The Faithless - Martina Cole [91]
So why had she felt this sudden longing to see her daughter? She truly wanted to see her, see what she looked like, how she had turned out. Gabriella would be sixteen now, on the cusp of womanhood. Did she look like her or did she now resemble James? Cynthia had a feeling it would be her; she always had, even from a baby.
Cynthia had no interest in James Junior; he was already too far gone from her to be of any interest. But Gabriella had possessed the same spark that she herself did. What she was feeling was in no way maternal, it was simply curiosity.
She knew Gabriella was with her mother and father, and she shuddered at the thought of how she would be living. They lived like tinkers – all TV sets and boiled food. Cynthia had hated it as a child, aspired to a better way of life than the working men’s clubs they frequented. She felt almost sick with shame about her upbringing.
Yet Celeste had loved all that, so had James when she had taken him to the club for the first time. He said it was a great place for meeting up with friends – like he had ever had any friends! To her it had always felt like slumming, but then she was above all that kind of shit. A good restaurant, decent wine and intelligent conversation were beyond these people’s comprehension – they had thought she was a snob, and she knew she was. She was proud to be one. Who in their right mind would want to live like them? Hand to mouth, eating food that had more preservatives in it than Joan Collins? Their main topic of conversation was what was going on in EastEnders.
If she had one regret, it was leaving her daughter to live like that. But then what would she have done with her? She had her own life, and a good life it was. Nevertheless she was curious to see her again. It never occurred to her though that her daughter might not want to see her, that what she had done to her family might not be forgiven, let alone forgotten. As far as Cynthia was concerned, she had summoned her daughter to her side and what else could her daughter do, but answer that call? To Cynthia Callahan, that was simple logic.
Chapter Seventy-Eight
‘You’re joking, Celly?’
Celeste shook her head, and said seriously, ‘No, I’m not, Mum. She’s frightened to tell you and Dad, and who can blame her?’
Mary felt sick at what she had heard, and if Jack found out there would be murder done. That Cynthia thought she could waltz back into her daughter’s life after all this time was outrageous. ‘She’s not thinking of going, is she?’
Celeste, one eye on the Trisha show and one eye on her mother, said honestly, ‘I think she’s just curious, Mum, you know. But I don’t think she wants to go for any other reason than that.’
Mary nodded, but her heart was beating too fast for her own good. She sat on the sofa and bit her lips in consternation. Her first thought was that Cynthia might have changed, but she dismissed that idea as soon as it arrived. This was something far more sinister, she knew that in her waters. If Cynthia wanted to see that child there had to be an agenda. So, what could it be? And why hadn’t Gabby discussed it with her?
‘When did this happen, Celeste?’
Celeste shrugged her huge shoulders. ‘A few days ago.’
That explained the child’s demeanour recently anyway. ‘What do you think, love?’
Celeste closed her eyes for a few seconds before saying, ‘I think she should run as far away from her mother as possible and, before you ask, I told her that.’
Mary nodded in agreement.
‘Cynthia is trouble; she’s a liar, and she’s dangerous. But, at the end of the day, she is Gabby’s mother.’
‘More’s the fucking pity. Well, I’ll have to wait and see if she asks me about it, won’t I?’
But Celeste wasn’t listening any more; the woman on Trisha was confronting her demons, which were drink and drugs, and Trisha as always was sympathetic but firm. Celeste liked Trisha, she had a nice way about her.
Mary watched