The Happy Family by Jackie Kabler (electric book reader txt) 📕

This was Ruth, who had leapt from her chair when I described how I’d found my mother on my doorstep, and was clutching the chunky faux pearls at her throat as she gaped at me, wide-eyed. Deborah, meanwhile, was sitting stock-still, open-mouthed with surprise.

‘Wow,’ she said. ‘Your … your mother?’

‘Yep. My long-lost mother,’ I replied. I was rather enjoying all these reactions. I’d told them a bit more then, about how she’d found me, and about my sister (my sister! I’m still trying to take that in myself, and I can’t wait to speak to her, to see her, when we FaceTime later this week). They’d both quickly recovered from their shock, hugging me and saying how excited they both were for me, how thrilled they’d be to meet Mum, before Ruth had to rush off to unlock the front door for early surgery. Meanwhile, Deborah had, to my amusement, got up and almost walked straight into the wall before wandering off back to her room still shaking her head and muttering under her breath, ‘How extraordinary …’

Now Ruth waves a battered thermos flask at me.

‘This is Nadia’s. She’s over in her doorway again and I said I’d fill it up for her. I’ve got a packet of Hobnobs in my drawer. I’ll give her a few of those too. Do you want one?’

I shake my head.

‘No thanks. I’m not the biggest fan of Hobnobs. But listen, let me take those out to her. I haven’t met her yet and Gabby’s just moved our meeting to four, so I’ve got a bit of spare time.’

She shrugs.

‘Yeah, if you like. She’s a sweetie, but she might be a bit cagey with you at first. She’s a tad wary, you know?’

‘OK. I’ll be nice. I just feel so sorry for her, even more so now that I’ve got both my parents again, for some reason. She must have nobody if she’s living a life like that. It’s tragic.’

‘It is. But talking of parents, how are you feeling, really, about your mum suddenly coming back? I know it’s fantastic and all that but … well, it must be so weird too. Are you OK?’

She picks up the kettle, shakes it, and walks to the sink to top it up. I think for a moment and then say, ‘I think so. It’s really weird, yes, and honestly, if you told me this time last week that my mother would be back and staying in my spare room I wouldn’t have believed you. I’d have said there was far too much water under the bridge to just let her back in. I’d have said I was way too angry and too upset about what she put us through … but, I don’t know. Somehow, when I saw her – well, it was just joy, Ruth. I’m not angry; I’m not anything negative really. That might change down the road, who knows. Maybe I’m kind of in a strange sort of honeymoon period. But right now, I’m just happy. I’ve got my mum back, and that’s all that matters.’

Ruth nods slowly, and grins.

‘Well, that’s wonderful. It really is. I’m bloody delighted for you,’ she says. ‘Now, go and spread some of that happiness. I’m sure Nadia could do with a bit, bless her.’

As I cross the road to Nadia’s doorway clutching the filled flask and three biscuits wrapped in tinfoil, I can see that she’s engrossed in a book, a grubby paperback she’s holding close to her face.

As I approach her, I call out, ‘Nadia! Hi. I’ve got some tea for you!’

She looks up, a startled expression on her face. She’s wearing the same brown felt hat I saw her in the other day, pulled low over her forehead, and although the day is mild she’s bundled up in a thick padded jacket, fingerless gloves, and a tatty knitted scarf which is wrapped around her nose and mouth. Dark greeny-grey eyes squint up at me and she shrinks back a little, looking alarmed.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,’ I say gently. I bend down and put the flask and biscuits on the step next to her.

‘I’m Beth, from the surgery?’ I wave a hand vaguely in the direction of our building.

‘I work with Ruth – you know Ruth? I said I’d come over with these. I was supposed to be in a meeting but it’s not until four now, so … Anyway, we’ve filled your flask, and there’s some Hobnobs too … Is there anything else I can get you? Anything you need? More books maybe? I’ve noticed you read a lot. Or maybe …’

I pause, feeling uncomfortable. I’m waffling, and she’s just staring at me.

‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘I’ll leave you in peace.’

I turn to leave, but as I start to walk away she calls after me.

‘Beth? Thank you. It’s nice to meet you. And some new books would be lovely, ta.’

Her voice is hoarse, as if she’s smoked for decades, but her tone is polite – kind even. I turn back and smile.

‘Of course, no problem. What sort of stuff do you like to read? What’s that one? Oh, Agatha Christie, fantastic.’

I’m a big Christie fan myself, more at home with her cosy mysteries than with the darker, more violent crime novels some of my friends love. I peer at the cover of the book that’s now resting on the blanket covering Nadia’s legs. It’s The ABC Murders, one of my own favourites.

‘I’ve got loads of her books, if you want to borrow a few,’ I say. ‘What about Crooked House, or Endless Night. Have you read those?’

‘Not for years, and I forget. That would be kind,’ she says, and although I can only see her eyes, I can tell she’s smiling.

We exchange a few more pleasantries and then she reaches for her flask. I say goodbye and head back to work, a little warm, fuzzy feeling inside me, and it’s