Tangled Lives Read Online Free Page B

society tittle-tattle about people mercifully far removed from Annie’s life now. Get on with it, Annie admonished herself, and took a deep breath.
    ‘Mother … I’ve got something I want to tell you.’ Sheheard her own voice sounding alarmingly portentous.
    Eleanor, stopped in her tracks, raised her eyebrows and waited, fingering the string of pearls around her neck.
    ‘Sounds ominous,’ she said.
    ‘It is. Well, “ominous” isn’t the right word. It’s more … well … I wasn’t going to tell you, but …’
    ‘Stop mumbling, darling. I can’t understand a word you’re saying.’
    Annie drew herself up, leaning forward on the sofa, steeling herself for her mother’s reaction. Does it really matter what she thinks, she asked herself.
    ‘I’ve heard from Kent Social Services. My son wants to meet me.’
    ‘Your son?’ Eleanor looked as puzzled as Richard had, then horrified. ‘You mean the adopted one?’
    ‘Well, I’m not talking about Ed, Mother.’
    ‘That’s outrageous! What does he want? It must be money. He’s heard you’re successful with those cakes of yours and he wants a handout.’
    ‘Mother!’
    ‘Well, darling, really. Think about it. He must be what, thirty-something by now? Why has he suddenly come out of the woodwork? I hope you’re not going to indulge him.’
    ‘What sort of a woman wouldn’t want to meet the baby they gave away?’
    ‘A very sensible one, in my opinion. You’re soft, Annie, you always have been, just like your father. That’s how yougot yourself into this mess in the first place. Take it from me, no man of that age needs a mother. He’ll just use you.’
    ‘Thanks.’ She got up; she’d had enough. ‘Anyway, I thought I should let you know.’
    Eleanor tutted. ‘No need to take umbrage, darling. I’m just warning you. I’m sure dear Richard has said the same thing.’
    Here we go, she thought crossly, the Dear Richard moment. He didn’t remotely fit the bill for Eleanor’s Ideal Husband. He wasn’t aristocratic, didn’t have inherited wealth, land or a title, hadn’t gone to Eton or Oxford, didn’t buy his clothes in Jermyn Street or have his hair cut at Trumpers. Yet to Eleanor he could do no wrong. Richard played up to her mother, tongue in cheek, but in fact the two got on surprisingly well.
    ‘He hasn’t, actually.’ Annie reached down to give her a chilly peck on the cheek.
    ‘Well, he should have. This chap … you know nothing about him. Just because he’s your son, you think he’s bona fide, but he could, for instance, be violent. You have no idea who adopted him. They weren’t necessarily nice people you know, darling. Not like us. They could have been drinkers, or criminals. Feckless, at any rate. One can’t rely on his having our values.’
    Our values! she spluttered silently. Our values? Would they be the ones that ran her daughter out of town, a teenager and pregnant? He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t have our values, she thought.
    ‘We don’t even know the exact provenance of his genes,’ Eleanor added, her look sly.
    ‘I’d better get back to work,’ Annie said, ignoring the pointed remark.
    ‘Be angry with me if you like. But promise me, if you do see the boy, make sure Richard is there too. Please, darling. I’m serious.’ The old lady looked anxiously at her.
    ‘Yes, Mother,’ she replied, her heart softening at her mother’s obvious, though surely misplaced, concern.
    Even the raw wind was a relief to Annie as she made her way across Sloane Square to the Tube. It was Richard who had insisted she tell her mother before she told the children – Daniel was, after all, her grandson. She was glad it was over; the conversation with her mother reminded Annie of so much she’d tried hard to forget.
    Lucy was sitting at the kitchen table cradling a mug of tea when Annie got home.
    ‘Not at work?’
    Lucy shook her head. ‘I took the morning off. It’s the interview on Friday and I need to