Mum Cathy
Whats all this sniffling about? Splashing your tears everywhere! Its soggy enough outside and now youre bringing the damp in here too!
A grand, solid woman, as ample and inviting as a country manor, sank onto the bench beside Ciara.
Sweltering today! And wouldnt you know, rain this morning to start it off. Now its like a steam room! Only noon and Im soaked to the bones, could wring myself out!
She rummaged in her bag, emerging with a water bottle, and after a minor struggle, flipped off the cap.
Fancy a drink? she offered it to Ciara. They reckon a sip of water calms you down. Never works for me. Could swallow a bucket and Id still fret.
Ciara eyed her strange companion with a dreadful sense of fate. Why was misfortune so obsessed with her? Which star had she offended, for now, on top of everything, she got this this enormous stranger?
Shed long developed a distaste for the overweight they made her melancholy. How could someone treat themselves with so little care? A couple of exercises, eat less, think just a smidge about everyone else. The folds, the massive clothes, the sweat, the scent Eugh! Ciara recalled her spa trip with her friends, the pool and that woman bobbing there.
Im not getting in the pool, girls! Ive had enough for today, declared Lisa, Ciaras best mate, stretching her golden, gym-honed figure. No wonder she was in such nick; all that time spent in the gym, with a personal trainer and all.
Why? We planned to stay all day, didnt we?
With that? Lisa gestured behind her, voice oozing disgust. I cant even look at it, let alone swim near. Makes me ill!
The rest was a rant best forgotten. Ciara had squirmed at Lisas cruelty, but would never admit it aloud: in part, she agreed. You really mustnt let yourself go like that! If you cant be presentable, best to stay at home Lisa was right, after all.
And now here Ciara was, next to a woman at least triple the size of the pool lady. Worse, this one talked all the time! Yet she hadnt the energy to stand. Shed been on this bench for hours, sobbing at first, then staring blankly at the wall. Besides the railway station there was nowhere to go. Unwittingly, she tuned into her companions burbling.
Youre so pretty! Not a suitcase in sight, no bag. So, youre not off anywhere. Waiting for someone? Or no place to go?
Ciara looked away from the wall and hesitated, then took the stranger in.
A round, gentle face aglow with a matronly smile. But as soon as Ciara sniffled and, to her shock, burst into loud tears, the womans smile vanished and, in an instant, she enfolded Ciara in a great, comforting hug. Ciara pressed her tangled, trendy hair into the light blouse, soaking it swiftly yet catching no whiff of sweat. Instead: a gentle scent of meadow flowers, so strong and delicate it was almost impossible. Did she wash her blouses in this? Hand-rubbed with herbs? Was her powder so fragrant? She breathed in again, and suddenly pulled back in fright, wriggling from the strangers grasp. There it was! She remembered her mothers hands, that same scent. She barely recalled her mother, lost too early in a car crash when Ciara was only five. The one memory: a field of wildflowers, a daisy crown, and those hands, perfumed exactly so.
Why are you shying away, love? Did someone hurt you?
Ciara started to protest, then, defeated, nodded.
Rotten beggars! Picking on a child like you! Out came a parcel of sandwiches and a shiny red apple. Go on! Tuck in!
She unwrapped a sandwich. The smell set off something in Ciaras belly, cold and tight from not eating all day, her purse long since empty.
Chicken and proper ham, home-cooked. Here, have it! Youre so thin youre frightening!
I dont eat meat… Ciara choked down her hunger and turned away.
What was that? The woman insisted, shoving the sandwich into her hands and cracking the apple in two.
Nothing… Ciara fixated on those strong, unmanicured hands, suddenly unsure if her plan to wait for a train made any sense. She bit into the sandwich, almost moaning with pleasure.
Good, isnt it? The rest is nonsense, if you ask me!
Her new friend rearranged herself on the bench, then glanced at Ciara, whod devoured the first sandwich and eyed the second with hope.
Eat up! And talk to me. Whats happened for you to be here, no bags, not even, correct me if Im wrong, any money?
Ciara nodded, wiping away ever-returning tears.
Hold on, love, dont cry yet! Tell me, truly, whats happened. Then well cry together and who knows, perhaps have a laugh as well.
She didnt wish to, but it seemed there was no other way. It wasnt much of a story, but it was her only life.
Shed run away last night when Dad announced she wasnt his real daughter hed have a child of his own soon. She hadnt recovered from the blow. The man shed thought was her father all these years wasnt and hed never let on once.
Shed never got on with her stepmum, Emma. How could she, when Emma was only a few years older than herself? Emma had pursed her lips thinly at their first meeting, and Ciara knew then her easy days were done.
Barbed comments, snide tales to Dad, tears just like a third-rate soap. Ciara understood it well, but couldnt, perhaps wouldnt, do anything about it. Dad had always been her shelter. Too late, she realised everything had changed, and for good.
Their final chat ended it. Dad laid out paperwork, coldly informed her he wasnt her father, only raising her since she was three months old. Ciara never found out who her real dad was. Maybe he didnt know. Mum was gone that question would never be answered.
Ciara sat up all night staring at her bedroom wall, then threw on a jacket and left. With nowhere else to go, she wound up at the station. Her phone was dead, and anyway, she didnt want any awkward conversations. No real close friends theyd moved house so much shed never found any. The ones she had wouldnt help; their lives were caught up in the motto shed once seen in a cartoon: Love yourself, ignore the rest. Thats the way to be your best! Shed even commissioned a devil keyring with the phrase, then lost it.
The woman listened, silent and attentive, never interrupting. When Ciara finished, she produced a packet of tissues from her vast bag and handed them to her.
Wipe up, love.
She fished about and let a battered purse fall open.
Well, my girl. You ought to talk to your dad, but that can wait. Is your phone working?
Its dead.
Of course. Here!
She pressed a chunky, buttoned old mobile into Ciaras hand.
Not trendy enough for you? I rather like it. My daughter bought it easy on the hands, loud speaker. Give him a ring, or at least a text to say youre safe. No sense worrying him sick.
As Ciara typed, Cathy watched thoughtfully. Then she heaved herself up, straightening her blouse, now sodden from tears.
Im Aunt Cathy. I live out in the country, in a proper village. Fancy coming with me? If youve nowhere else, its not the worst idea.
Why?
Why not?
But Why would you? Im a stranger. Why help me?
Cathy grinned and took Ciaras chin gently in her hand, warm and soft.
Love, theres no such thing as someone elses child. A young thing shouldnt be left on her own.
But Im not a child…
Arent you just! Come now, up you get! Weve still to buy your ticket. Miss the next train and well wait ages.
And so Ciara found herself at Cathy Mayhews old stone cottage.
Cathy asked nothing more on the ride, waiting, shed say later, for Ciara to open up in her own time.
Prying never helps, love some are ready to share pain, and some, it takes time. When theyre ready, theyll tell you all.
Ciara, exhausted, slept the whole train journey, waking only when Cathy nudged her shoulder:
Wake up now, girl, were here!
On the platform, Cathy waved at someone. Ciara startled as a tall, gaunt woman nearly bowled her over.
Mum Cathy! Missed the second train for you! Thought youd never arrive. Hows Nina?
All well. Settled her and Jake. Ill check on them in a few days.
And the doctor?
Promised to do his best. Young but knows his stuff, so he says.
Whos this then? The woman eyed Ciara, eyebrows raised.
Less questions, please, Susan. Were hungry and just back.
Yes, yes. Get in then!
The old Ford Fiesta Cathy drove made Ciara snigger.
Whats so funny? Thats airbrushed, that is! My brother Pete did it.
Airbrushed, Ciara corrected distractedly, fingering the painted Cat on the side.
Whered you find this clever one, Mum Cathy? Susan held the door for Cathy.
At the station.
Just like me… Susan eyed Ciaras finger tracing the artwork. Can you draw then?
Yes. I finished art school.
Well, Pete will be impressed! Hes self-taught.
Its amazing, Ciara marvelled. Looks like a pros work.
Tell him yourself. Lets go, people are waiting.
Who?
Youll see.
Susan drove like it was the Grand Prix, making Ciara squeeze her eyes shut on sharp turns.
Go easy, Susan! Cathy laughed, glancing at Ciara. Im used to it, but the lass is new to your driving.
Shell adjust! Susan screeched to a halt by a cottage gate. Here we are!
A flock of children burst from the house towards them. Ciara gasped.
All mine, love! Cathy eased herself out. But dont fret. I live alone. They just wait here. Were all neighbours; my house is always full. Cmon, dont be shy!
Children jostled Cathy, who tousled heads and patted cheeks.
My sweets!
It took a whole week for Ciara to unravel who was who in the tangle of Cathys huge clan. Finally, Susan brought her youngest over so Cathy could babysit, and while she did a quick house tour, explained it all.
Look, said Susan, waving down the street. Three of ours here Sarah, Mike and Nancy, all with their families, all with kids. You saw em. Next street, two more Holly and Vera. Hollys got two, Vera married just last month. Were over on the other side of the village me, my brother Pete, and Nina, you know. Her son Jake had a heart fault at birth might have surgery soon, fingers crossed.
Susan, Im lost.
Youll untangle it in time theres a lot of us.
Aunt Cathys a legend, all those kids of her own!
Susan burst out laughing.
She didnt birth us, love. Were all foundlings, just like you.
Ciara paused, startled.
How so?
Long story. Come on.
Susans house was small, but welcoming. In the kitchen, she shooed a ginger cat off the sofa and nodded for Ciara to sit.
Make yourself at home. Ill tuck in my Van and be back.
Ciara studied the spotless kitchen. Susan was a proper homemaker; all neat shelves, white curtains embroidered with wildflowers. Ciara gathered a corner in her hand each forget-me-not was stitched by hand.
Admiring them, are you? My daughter Vickys favourite.
Whose?
My girls. I embroidered one set for each child I was expecting Vickys with forget-me-nots, Vans with poppies, Lizzys with daisies.
Beautiful, Ciara traced the delicate stitches.
Mum taught me. Id not a clue when she took me in.
How do you mean, took you in?
Just like you. My birth parents were hopeless drunks. I can only speak easily of it now. I barely recall my childhood Mum said sometimes pain makes you forget, to survive.
Dissociative amnesia.
Whats that? Susan paused, nearly dropping the kettle.
Memory loss.
How do you know the term?
I wanted to study psychology. Read quite a bit about it. Interested me.
What stopped you?
Nothing used to, but I was ill for the last two years of school had to study privately. Dad footed the bill, but he wont anymore. And where else would I get money?
What was wrong?
Back problems. Surgery, but Im mostly fine now.
Go on, your story!
Right. Mum used to beat me so badly Id lie in bed a week.
Why didnt they take you away?
No one cared. Neighbours complained, but nothing happened. I ran away at thirteen. Couldnt stay a day longer.
Ciara gasped.
Where did you go?
Nowhere. No friends worth the name the ones I had were in the same boat. Ended up at the station with just enough coins for a couple of pies. Thats where Mum Cathy found me, waiting for a train, gave me food and took me home.
Just like me… Ciara smiled.
Its her gift, finding waifs like us. She tried hard to get custody, didnt work, so she adopted me. Then Pete, and later others. She spent years fighting for us, getting us papers, money, and houses. Everyone round here knows her people wanting to sell houses came to her first.
Where does she get all the money?
Smart question. Youre sharp. Some government help, but most of it came from Paul.
Who?
Paul found just after Sarah. Mum met him in the city, lost and in trouble. Hed run off from home, sick and dirty. People avoided him, and he was desperate. Nobody could find him, but he turned up, grabbed Mums hand and wouldnt let go. Next day his father, Mr Simon, turned up. Posh black cars, men in suits felt like a gangster film. But Simon was lovely. Never put Paul in a home, adored him, though he had other, healthy children. Hes loaded, builds houses, runs lorries, you name it. Great big estate, weve been up there. Paul lives on his own, with nurses and security. When they came to the city, he slipped away and vanished. Mum is the only one who calms him even Simon cant. Simon offered her everything jobs, money, houses just to stay as Pauls carer, but she always refused, couldnt leave the rest of us. He helps us instead his lawyers sort out paperwork, he sends money. Mum jokes she finally found her king, not just a prince. Its all a bit of a soap opera. Would you believe all this if you just heard it somewhere?
No! Its all so…
Surreal, yes. But we live it. We all owe Cathy. Without her, I doubt any of us would be here. The holes she fished us out of not even angels would manage… Oh, thats the clock Petes in for lunch, and sos my Russ.
Ill be off
Where to? Susan fished cold meats from the fridge. Plates are in the cupboard. Youll eat first. Cathys next door at Sarahs theyre sewing something. No sense loitering alone.
It all felt dreamlike to Ciara a real family meal, children, laughing, tired men popping in, pecking Susans cheeks and getting swatted for it. Shed never had family like this; even at weekends she and her father ate separately. If Emma was around, Ciara stayed out, or hid in her room to avoid tension. Now she felt such a fierce longing for this a home, children, beloved people near. She hadnt noticed she was crying into her soup.
Hey! I seasoned that! Susan hugged her and fetched a clean towel. Dry your eyes. Youre home now. Nobodys going to hurt you again.
That evening, for the first time, Ciara told someone everything. About Mum, Dad, Emma not like with Cathy, brief and censored, but all of it. Each word shed pain and made her lighter. Susan listened, patient, asking only now and then.
Well, she said, when Ciara finished. Heres what I think.
What?
Dont resent your dad. He raised you as his, for years. This news might have shaken him not everyone handles happiness sensibly. He thought hed never have a kid, right?
Ciara nodded.
There you are. Hes just bewildered with excitement. And, let me guess, hes already checked paternity for the new one?
How do you know?
Men like that business types go straight for the facts. Like rocks, only do what they think best. Sorry, love, but thats the way.
Susan, why do you say not everyone copes with happiness?
Susan sighed, stacking dishes.
Sometimes joys so huge, people go wild and do the stupidest things. Like our Nina. When Simon sorted her house, she went berserk with parties, until Cathy sorted her out. Then she found out about Jake. She stopped drinking only because we locked her in and watched her for a month. Her husband followed, sobered up, sorted himself out. Even now he wont touch a drop at parties.
And Nina?
She fought, screamed she didnt want the baby. All sorts happened. But she kept him. After he was born, wouldnt let anyone near; she was wild, part animal. Grew up in a shed with dogs til she was four, till someone tipped Cathy off, and she saved them both the girl and her dog, Laddie.
The kitchen door flew open and a girl called out:
Susan, someones come for Ciara! Gran said to send her home!
The childs eyes widened at Ciara, then pleaded with Susan:
Did I wake him? I forgot, sorry…
No, darling. Hes in with his dad. Thanks, love.
The child skipped off. Susan nodded at the door.
Ninas eldest. Lovely girl. Off you go, Ciara. Or shall I walk you?
No need. Thank you, Ciara hugged Susan impulsively. For everything.
You remember youre never alone. Youve got a home here. If things go wrong, you know where to find us.
Its so strange, Susan… So many people, not family, yet living as one…
Family isnt just blood, love. Its something else, too in the heart. Remember that.
Her father, come to collect her, fumbled for words. Unbeknownst to Ciara, Cathy had found him in town and spoken with him at length now here he was, pleading with her to come home.
No, Dad. Im sorry, but I wont. I dont want to be in the way. This is better.
Let me find you a flat.
Ciara glanced at Cathy and nodded.
Id be grateful for help starting out. Ill get a job, transfer to part-time studies need to earn my own way.
You dont need to. Ill handle it.
No, Dad. Its my turn to take charge of my life. You always taught me to rely on myself. Now Im putting your lessons to use.
He pays her tuition. Ciara finishes university, becomes one of the citys leading child psychologists. Parents need to book weeks in advance to see her. Emma has a son; Ciara is genuinely glad for them, but visits rarely. Not because she bears a grudge just that her new family, found through Cathy, has become her home. And when Cathy, now forever Mum to Ciara as to all the others, falls ill, Ciara drops everything and goes back to care for her. The half-year after Cathys stroke is the hardest and, in a strange way, happiest of Ciaras life. Surrounded by those who need and accept her, she finally understands what Susan meant.
The whole family pitches in, and Cathy gets back on her feet. She cant walk far or speak quite clearly, but Pete and Russ build her a marvellous bench by the garden gate. Cathy spends hours there, children bowing in mock-reverence and joking:
How do you like your throne, maam? Superb, isnt it? Your majesty, fancy a nice cuppa?
Children dash about her, running up to ask:
Granny, did you see? I swung highest! And Freddie scored his first goal ever! Straight into the team now! Wed beat the lot!
Ciara only returns to town once sure that Cathys as well as can be. And, six months later, Cathy is her very first invite to her own wedding.
Mum Cathy, will you be there for me?
Always, my darling girl, always…
