Mum Kate
“Whats all this sniffling about then? Look at the state of you! Its damp enough outside and now youre bringing a puddle in here too!”
A large, formidable woman plonked herself down on the park bench next to Keira.
“Blimey, its stifling today! And that bloody rain first thing didnt help. Feels like a greenhouse now! Its barely past noon and Im soaked through already, can wring me out like a dishcloth!”
Fumbling through her bag, the woman found a bottle of water and, after a bit of a wrestle with the lid, offered it to Keira.
“Fancy some?” She shoved the bottle at Keira. “They say water calms you down. Load of rubbish if you ask me. Could drink a bucket and it wouldnt help a bit.”
Keira stared at her peculiar companion in horror. As if shed not had enough problems for one lifetime, now fate decided to throw this at her? She never could understand people who let themselves balloon out. Didnt they care how they looked? Surely it wasnt hard to eat less or do a bit of exerciseand think about others. All that sweat, the smell, those bulging clothes Ugh. She remembered once, at a spa with her friends, a woman like this one swimming in the pool.
“Im not going in there, girls! Thats it for me today,” declared Liza, Keiras best friend, stretching her lean, tanned body. Liza spent half her life at the gym with a personal trainer, and it showed.
“Why not? I thought wed have a day here?” someone said.
“With her?” Liza wrinkled her nose, jerking a thumb behind her. “I cant even look at that, never mind share a pool. Its disgusting!”
Keira remembered the rant that followednot her fondest memory. Shed felt uncomfortable at the time, but she wasnt a hypocrite. She had to admit she agreed. You cant just let yourself go. Cant tidy yourself up, you should stay at homeLiza had a point.
Now, here she was, stranded next to a woman at least three times the size of that swimmerand she wouldnt stop talking! But Keira didnt have the strength to move. Shed spent hours here already, first crying, then just staring blankly ahead. With nowhere to go but the station, she listened, half against her will, to the womans nattering and then froze.
“Youre a pretty young thing. No suitcase, not even a bag? Not waiting for a train then. Looking for someone? Nowhere to go?”
Keiras eyes flicked away from the wall and finally landed on the woman.
The womans round, rosy-cheeked face was all warmth and cheeruntil Keira suddenly sobbed and, before she knew it, burst into noisy tears. The woman immediately pulled her close, and Keira later couldnt quite explain what happenedit just felt right. She wept, letting her untidy, stylishly cropped head slump against the womans thin, floral blouse, turning it damp in moments. To her surprise, there was no trace of sweat or mustonly a gentle smell of wildflowers. She found herself wondering: was it the laundry powder, or had this woman really rinsed her blouse in fresh herbs? The memory hit hardher mothers hands had smelled just like that, though those memories were all but gone. Mum died in a car accident when Keira was five, leaving behind nothing but the scent of flowers and a hazy vision of mum weaving a daisy chain in an endless meadow.
“Whos upset you, love?”
Keira shook her head, denying it, but then nodded.
“Cowards! Picking on a child,” the woman tutted, rummaging in her bag for a sandwich and a bright red apple. “Come on, down the hatch.”
The simple smell of the food twisted Keiras empty stomachshe hadnt eaten in almost a day, and she was skint.
“Here we are! Hamthe good kind. Made it myself. Tuck in, youre like a breeze away from blowing over!”
“I dont eat meat…” Keira faltered, and looked away.
“Eh? Dont be daft,” the woman pressed the sandwich into Keiras hands and split the apple.
“Nothing…” Keira stared at those broad, unmanicured fingers and realised that running away to the station hadnt been her best plan. But she wolfed down the sandwich anyway, sighing with pleasure.
“Tastes good, eh? There you go. The rest is just nonsense!”
The woman shifted her weight, settling more comfortably, and cast a kindly sidelong glance when Keira eyed the second sandwich.
“Eat, eat properly! Now, tell mehows it youre here, on your own, no bag, no money?”
Keira nodded, wiping her tears, and as the woman waited, she quietly poured out her storythe sort that might barely merit a mention, but to her, was life itself.
Shed left home the night beforefled, in factafter her father told her she wasnt really his daughter and that he and his new wife were having a child together. Keiras world shattered. The man shed called dad, whod raised herhe wasnt her father at all? Hed never dropped a hint, not once.
Shed never connected with her stepmother. How could she? Anna was only a few years older than Keira herself, and she made her feelings clear at their first meeting with a tight-lipped, sugary How sweet you are! That was the end of the peace. Snide comments, tattling to dad, constant tearsit was all like a trashy tabloid drama. Keira had always thought her father would protect her, never realising until too late that everything was different now.
Their final conversation broke her. One evening, her father placed documents on his desk and offered them to her. Adoption papers. Shed been adopted at three months. And if she asked about her real father, she got silenceher adoptive dad either didnt know or didnt want to say. Mum was gone, so there was no one left to ask.
Keira spent half the night staring at the wall before grabbing a jacket and slipping quietly out. She wandered until dawn, eventually heading for the train station because she couldnt think of anywhere else to go. Her phone was dead, and there was no one to call; shed never made any close friends, what with constant family moves. The girls she knew now wouldnt lift a finger for her. Their motto seemed to come straight from some old British kids cartoon: Love yourself! Blow a raspberry at the world! Success will follow! She even bought herself a keyring with a grinning devil on it and attached it to her backpack until, inevitably, it got lost.
The woman listened, watching Keira carefully, saying nothing. When Keira finished, she produced a pack of tissues from her endless bag and handed it over.
“Dry your eyes.”
Another rummage, and out came an ancient, battered purse.
“Right, love. You ought to talk to your dad, but that can wait. Is your phone working?”
“Its dead.”
“I see. Hereyou can borrow this.” She pressed a well-used button phone into Keiras hand.
“Not the latest thing, true, but it works. Big buttons, and you can actually hear people on it. My daughter gave it to me. Call him. Or just send a text to say youre alright. He might be a poor excuse for a parent but no need to worry him sick.”
Keira quietly tapped out a message as the woman watched her, thinking.
“Im Auntie Kate. I live in Cheshire, nice little village out there. Fancy coming with me? If youve got nowhere else to go, its not the worst option, is it?”
“Why?”
“Pardon?”
“Why would you do that?” Keira stared. “Im a stranger. Why do you care?”
Auntie Kate smiled and gently took hold of Keiras chin, her hands soft and warm.
“Because, love, theres no such thing as other peoples children. You can’t just leave a kid to fend for herself.”
“But Im hardly a kid anymore…”
“Course you are! Come on, up you get! Weve got to buy you a train ticket. Miss the next one and well be here all day.”
Thats how Keira ended up at Kate Watsons house.
Neither asked nor explained much on the way; later, Auntie Kate would tell Keira shed learned to wait.
“Timings important. Some folk are ready to share, others arent. Patience, thats the trick, love. Give it time, and theyll pour their heart out.”
Worn out, Keira slept most of the journey and only woke when Kate roused her.
“Wake up, duck, were home!”
As they stepped onto the platform, a tall, skinny woman barrelled up and bruised past, nearly knocking Auntie Kate over.
“Mum Kate! Ive missed two trains! Thought you were never coming back. Hows Nina?”
“Shes fine. Sorted her out with Yarik. Ill pop by in a few days, see how theyre getting on.”
“Had a word with the doc?”
“Said hell do all he can. Young, but seems half decent.”
“And whos this then?” The woman eyed Keira.
“Less questions, please, Sue. Were hungry.”
“Alright, hop in!”
Keira snorted at the little old Fiesta they bundled into.
“What? Thats an airbrush job! My brother Alex did it.”
“Airbrushing,” Keira corrected, tracing a painted cat on the door.
“Oh, listen to you! Airbrushing! Whered you find this clever one, Mum Kate?”
“At the station.”
“Like me…” Sue eyed Keira curiously. “So, can you draw then?”
“Yeah, finished art college.”
“Alexll love that! Hes all self-taught, never studied.”
“Serious? Thats professional work!”
“You tell him that! Come on, lets get going.”
Sue drove like a rally racer, making Keira squeeze her eyes shut on every corner.
“Slow down, Sue! Im used to it, but shell lose her lunch…”
“Oh, shell learn,” Sue jibed, pulling up by a neat little fence. “Here we are!”
Greeted by a pack of chattering kids, Keiras jaw dropped.
“All mine, love,” said Kate, hauling herself out. “But dont worry, I live alone. Kids just gather here. Place is always full. No need to be shy.”
Children flocked around, clinging to Auntie Kate, who patted every head and pinched cheeks.
“My darlings!”
It took Keira a week to untangle the Watson family treeif you could call it thatuntil Sue brought her son over, left him with Kate, and then explained the odd arrangements over tea and biscuits.
“See down the street? Zina, Mike, Anniethey live there. All got families now, you met them when we arrived. Couple more just round the cornerOlivia and Vicky, both settled. On the end of the village theres me, my brother Alex, and Ninathats who Mum Kate saw in town. Her son was born with a heart condition. Theyre keeping an eye on him, may need surgery, fingers crossed.”
“Sue, how do you keep track?”
“You get used to it. Were a crowd!”
“Auntie Kate must be a saint, so many kids of her own!”
Sue burst out laughing.
“She didnt have usshe found us. Were all like you, Keira.”
Keira stopped short.
“What do you mean?”
“She took us in, love. Its a long story…”
Sues house was tiny but warm and spotless. The kitchen boasted hand-stitched curtains lined with bluebells.
“Admiring the handiwork? Vickys, my daughters,” Sue chuckled, boiling the kettle.
“Who taught you?”
“Mum Kate. I couldnt do a thing when she took me in. My parentswell, they drank. Thats easier to say now. I barely remember my childhood. Mum Kate used to say when pain goes on too long, your brain just forgets. Protects itself, you know?”
“Dissociative amnesia.”
“What?” Sue almost dropped the teapot.
“Memory loss, when you block out trauma.”
“And how dyou know that?”
“Was going to study psychology. Read a lot. I mean to apply when I can afford it.”
“So what stopped you?”
“I got sick. Back trouble, operations, missed two yearshad to pay fees. Dad supported me. He wont now. Not sure what Ill do.”
“Must have been hard.”
“Tell me about you, Sue.”
So Sue didtelling Keira how shed run away from home aged thirteen, no money, nowhere to go. Mum Kate found her at a train station, fed her and whisked her to the countryside. Later, she formally adopted Sue and Alex, her little brother.
“Does Auntie Kate have children of her own?”
“No. Ever wonder why shes you know…”
“Large? I assumed she just liked her food.”
“Shes diabetic. Has been for years, and her hearts not great either. Kept her health quiet or theyd never let her keep us. Started proper treatment laterher sisters a doctor, kept an eye on her when she could.”
Sue lowered her voice. “She was beautiful when she was young, you know. Wanted to be a doctor herself. Nearly made it, but failed by a whisker, planned to try again the next year. In the meantime, she went home, fell in love, and married a man from out of town. Lets just say it didnt end well. She wouldnt talk much about it except once, when a hospital doctor spotted old bone breaks. My husband did that, was all shed say. I found out from her sister he went to prison for what he did. Still not enough if you ask me.
She finally escaped, nursed her parents in their last years, ended up alone, with her health failing. Then I turned up. Then Zina, then the others. Mum Kate always says she never looked for lost kidsthey found her. She sorted out their paperwork, housing, benefitsfought tooth and nail for us. The neighbours all know her and if anyones selling up, they check with Mum Kate first.”
“Wheres the money from?”
Sue grinned. “Thats clever of you to ask. Some from the government; Mum Kates become quite the legal eagle by necessity. But beyond thatwell, thats down to Paul.”
“Whos Paul?”
“Hes one of ours, found after Zina. She picked him up in town, dirty, starving, ill. No one else caredhes got learning difficulties. Hed lived rough for a week before he found Mum Kategrabbed her hand and wouldnt let go. When the local bobby called his dad, we were terrified. Flash cars, security, looked like something from a gangster film. Turned out his dad, Mr Cowell, is loadedhe took Paul home, gave him his own cottage, full-time nurse. He helps Kate now, with money mostly, but also top-class lawyers, advice, friends in the council. Mum Kate jokes shes got herself a king, not a princeand hes fair, like in stories. Thats our little soap opera, Keira. Would you believe it if you heard it in the pub?”
“Not a hope,” Keira breathed.
Sue nodded, pouring the tea. “But its true. And without Mum Kate, most of us wouldnt be here at all…”
A clatter in the hall and Sue leapt up, grabbing a pot of soup from the fridge.
“Lunch timesit, Ill get bowls. No sense moping at home, youre one of us now. Relax.”
Sitting round the little table, sharing food and laughs, with men coming in from work, kids clutching light-up trainers, Keira thought she must be dreaming. Shed never eaten at a family table: her fathers work kept him away, and his new wife made meals awkward. This was the first time she realised she wanted this kind of homechildren, laughter, warmth. She didnt notice the tears rolling into her bowl.
“Hey! I already salted the soup!” Sue laughed, slinging an arm around her. “Come on, youre home now. No one will hurt you anymore.”
That day, Keira talked about everythingher mums death, the father who wasnt hers, Annas arrival. With each word, the heaviness lightened. Sue listened intently, only occasionally asking questions.
“You know what I think?” said Sue, after a pause. “Dont begrudge your dad. He raised you as his own, did his best. Maybe hes not handling things well now, but I bet he thought hed never have a child. Has he done a paternity test for the new baby yet?”
Keira flushed. “How did you know?”
“Thats the sort he isno stone unturned. Not all folk can handle happiness right. Sometimes joy knocks folk sideways. Like our Nina, when her house was paid off. She pushed it too farneeded help but didnt ask, it all went off the rails for a bit.”
“And the boyher sonwhy did it happen?”
Sue explained Ninas story, rescued by Kate from a shed shed shared with a dog, barely human until Kate patiently brought her and the dog, Shadow, home together.
They were interrupted as a young girl poked her head round the door.
“Sue, someones come for KeiraGranny says she should go home!”
The girl hesitated, then apologised for interrupting. Sue ruffled her hair.
“Thats Ninas eldest, such a good kid. Off you go, love. Unless you want me to walk you?”
“Ill be okay.” Keira impulsively hugged Sue. “Thank you.”
“Nothing to thank me for, love!” Sue hugged her back. “Remember: youve always got a home here. Anytime.”
“Its strange, Sue All of you, not blood, but you are family.”
“Its not strange at all, Keira. You make family with your heart, not your blood. Thats what lasts.”
Later, Keiras father showed up to take her home. He didnt know that Kate had gone to town, found him, and talked for some hours. He stood awkwardly in the hallway, asking forgiveness and begging her to return.
“No, Dad. Im sorry, but I cant. I wont be a problem for you or Annaits better this way.”
“Ill rent you a flat,” he insisted.
Keira glanced at Kate and nodded. “Id be grateful, just till I find work. I plan to switch to part-time study and support myself.”
“Ill sort everything,” her father promised.
“No, Dad. This is my decision. Didnt you always say, stand on your own two feet? Well, Im doing it.”
Sobering, he asked, “Dont you trust me anymore?”
She smiled gently. “Of course I do. But this is the right thing.”
Her father paid her fees. She finished university and became one of the best child psychologists in Manchesterher schedule was booked weeks ahead. Anna had a baby boy, and Keira was genuinely happy for them, though she visited rarely. It wasnt distance or resentmentsimply, the family she found through Kate was closer to her than anyone else.
So when Kate, whom Keira and the others called mother, fell ill, Keira dropped everything and returned to Cheshire to care for her. The half a year following Kates stroke was the hardest of Keiras life, but in a bittersweet way, the happiest. For the first time, she was surrounded by people who needed her, who accepted her fully.
The family did everythingKate learned to walk again, though she couldnt go far, and her speech was never quite the same. Alex and Russ built her a splendid bench just outside the house, and Kate would sit there, laughing off the childrens teasing as they ran around her:
“Your throne, madam! Will you be taking tea today?”
The children would dart about her, calling, “Granny, did you see my handstand? Fred scored his first goallike a real Lion! We could beat anyone!”
Keira didnt go back to the city till she was certain Kate was back on her feet. And when Keiras wedding came, it was Kate she invited first.
“Mum Kate, will you be there?”
“Always, my love, always…”
