Tangled Lives by Hilary Boyd Page A

immediately thinking of Ed, who was still being distant with her. She’d rung him a few times during the week, but he’d only taken one of her calls, and then been carefully polite and too busy to talk. And Richard. Since their conversation about Charles, he’d seemed pensive, not really responding when she’d wanted to talk about Daniel. But Daniel didn’t need to know all this.
    ‘Were they surprised?’
    She nodded. ‘Very. They asked a lot of questions.’ She gave Daniel a brief smile. ‘It’s a relief to get it out in the open at last.’
    ‘They weren’t upset?’
    ‘They … I think they were intrigued more than anything. You know, Mother’s secret past …’ She knew her responses sounded stilted, almost cagey. But there was so much she had to edit out of the scene in the kitchen last Sunday. ‘They’re looking forward to meeting you,’ she said.
    Daniel’s face broke into a shy grin. ‘Great! I’d love to meet them too.’
    ‘I thought we might aim for the weekend after next, if that suits you? I’ll check with the others … Ed works shifts, but he can usually change one if he has enough notice.’ She refused to think about what her son’s reaction would be when she asked him to do just that.
    Daniel nodded. ‘That’s good for me.’
    The sudden silence between them was filled by Annie offering him another sandwich, pressing on him the foil wrap of sausages, ‘before they get too cold’.
    ‘Tell me about them. Your family.’
    Almost reluctantly, as though her family was something to be apologised for, Annie began to talk about her children, her husband, her work. And as she talked, she realised she was editing out the happiness. Stupid, but it didn’t feel right to dwell on the fact that she’d had a good life, a successful life without him.
    ‘And you?’ she asked, when she thought she’d said enough.
    ‘Oh, you know … normal, I suppose. Mum didn’t work, outside the home, I mean,’ he added, smiling. ‘She was a brilliant woman. She made things – clothes, jewellery, painted a bit, was mad for redecorating the house – much to my father’s dismay. Always had a project.’ He paused, his expression distant, obviously remembering. ‘And she read a great deal: novels, poetry. I suppose she was a bit of a hippie, and huge fun to be with. People loved her … I loved her. I owe her everything.’
    ‘You must miss her a lot.’ Annie stifled an unjustified spike of resentment at the word ‘everything’.
    ‘Every day of my life.’ His eyes lit up with tears, but he wiped them quickly away and reached for another sandwich. ‘Sorry.’
    ‘Don’t be.’
    Neither spoke for a moment.
    ‘Did you know you were adopted from the beginning?’
    ‘Oh, yes.’ Daniel nodded. ‘I can’t remember not knowing. Mum used to go on about how she fell in love with me at first sight and knew we’d been destined to be together because my eyes were as blue as hers … which can’t have been true at a couple of weeks old!’ He paused. ‘But Dad … he’s never really mentioned it.’
    ‘I’m glad you were loved … happy,’ she said.
    Daniel looked off into the distance. ‘Happy? I suppose we were.’
    She wondered what he meant.
    ‘I think you’re incredibly brave to have found me.’
    ‘I’ve been thinking about it for a long time.’ He paused. ‘Not that I’m trying to replace Mum with you – please don’t think that.’
    ‘No, of course not,’ Annie answered hastily, relieved in a way. She was so familiar with mothering her other children, but she felt at a loss with her elder son. She refilled his cup with tea, handing him the plate of cupcakes.
    ‘I hope … I hope you won’t just disappear, now you’ve met me.’
    A large brown Standard Poodle suddenly leapt up to the bench and began sniffing at the picnic. Annie stroked it and pushed it away from the food. Its owner shouted from the distance and the dog bounced elegantly away. The other people wandering the