The Family Next Door(68)

Ange hadn’t returned her calls. If Essie hadn’t been in the hospital, she might have tried her. She couldn’t speak to any of her former work colleagues, for obvious reasons. But there was one person she hoped she could count on. If only she’d pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

Fran cleared her throat. “Mum? It’s me.”

“Francesca?” There was a pause. Fran pictured her, making eyes with her father, showing her surprise. “What is it? Is everything all right?”

In her defense, it wasn’t a ridiculous question. Fran and her mother didn’t call each other to chat. They didn’t bother with casual niceties or “catching up.” They spoke on the phone to make arrangements or report facts. “Just a reminder that it’s Rosie’s birthday on Monday.” “Did Dad get the results of his blood work?” “I passed my final exams.” Fran had always told herself it was because they were all busy people; too busy to make idle chitchat. But the fact was, these last few months, Fran had plenty of time to talk. She just didn’t have a lot of people to talk to.

“Actually everything isn’t all right.”

Her mother sucked in a breath. Good girl, Fran, she thought. Spit it out. This was, after all, the reason for her call. She was sick of keeping things hidden. It might have preserved her dignity and her fa?ade, but it stopped people from being able to support her. And now she needed support.

“Oh no. Is it one of the kids?”

Yes, Fran thought. It’s Ava. She might not be Nigel’s.

“Do you have a moment to chat, Mum?”

“Of course. I mean … I’m going out in a few minutes. I have a do at your father’s golf club. But if there’s something wrong—”

“I cheated on Nigel. And Ava might not be his.”

Fran held her breath. She had never said anything like this to her mother before. They’d never talked about anything shameful or negative. Never shared a laugh about the indignity of slipping down the stairs at work, or failing a math test, or missing out on a job that she really wanted. They saved their conversations for things that had gone well. The tests she had passed. The jobs she had gotten.

“Is this … true?” she said finally.

“Yes. I’m sorry to dump it on you. I know it must be a shock.”

“It … certainly is.”

Her mum had been caught off guard, clearly. High achievers didn’t have problems like this. Or if they did, they didn’t talk about them. Fran imagined her mother sinking into the blue-and-white gingham chair in the hallway off the kitchen, slipping her feet out of her kitten heels, and taking out her pearl earring on the phone side.

But when she finally spoke again, she sounded like she’d recovered slightly. “Okay. You’ll need a paternity test. I don’t think they’re hard to organize. If Ava is Nigel’s, he’ll be far more inclined to forgive you. You’ll be able to move on and pretend this never happened.”

Something about her tone got Fran’s back up. “And if she’s not Nigel’s? What then?”

“Well, I don’t know, Francesca,” she snapped. “Let’s just hope that she is. You’re a silly, silly girl, you know that? Why would you go and have an affair?”

But she wasn’t asking, not really. It was a shame because Fran wanted to tell her. He was depressed, Mum. It was horrible. Did Dad ever get depressed? How did you handle it? If you had shared your difficulties with me, instead of just your successes, I might have been in a better position to navigate them myself.

“I’m not going to tell your father about this,” her mum said. “And you should keep it to yourself too. You don’t want people knowing your business or gossiping about you.”

“Mummy?” Rosie said. “Ava’s hot.”

Who isn’t? Fran thought. She’d left the air-conditioning off and instead had the fan going, as a nod to Nigel, even in his absence. But enough was enough. She grabbed the remote and switched on the unit.

“I don’t care who knows my business,” Fran said. “Nigel knows, it’s not like it’s a secret.”

“You need to protect yourself, Fran. Not to mention Nigel and the children. People talk.”

“Support,” she said. “That’s what I need, Mum. That’s why I called. Clearly it was a waste of a phone call.”

“How dare you? How dare you call me up and start acting like a teenager after you’ve gotten yourself into this mess? I expected better from you, Francesca. You’re a smart, capable young woman.”

“Smart, capable women make mistakes.”

“Not these kinds of mistakes.”

But the biggest mistake she’d made was expecting her mum to be any different. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“She’s still hot, Mummy.”

Fran glanced over at Ava, lying on a blanket. She didn’t look right. Fran walked closer.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” her mum was saying “You’re not a little girl anymore. I can’t swoop in and fix this…”

Rosie was kneeling beside Ava, blowing on her face. Trying to cool her down. Fran dropped to her knees. Ava’s eyes were not closed and not open, just cracked open slightly. Fran picked her up. She was hot. Too hot.