Mother Love

It’s strange the things we see, especially when under pressure.

When I first brought Daniel home, introduced him to the family, to my mother, I should have seen then. My mother was a widow, too long without a man since my father was killed in the war. I saw the way they looked at each other, the secret looks they gave each other.

Later Daniel said “Well, they say if you want to know what your wife will look like when she’s older, just look at the mother. I can see I’ve got nothing to worry about.

And when I had my mother alone, I asked what she thought of Daniel. “Oh, you’ve got a good catch there, my dear. If I were twenty years younger…”

I should have seen it then, the attraction between them. I should have seen the problems this might cause, but I wanted Daniel so much I chose to ignore it. Besides, if I’d stepped aside, that would have left the field open for her. And what did age matter? Daniel was ten years older than me, and as mother had had us all when we were young, she was only 22 when I was born, that made Daniel twelve years younger than her. Not that much of an age gap. And to think it had been my younger sister Beatrice that I had been worried might have taken his eye.

The following day, the rest of the family were due to gather to peer and scrutinise the man I had chosen to marry. Uncle Richard, my mother’s brother was coming to visit, along with Aunt Lydia and my twin cousins Charles and Erica. It was a lovely summers day. My mother and sister had been busy in the kitchen in the morning preparing food. Mum’s friend Dorothy from next door came round to help out. She’d been a great support to mum over the years since my father’s death. In the meantime, I took Daniel down to see the vicar to discuss the wedding. When we got back, Uncle Richard and family had already arrived, and it was almost time for dinner. 

My mother changed just before dinner into her green A-line dress. It was one she’d had in the war and I knew it had been the one she’d worn when she’d last seen dad. 

“Wow, you look amazing,” Daniel told her. She did too, the colour of the dress matching the colour of her eyes, complementing her auburn hair which was now beginning to show a few grey hairs.

“Well, it’s a special dress for me, and this is a special occasion. We’re celebrating a new man in the family.” I wasn’t sure I liked the way she said man but told myself not to be stupid.

Over dinner, Uncle Richard took over the conversation. He interrogated poor Daniel within an inch of his life as to what his prospects were. Daniel told him about his work as a journalist, about his ambitions.

“Well,” Uncle Richard said finally, “I suppose if you want to give this young woman a home, that’s up to you. Just don’t send her back, that’s all.”

We all laughed, and Daniel promised he’d no intention of sending me back. As long as I behaved myself. He looked at me as he said that, but I thought I saw a momentary flick of his eyes towards my mother.

Over the winter we continued to make preparations for the wedding and I tried to put what fears I had about mum and Daniel to one side. I just wanted it to be perfect. If we went to stay for the weekend, he was always polite, always complimentary, my mother was always welcoming. Too welcoming a voice inside me said.

Plans were made, invitations sent out, and before we knew it, it was April and the wedding was on us. I was to stay at mum’s before the wedding; Daniel and his best friend Dominic were to rent a room at the local hotel. Uncle Richard and his family came and we managed to squeeze them all in at mum’s place. Bea and Erica were to be bridesmaids, Charles was a to be an usher, and Uncle Richard would give me away. And Aunt Lydia was to keep us all in order, a role in which she was well qualified, and mum allowed her to do it. Dorothy was to come to the wedding too and made sure she busied herself tidying up after everyone had breakfasted and generally making sure mum was okay.

I’d been first in the bathroom, was walking back to the room I’d been sharing with Beatrice and Erica, when I heard a noise. I looked to the left, towards the room that Uncle Richard and Aunt Lydia had been sharing. The door was open, and beyond that was a mirror. And in the mirror, there they were. Daniel and mum. It was his voice that had alerted me.

“Oh, you sweet little vixen, come here.”

And there she was, in her green dress, with her auburn hair tumbling round her shoulders, flecked with the first threads of grey, laughing at him as he swung her into his arms, leaned over her, stopped her laughter with a long, lingering kiss.

He looked up then, saw me in the mirror, and not breaking off from kissing mum, used his foot to push the door shut.

I stood there, speechless, not knowing what to do, feeling sick to the stomach. Suddenly I was aware of Bea shaking me, asking me what was wrong, that she needed her turn in the bathroom. And as I came to my senses, Aunt Lydia came out of the room, the room where I had just seen Daniel with my mother. But as I looked now, all I could see was the mirror and a reflection of an empty room.

And as Aunty Lydia steered me towards Bea’s room, I saw my mother come out of her room. “Good heavens Rachel. Don’t you want to marry that lovely man of yours? You’d better get dressed now.” She was wearing a peach twin set, and her hair was up, not flowing round her shoulders.

Eventually the house went quiet and there was just Uncle Richard and I left. I went up to the room, pushed the door open, looked in at the mirror, at the room. This was just an ordinary house, no large mansion with hidden room, secret staircases. What you saw is what there was.

“Last minute nerves girl?” It was Uncle Richard. I hadn’t heard him come upstairs. “Don’t worry, we all have them.”

He saw that I had been looking at the mirror. “What’ve you seen in there then? Whatever it is, I shouldn’t take much notice of it. That was my mum’s and her mum’s before that. Glass of mischief’s what we used to call it. Sometimes shows things that aren’t really there. Now, are we going to this wedding or not? My waistcoat’s a bit tight, and I could do with getting to the reception and getting it undone.”

I let him lead me to the church, and here was another puzzle. In the mirror, Daniel had been wearing a brown suit. Now he was wearing dark grey.

The wedding was over, the reception under way. At one point, I leaned over towards my new husband. “Did you come over to mum’s this morning at all?”

“Are you kidding? Been too busy panicking. Ask Dom. Why?”

“Just saw someone in a brown suit that looked like you, that’s all.”

“Well, it wasn’t me, I definitely don’t have a brown suit.” And then it was time for the speeches, the toasts, and nothing more was said.

We went to France for our honeymoon, setup home together. The idea was to have a couple of kids, but twins the second time around made it three. And each time we visited mum or she visited us, I’d get nervous, wondering if this time, this time, it would be for real. I worried each time he had to go away for work, worried in case he’d drop off to see her on the way home, or worry in case he wasn’t working at all.

1985 and there were celebrations for the 40^th anniversary of the end of the war. The town where mum lived was having a 1940’s themed party, and mum asked us to come visit for the occasion. I wasn’t sure, but Daniel insisted we go; it had been a while since we visited. “Besides,” he said, “just look at what I’ve found to wear.” And he showed me a baggy brown suit.

I looked at my wardrobe, pulled out an old dress that had seen better days, but was definitely more 1960s that 1940s. It would have to do. I couldn’t find anything else in the charity shops. My mother welcomed us when we arrived. The children were to be in my sister’s old room, and we were to be in the other room, the one with the mirror.

My mother did my hair in the style of the day, curls falling to my shoulders, but viewed my old mini dress with contempt. “You certainly didn’t have skirts that short in the war,” she said.

“But I haven’t got anything older.”

“Leave it with me, I’ll see what I can do. Sorry, but you can’t go like that.” And she hurried out the room.

“Told you,” Daniel said, smug in his brown demob suit.

Mum bustled back in. “Here, try this on. Should fit you. I’ll sort the children out.” And she handed me a hanger. It was the green dress.

“Hmm, always liked that dress,” Daniel said. “I’ll leave you to put it on. Back in a minute.”

I put the dress on. Of course it fit perfectly. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I noticed that there was just a smattering of grey in my hair. And as I watched, Daniel returned and I finally understood.

“Wow, that looks so good on you,” he said, making me laugh. “Oh, you sweet little vixen, come here,” he said as he swept me into his arms and kissed me. And as he kissed me, I could hear him kicking the door shut. I wondered who he had seen outside.