Betty noticed how he said it, as if Lilian was the only one. “Honestly, Thomas. We can sort this out. No one needs to know. They’ll believe us, not her. We’ll go in and explain...”
Thomas fixed her with an icy stare. “I’ll do it,” he said. “But I want you to understand, Betty, that this was the last straw. It can’t go on.”
“What can’t?”
“This. Zelda is uncontrollable. We can’t trust her. You’re going to have to choose.”
“Choose what?”
“It’s me, or your mother.”
Betty blinked up at him. “Don’t say that.”
“I’ve always been here for you. I’ve never let you down,” Thomas said. He cupped her cheek. “I said I’d always take care of you and raise Martha as my own.”
“Please. We don’t need to do this, Thomas—”
“Either Zelda goes. Or, I go.”
“No!”
Thomas paused for a while before he walked backwards, towards the dining room. He held Betty’s gaze as he opened, stepped through and then pulled the door closed behind him.
Betty was left on her own, trembling in the hallway. Her head thumped so badly she thought it might split open. She headed, blindly, for the front door and reached out for the door handle. Inside the dining room, she could hear Thomas talking. His voice was light and cheerful, as if nothing had happened. Betty turned the key and held it, ready to open the door, to go outside and follow her mother.
But something inside stopped her and her breath came out in a gush.
She’d learned to deal with Thomas over the years, but her mother was a loose cannon. Why hadn’t she told her that George, or Gina, or whatever her name was, was a woman? Had she invited her tonight, on purpose?
She was so tired of being in the middle, trying to calm a storm.
She also knew that when Thomas said something, he never backed down.
Struggling for breath, Betty clasped her chest. She locked the door again and stumbled upstairs. She paused outside her daughter’s room for a while before stepping inside. Martha lay asleep in bed, surrounded by pieces of paper. It looked like she was lying on a bed of water lilies.
With shaking hands, Betty slowly gathered the pages together. She saw they were stories and she placed them neatly on the bedside table. When she kissed Martha, her forehead felt cooler and her breathing was slow and peaceful.
Betty rested the back of her hand against her daughter’s cheek. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “No one will ever know.”
All she wanted was a quiet, secure life, for her family. All she wanted was for the turmoil to stop.
And at that moment, Betty made her choice.
32
Grandmother
Martha hailed a taxi, to take her and Zelda back to the house. She didn’t want to talk in front of the driver, so they didn’t speak for the entire journey, each looking out of opposite windows.
In Martha’s head, Lilian’s words tumbled around. They gathered momentum like a snowball rolling down a hill, growing bigger and bigger.
Could it be true, what she’d said?
When they reached the house, they entered in silence. Martha tugged off her coat and dumped it on top of the dining table. She felt as if her bone marrow had been replaced with ice, and she crossed and rubbed her arms.
Zelda walked over to the window. As she gazed out over the bay, she looked small and frail.
Martha joined her, standing close behind. Their breath fogged up the glass. “Lilian told me that Thomas wasn’t my father,” she said quietly.
Zelda gave a small shrug. “Oh. What a silly thing to say.”
Martha stared at her. Her nana’s cheeks were pale and drawn, but she didn’t want to listen to any more half truths, or avoidance tactics. Stepping across, she blocked Zelda’s view. “Tell me if Thomas Storm was my real father or not. I need to know.”
Zelda exhaled and sat down heavily in the wooden chair. As she wrung her hands together in her lap, the lines around her eyes looked like cracked pottery. She wouldn’t meet Martha’s glare. “You were right,” she said eventually. “About their marriage certificate. Betty was pregnant when she walked down the aisle.”
“I know. I saw it in black and white. That’s not what I asked.”
“They were different times then, Martha. Unmarried mothers were frowned upon in society. Thomas was mature and handsome. He promised Betty that he’d take care of her. I thought she should take more time, not rush into a wedding. Let people gossip if they wanted to. But she wanted you to be born in wedlock.”
“But was he my real dad?”
Zelda lowered her eyes. “I don’t want to lie to you...”
“Then don’t.”
Zelda nodded slightly. “Betty was pregnant by someone else.”
Martha ran her fingers through her hair, trying to comprehend this. “Did Dad know?”
“Yes. They met while she was pregnant. He said that he’d raise you as his own child. And things moved quickly. They set a wedding date, even though your other grandparents objected. They thought Betty got pregnant on purpose, to trap him. But your parents went ahead with the wedding and things were okay, for a while.”
When Martha thought back, she could recall pockets of her father’s kindness. Her first memory was of him scooping her in his arms and singing to her, on the beach. “Lilian?” she whispered.
“He loved you, but Lilian was his own flesh and blood. They had an easier relationship.”
“I always felt I had to fit to his ways,” Martha said. “I saw Mum changing to suit him, too.”
“She wanted you all to be looked after.”
Martha thought of her father’s rules, and his ways, and how all the women in the family clambered to please him. All except Zelda. “And my real father,” she said quietly. “Do you know who he was?”
Zelda nodded. She waited for a while until she spoke. “There was a young man your mum loved dearly. His name was Daniel McLean.”
Martha closed her eyes and saw the names on the mermaid’s plaque. “He died in the fishing accident.”
Again, her nana bobbed her head. “Your mum was devastated. She’d only just found out she had a baby on the way when she lost him. Her grief for Daniel, and her worries for the baby, brought her to Thomas. He was solid and strong. He offered her the security she needed.”
“But what about love?” Martha asked desperately.
“It’s not always enough. Life’s not a fairy story.”
Martha opened her mouth to argue, even though she understood. Her love for Joe hadn’t been enough for her to leave her parents.
“Your mother loved Thomas, in her own way, but not how she loved Daniel,” Zelda added.
“But you never told me that Thomas wasn’t my dad.”
“That wasn’t my place.”
Martha furrowed her brow. She rubbed the lines with her fingers. “What really happened to make you leave?”
Zelda pressed a finger to her lips, taking a while to gather her thoughts. “Your mum and dad held an anniversary party.”
“I remember I was too poorly to go. Dad’s awful boss was coming, and my other grandparents. I stayed in bed...”
“Me and your dad had a huge row, and everything spiraled out of control. I drank too much and opened my big mouth. I told him he wasn’t your real father, in front of his family. It just slipped out. He threw me out and told me I was dead to the family.” She let her words hang in the air for a while. “He’d had enough.
“I thought it was an exaggeration at first, something he said in the heat of the moment. But then Betty called to see me. Thomas had given her an ultimatum, him or me. And she had to make a choice. So, she told me that...that...” Her voice cracked.
“That you were dead?”
“To Thomas, I was. He said it, that night. Then he reinforced it. He told me to go and not come back. It was a terrible thing I did, Martha...”
Martha held her hands to her face, clamping them over her eyes. She took a few deep breaths. “But you could have stood up to him, Zelda, ignored what he said. You could have fought back or let me know you were still alive. I believed him. I believed Mum.”
“Things went too far...”
“You could have done something.”
Zelda shook her head. “No.”