Where You Belong. Barbara Taylor Bradford
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was telling me something else, and I blinked and tried to concentrate on his words. He was saying, ‘I’ve spoken to Clee Donovan, and he’s definitely going to be there, and I’ve left messages for the Turnley brothers. I know they’ll come too, if they’re able.’
I gazed at him blankly. I was feeling overwhelmed and the prospect of going to London frightened me, filled me with tension and anxiety.
‘What’s wrong?’ Jake asked.
I swallowed. ‘I’m…dreading it. There’ll be such a lot of people there,’ I muttered almost to myself.
Jake made no response for a split second, and then he said, ‘I know what you mean, but let’s be glad and proud that so many people want to celebrate Tony’s life. Because that’s what a memorial is, Val, a celebration that the person was ever alive. We are showing our gratitude that Tony was born and was among us for as long as he was.’
‘Yes.’
He got up and came and sat next to me on the sofa, took hold of my hand in the most loving way. ‘I know it’s tough…but he’s dead, Val, and you’ve got to accept that because –’
‘I do,’ I cut in, my voice rising slightly.
‘You’ve got to get yourself busy, start working. You can’t just…drift like this.’
I stared at him. There he was, being bossy again in that particular very macho way of his, and before I could stop myself I exclaimed, ‘You’ve not done very much yourself since we came back from Belgrade.’ And I could have bitten my tongue off as soon as these dreadful words left my mouth; I felt the flush of embarrassment rising from my neck to flood my face.
‘I wish I had been able to work, but my leg’s been pretty bad, and it’s taken longer to heal than I expected.’
I was furious with myself. ‘I’m sorry, Jake, I shouldn’t have said that. I know your injuries were more severe than mine. I’m so stupid, thoughtless.’
‘No, you’re not, and listen: let’s make a pact right now. To help each other go forward from where we are tonight, to get ourselves moving. Let’s get started again, Val, let’s pick up our cameras and get on with the job.’
‘I don’t think I could go back to Kosovo.’
‘God, I wasn’t meaning that! I don’t want to go there either, but there are other things we can cover as well as wars.’
‘But we’re best known for doing that,’ I reminded him.
‘We can pick and choose our assignments, Val darling.’
‘I suppose so,’ I muttered, glancing at him.
Jake’s eyes changed, turned darker blue, became reflective, and after a moment he adroitly changed the subject, remarked, ‘I’ve booked us on a plane to London on Monday night, okay?’
The whole idea of the memorial was a nightmare to me, and not trusting myself to say anything, I simply nodded. Reaching for my glass, I took a sip of wine, then put the glass down and exclaimed with forced cheerfulness, ‘Tell me about your trip to the south of France.’
‘It was really great, Val, I wish you’d been with me –’ Jake stopped and glanced at the phone as it started to ring.
I extracted my hand from his, got up and went to the small desk on which it stood. ‘Hullo?’
VI
To my utter amazement it was my brother Donald calling from New York, and I sat down heavily on the small chair next to the little desk. I was flummoxed on hearing his voice, although after we’d exchanged greetings I quickly pulled myself together and listened alertly to what he had to say. Donald had always been tricky, extremely devious, and dissimulation was second nature to him.
Once he had finished his long speech, I said, ‘I just can’t get away right now. I have to go to London next week, to a memorial service for a fallen colleague, and I’ve also got loads of assignments stacking up.’
I listened again as patiently as possible, and once more I said, ‘I’m sorry, I cannot make the trip at this time. And listen, I really can’t stay on the phone, I have guests and I’ve got to go. Thanks for calling.’ In his typical selfish fashion, determined to get all of his points across, Donald went on blabbering at me, and short of banging the receiver down rudely, I had no option but to hear him out. When he finally paused for breath, I saw my opportunity and jumped in, repeated that I could not leave Europe under any circumstances for the time being. After saying a quick goodbye, I hung up.
Returning to the sofa, I sat down and said, ‘What a nerve! I can’t believe he called me!’
‘Who? And what did he call you about to get you so het up?’
I turned towards Jake and explained, ‘It was my brother Donald calling from New York. To tell me my mother’s not well, I should say his mother, because she’s never been a mother to me. He wanted me to fly to New York. What cheek!’
‘What’s wrong with her? Is she very sick?’
I saw the frown, the baffled almost confused look in his eyes, and I instantly realized that he’d never truly understood the relationship I’d had with my mother. But then how could he understand, when I couldn’t either. From what Jake had told me about himself during the years we’d known each other, he came from a marvellously warm, loving, close-knit Jewish family, and he had been raised with a lot of love, understanding and tremendous support from his parents, grandparents and sisters. Whereas I’d been an orphan within the bosom of the Denning family. If it hadn’t been for my father’s parents, Grandfather in particular, I would have withered away and died a young death from emotional deprivation. I asked myself then why I even thought in terms of having a relationship with Mother, because there had never been a relationship between us.
Iceberg Aggie, my grandfather had called her, and he had often wondered out loud to me what his son, my father, had ever seen in her. She had been very beautiful, of course. Still was, in all probability, although I hadn’t seen her for years, not since my Beirut days.
Cutting into my thoughts, Jake asked me again, ‘Is your mother very ill, Val?’
‘Donald didn’t really explain. All he said was that she wasn’t well and that she had told him she wanted to see me. He was relaying the message for her. But it can’t be anything serious, or he would have told me. Donald’s her pet, Jake, and very much under her thumb. Still, he never fools around with the truth when it comes to her well being, or anything to do with her. He’d definitely have told me if there were real problems, I’ve no doubts about that.’
‘Maybe she wants to make amends,’ Jake suggested, and raised a brow as he added, ‘A rapprochement perhaps?’
I shook my head vehemently. ‘No way. She hasn’t given a damn about me for thirty-one years. And I’m not going to New York.’
‘You could phone her.’
‘There’s nothing to say, Jake. I told you about her years ago.’ I bit my lip and shook my head slowly. ‘I can’t feel anything for a woman who has never felt anything for me.’
Jake did not respond and a long silence fell between us. But at last he broke it, when he said quietly, and with some compassion, ‘Jesus, Val, I’ve never been able to understand that, come to grips with her attitude towards you. It seems so unnatural for a mother not to love her child. I mean, what could she possibly have had against a new-born baby?’
‘Beats me,’ I answered, and lifted my shoulders in a light shrug. ‘My Denning grandparents could never fathom it out either, and as far as my mother’s mother was concerned, I really didn’t know her very well. My grandmother Violet Scott was an enigma to me, and she avoided me.’ I laughed