Another Mother's Life Read Online Free PDF Page B

opened the car door reluctantly. “It really sucks that you are making me go through with this.”

    Alison knew he was resentful and possibly even a little bitscared about what his new set of peers would think of him. But she also knew she couldn’t reach out and put an arm around his shoulders to comfort him because he’d find that almost as distressing as getting out of the car and walking through the gates.

    “Do you want me to come in with you?” she offered impulsively. He looked at her as if she were mentally ill.

    “No,” he said, getting out of the car and slamming the door shut behind him. “I’m not a kid.”

    Alison watched him for a few minutes as he walked away.

    Once, they had been so close. They had always been side by side and hand in hand—in step with each other. It hadn’t been the birth of his sister Gemma that had changed that, nor even his bumpy and painful ascent into manhood. It was the day he realized that Alison was weak and flawed and incapable of doing anything to change herself. Since then all he had ever seemed to be was angry with her.

    “He looks like a right old grump,” Gemma said, leaning forward in her seat to watch Dominic slouch away.

    “Will he be all right, Mama?” Amy asked anxiously. “It looks like a big place to be in on your own. Is our school this big?”

    “No, darling, it’s little. Remember when you looked round, you said it looked like a doll’s house? And anyway Dom won’t be alone; he’ll be making lots of new friends just like you will.” Alison waited for him to go through the gate and head toward the main entrance; then she took her mobile out of her bag and phoned the school reception.

    “Hello, it’s Mrs. James here. I just want to check that my son is signing in with you like he’s supposed to. It’s his first day and you know how boys are. He won’t let me come in with him to make sure he’s okay.”

    “Yes, thank you, madam,” the receptionist said in an even tone. “The delivery has arrived safely. We are dealing with it now.”

    “Thank you so much,” Alison said warmly, grateful for the discretion.

    “Not at all,” the receptionist said.

    It was about two minutes later that she got a text from Dominic saying “Stop checking up on me.”

    She was a little late getting the girls to St. Margaret’s First School, but she didn’t think it mattered on their first day because she had to go see the headmistress first anyway before they would be taken off to their classrooms.

    Whereas Dominic’s school was attended by all the children in the town who weren’t privately educated, St. Margaret’s was not; Alison had not gone there when she’d been her daughters’ ages, and it was something of a relief to be in an unfamiliar and neutral environment. She only wished that both of her daughters felt the same way.

    It was a sweet little school, built around an original Victorian schoolhouse, and what it lacked in playing fields because of its town center location it made up for in atmosphere. The thing that Alison had liked about it most was the sense of community in the school. The children all seemed to care about each other, the bigger ones looking out for the little ones. Alison thought that this was especially important for Amy.

    Dear, precious, uncomplicated Gemma, who could have little idea how her self-confidence and adaptability kept her mother going, had been chatting happily to her teacher when she was taken off to her classroom to be introduced to her new classmates. Amy had not gone happily at all. She had cried and cried, clinging to Alison’s skirts, begging her mummy to take her home with her. Eventually Alison had had to peel her daughter’s fingers from the fabric, desperately trying not to cry herself, and physically hand her to the teacher.

    “Come on, darling,” Alison had said, holding her daughter’s hand out to the teacher. “You go with Miss Pritchard now. You’re going to have a lovely