A Blessing In Disguise by Elvi Rhodes Page A

she’s gone to bed,’ my mother says. ‘Oh, Venus love, I’m really worried about her! She’s such an unhappy little girl.’
    â€˜I know. And I’m not a deliriously happy woman,’ I reply. ‘But what more can I do?’
    â€˜She’s on all the time about coming back to Clipton with me and her grandpa . . .’
    â€˜I’ve already told her that’s impossible,’ I interrupt. ‘She has to live here, with me. You know that.’
    â€˜Of course I do, love. But I wondered . . .’ She pauses.
    â€˜Well?’
    â€˜Do you think she could go back with us tomorrow . . . ?’
    â€˜I’ve already said . . .’
    My mother holds up her hand, and when my mother holds up her hand, perhaps because she seldom does, you stop and listen. My Dad knows that, I know it, Philip knew it. I think my mother has succeeded so far with Becky because she’s listened without ever holding up her hand and stopping her. That’s how grandparents are. Indulgent, open to persuasion, but I am only a daughter so I wait for my mother to have her say.
    â€˜If she could go back with us tomorrow and stay just until the weekend – she doesn’t have to start school until Monday – I think it would help her a lot, give her a bit of a breather. And you too.’
    â€˜You think I’m being hard on her, don’t you?’ I’m aware I’m sounding aggrieved but it’s partly because I really don’t know what to do. ‘It’s an acute stage for me as well as for Becky, you know.’
    My mother shakes her head.
    â€˜I’m sorry, love, but however bad it is for you, it’s worse for Becky. You have an incentive for coming here. You made the choice. Even if you didn’t think it was going to be perfect you knew you would make something of it. Becky’s too young to think that. She had no choice, she was made to come, and she’s left everything behind – her friends, her school and – don’t forget – her father. She can’t think of him as being here in this place.’
    â€˜How could I forget?’ And hadn’t I heard more or less the same thing from Sonia Leyton yesterday?
    â€˜Of course you can’t. But Becky’s a child. Everything’s in the present. Her world is here and now, she can’t believe that things will get better. Oh dear, I don’t know whether I’m saying any of this properly. I’m not clever like you. I can’t find the words!’ My mother’s face is lined with anxiety. Suddenly I feel terribly guilty about her.
    â€˜Don’t worry . . .’ I begin – but she interrupts me.
    â€˜Venus love, just sit down for a minute and think about it. Please!’
    I must have heard my mother say that a hundred times in my life. Venus love, sit down for a minute and think about it. Quite often it works.
    â€˜I’ll make a cup of tea,’ she says, and disappears into the kitchen. So I do as I’m told and sit and think.
    When she returns with the tea I say, ‘All right! You win!’
    â€˜It isn’t a battle,’ she says.
    â€˜Well at times it feels like it! Anyway, she can go with you tomorrow and stay until the weekend. I’d like her to come back on Saturday evening. And how’s she going to get back? Am I to come and fetch her, or what? I could do that, I suppose.’
    â€˜No, love. It’s better if your Dad and I bring her back, that’s if you can put up with us for another weekend. If you could it might actually help Becky to see that not everything in her life is upside down, that some things haven’t changed and won’t change.’
    There’s a short silence between us, and then I say, ‘You’re right, Mum.’
    Actually, I think, I could go further than that. Much as I would miss her, I suppose Becky could spend parts of her school holidays with