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    The Perfect Mother (ARC)

    Page 7
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    sore from pressing my mobile hard against it.

      ‘Honey, this baby will have great results, but a huge donation pretty much guarantees the best spot in class.’

      Her breath ruffled the line. ‘Anyway, listen to me, running away with myself. The most important thing is love. Our

      baby will have a childhood, too. Our son is an absolute

      delight. We’re pretty inspirational parents. We’ve worked

      hard to make our dreams come true.’

      I thought about my life in comparison. I couldn’t

      even keep down a cleaning job. I cast an eye over the

      many pictures I’d drawn that were Blu-tacked to my wall.

      Not exactly gallery material. This baby would hardly be

      inspired by me.

      I snapped out of my gloom. I was being thrown a

      lifeline. I needed to grab it with both hands. ‘What’s the

      next step?’ My stomach grumbled, reminding me that

      my fish finger sandwich was overdue.

      ‘Oh.’ Julie inhaled sharply. ‘You want to progress

      things? That’s awesome. Me too!’

      The next round meant telling all other applicants I

      was no longer available and arranging a meeting with the

      couple in person, where we could talk things through.

      There would also be further documents, Q&A, health

      screening on both sides. All organised by the agency

      Miracle-Moms.

      59

      Caroline Mitchell

      ‘I can’t wait to find out who you really are,’ I said.

      But there was an underlying current of concern. What

      if they were politicians I hated, or people with chaotic

      social lives? I needed to put a face to the names.

      ‘Of course. And if all goes well with the next round,

      we’ll get the non-disclosure agreement signed. You’ve

      already completed the blood tests, so technically we could

      be flying you to New York in a couple of weeks.’

      My mouth fell open for the second time. Me? Fly to

      New York?

      ‘But my job … I’m not sure if I can get time off at

      such short notice.’

      It was a lie. I only had a couple of weeks left to work.

      But it was all beginning to feel real now, and I needed

      more time to think.

      ‘We’ll compensate you. You won’t be out of pocket.

      My PA will take care of the visa. As long as you haven’t

      a criminal record, it won’t be a problem at all.’

      It was all moving so fast and felt so surreal. I had to

      force myself to reply. ‘OK then. I’ll have the records

      released to your doctor as soon as you send me through

      the details.’

      ‘Don’t worry, the agency will take care of that.’ Julie

      spoke with authority. ‘Just tick the consent box and they’ll do the rest. Once you’re happy with everything, we’ll

      arrange to meet. If you have any questions in the mean-

      time, just drop us a line.’

      I hunched my shoulders as a stiff breeze crept in

      through the cracked window pane. Opportunities like

      these did not present themselves to people like me. I

      strung together a few polite words, thanking her before

      we both ended the call.

      60

      The Perfect Mother

      Dropping my phone on to the bed, I hugged my knees

      to my chest. Just like that, a piece on the chessboard had

      been moved. The game was on. There was no going back

      from this. Tears welled in my eyes.

      ‘How about that,’ I mumbled to my baby. ‘I’ve only

      gone and done it, little bean. We’re going to New York.’

      61

      CHAPTER ELEVEN

      Sheridan

      Sitting with her head bowed, Sheridan picked at the

      label on her bottle of beer. She had not been out in

      public without her entourage for four years and she felt

      vulnerable on her own. In this bar, with sawdust on the

      floor and country music playing on the jukebox, she was

      confident she would go unrecognised. She was dressed in

      keeping with her surroundings, wearing cowboy boots

      and low-slung jeans, and a padded jacket bulked out her

      thin frame. Her long blonde hair was in a French plait,

      tucked beneath her peaked hat. She sipped her beer. Pulled

      a face. There were some celebrities who enjoyed going

      incognito, but it was not for her. Daniel would be horrified if he knew she was there on her own. Not that she was

      totally alone. She watched the door from her viewpoint

      as her old acquaintance strode in. He extended his hand,

      his skin rough from physical labour, his face weathered

      from working outdoors. Looking at him now, with his

      sandy moustache and unkempt hair, it was hard to believe

      that Mike had once lived in her world.

      ‘How’s it going, buddy?’ she said, patting his back as

      he leaned in for a hug. He reeked of cigarettes and chew-

      ing gum, and his leather jacket smelt like horse hide. ‘Sit,’

      62

      The Perfect Mother

      she said, in response to his incoherent murmurs. ‘I got

      you a drink.’

      Sliding on to a stool next to her, Mike raised the bottle

      of Budweiser to his lips. The years had not been kind

      to him since he’d stopped working on It Takes All Sorts.

      While Sheridan’s career had flourished, Mike had been

      unable to deal with the pressures of being so famous so

      young. Failure after inevitable failure had led him down

      the slippery path of alcohol and drug abuse. It was five

      years since he’d been released from prison after serving

      time for assault and theft. Since then, Sheridan had given

      him a lifeline, buying him medical insurance and a pro-

      viding a yearly wage. The money had been earned. He

      had made contacts while inside, and in times of trouble,

      Mike was her go-to man.

      ‘How you doing?’ he said, his eyes roving over her

      form. ‘I read about you in the papers. Family life suits

      you.’ Sheridan was about to respond when he leaned in,

      his voice soft and low. ‘Tell me it was worthwhile. I still think about her, you know … I still see her face.’ His

      features were haunted by the memory of an incident

      Sheridan could not bring herself to discuss.

      ‘I didn’t ask you here to talk about her,’ she said,

      quickly glancing around to ensure they weren’t being

      overheard. ‘I need another favour.’

      Mike shook his head, a bitter smile twisting his chapped

      lips. ‘Not gonna happen, Sherry baby. I’m sorting my life

      out. I’m not interested.’

      Sheridan flinched at the use of the nickname he’d

      resurrected from her past. ‘Are you forgetting who’s been

      funding your lifestyle these past few years? That money

      won’t last forever. You know that, don’t you?’

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      Caroline Mitchell

      Mike shrugged, tipping the bottle of Budweiser to his

      lips. ‘I figured as much. Which is why I’ve got a job. I’m

      in construction now, learning the ropes. Hope to work

      myself up the ladder someday.’

      Sheridan sighed. It was so long since she’d had social

      interaction with ordinary people; now she realised she

      had gone about this all wrong. Mike was doubting her.


      She could see his trust ebbing away.

      ‘Sorry, I’m nervous,’ she said, reaching for his hand

      and clasping it beneath her own. She watched his frown

      fade, his shoulders drop. At the bar, an old drunk drawled

      a Tammy Wynette song about standing by your man.

      What would Daniel say if he could see her now?

      Sheridan threw Mike a roguish smile, tilting her face

      to one side. But it wasn’t her. It was one of the many

      personas she had played over the years. ‘C’mon, you re-

      member me, you know what I’m like.’ She concealed

      her disgust as Mike rubbed his thumb along the back of

      her hand. It felt like sandpaper against her smooth skin.

      ‘We’ve got history,’ she continued. ‘That’s why I always

      come to you first. You’re my protector. You keep me safe.’

      ‘Do you mean it?’ Crossing his legs, Mike regarded her

      with mild suspicion. ‘Or are you just yanking my chain?’

      Sheridan knew she was leading him on, but she could

      not back out now. ‘I always thought we’d end up together,’

      she said wistfully. ‘Who knows, maybe in another di-

      mension…’ She allowed the words to linger. There was

      a lifetime of longing on his face. She had him exactly

      where she wanted him. Now it was time to seal the deal.

      But Mike broke their contact, finishing off his beer.

      ‘I meant what I said. I can’t do that again.’

      ‘I know, honey,’ Sheridan quickly replied. ‘I’m not

      asking you to. I just need you to shut someone up for a

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      The Perfect Mother

      little while.’ She pushed her beer towards him. ‘Here,

      have mine.’

      ‘Is it Rachel?’ Mike wrapped his hand around the

      bottle as Sheridan responded with a nod. ‘I had a feeling

      that that’s what this was about. She’s always had it coming.’

      Sheridan fought to contain her smile. She knew there

      was no love lost between them. Sheridan, Rachel and

      Mike had acted together side by side for years on It Takes All Sorts. Sheridan’s popularity had grown as a teenager when she and Mike shared their first on-screen kiss. It

      was her first kiss in real life, too. From the ages of six to sixteen years, every milestone in Sheridan’s life had been

      choreographed for the screen. She spent so long on the

      show that by the end of it, she didn’t know who she was

      any more. Then five years ago, Rachel had approached

      her. As with Mike’s, Rachel’s career had failed to bloom.

      Like a fool, Sheridan had taken her into her home, giving

      her a well-paid housekeeping job. She had to admit, she

      had taken a little satisfaction in getting Rachel to carry

      out menial tasks.

      ‘I should have taken you in, not her,’ Sheridan said,

      as thoughts of Rachel tied her up in knots. ‘But Daniel

      gets jealous. He would have felt the spark between us. I

      couldn’t take the risk.’

      ‘Really?’ Mike said, his eyes alight. ‘You feel it too?

      It’s still there, isn’t it?’

      Sheridan resisted the urge to laugh out loud. As if.

      Her heart began to beat double-time as she progressed

      to her next move. She had to do this. He was the only

      person she trusted not to go to the police; by doing so, he would be implicating himself. Later, she could be asking

      much more of him. She leaned forward and swallowed

      back her revulsion before pressing her lips upon his.

      65

      Caroline Mitchell

      He may have been her first kiss, but like now, it had all

      been for show. As if cameras were rolling before them,

      she injected meaning into the contact, as if he were her

      long-lost love. She knew by his response that their stolen

      kiss meant so much more to him.

      Slowly, they parted. ‘I’ll always care for you, Mike. I

      wanted to show you how much.’

      ‘I … I’ve got a place not far from here,’ he said, shift-

      ing in his seat, his face flushed.

      Sheridan shook her head. ‘You know I can’t do that.

      I love Daniel. You and me … we’re like two pieces of a

      jigsaw puzzle that don’t fit together any more.’

      Slowly, Mike’s tongue traced his lips, as if he could

      still taste their lingering kiss. He smiled. ‘What can I do for you?’

      Sheridan returned his smile. This time it was genu-

      ine, because Rachel would get what was coming to her.

      ‘She’s been blabbing to Celeb Goss magazine. I want you to arrange a little accident, something to shut her up.’

      Mike stiffened as the drunk at the bar wobbled past

      them on his way to the toilets, humming out of key.

      Satisfied he was out of earshot, Mike leaned closer, his

      words hushed but sharp. ‘I won’t kill her. I can’t stand

      the bitch, but please … not that.’

      ‘I’m not asking you to.’ Sheridan’s eyebrows shot up

      at the mention of murder. Why did people always think

      the worst of her? ‘Just lay her up for a few weeks. There’s a hundred grand in it for you. That should keep you going for a while.’

      ‘Make it two. Come on, Sherry, you can afford it – it’s

      a drop in the ocean to you.’

      Sheridan pursed her lips. ‘It’s still a drop I have to

      explain to my auditors when they do my accounts. A

      66

      The Perfect Mother

      hundred k can be explained away as a gift to an old friend, but not two. I’ll keep up your health insurance. It’ll give you peace of mind.’

      ‘Yeah, but…’

      Sheridan checked her watch. She was growing bored

      now, and she needed to get back. ‘Listen,’ she said, cut-

      ting him off. ‘I’m offering you a lot of money to teach

      that poisonous bitch a lesson. If you’re not interested in

      helping me, then…’

      ‘Of course I’ll help. You’re my Sherry baby.’ Mike’s grey

      eyes held a depth of emotion. ‘I’ve seen all your movies a

      dozen times or more.’ He paused. ‘You had a tough time

      with your mom growing up. I know that things haven’t

      always been easy for you.’ Sheridan’s mother both wrote

      and produced the award-winning show. Even when they

      were off air, she was constantly pushing her daughter for

      a better performance. ‘People talk as if reality shows are

      a new thing, but we’d been doing it for years,’ he added

      as an afterthought.

      Sheridan squeezed his hand in thanks. ‘Good. I’ll

      leave you to it. Don’t get caught.’ She rose from her stool.

      Mike stretched his long limbs as he stood before her.

      ‘Do you have to go so soon? It would be nice if we could

      spend time together. Talk about the old days.’

      ‘I’m sorry, honey, but I’ve got to get back. Daniel

      will be wondering where I’ve gone.’ Now she had got

      what she wanted, Sheridan couldn’t wait to escape Mike’s

      company.

      ‘We did the right thing, didn’t we?’ Mike asked, his

      face haunted with past memories.

      ‘What’s done is done,’ Sheridan replied. ‘Put it out of

      your mind. You’ve been to prison. You know I’d never

      survive it.’ Sheridan felt no guilt for what she was asking 67


      Caroline Mitchell

      him to do. She was doing this for her family. She had

      no regrets.

      * * *

      ‘Bloody hell!’ Daniel stared at his newspaper open-mouthed.

      ‘Don’t swear in front of Leo,’ Sheridan said, before

      signalling to the nanny. ‘Isabella, clean his face, will you?

      It’s almost time for school.’ She turned to her child, who

      was sitting between them at the kitchen table, evidence of

      his peanut butter and jelly sandwich sticking to his face.

      It was hardly the breakfast of champions, but he refused

      to eat anything else.

      Sheridan was less than happy. Having dismissed

      Samantha, her PA, to wait in the living room, she ex-

      pected some family time with Daniel and Leo. It was

      not often the three of them got to sit down for breakfast

      together. If Daniel wasn’t glued to a manuscript, he was

      on the phone to his agent. Why couldn’t he give them

      his undivided attention for twenty minutes in the day?

      ‘Time for bluddy school!’ Leo giggled, his blue eyes

      twinkling with delight. He had his father’s dimples, pressed firmly into his chubby cheeks. He was intelligent enough

      to recognise one of Daddy’s bad words and was happy to

      repeat it when it popped up.

      ‘See?’ Sheridan snapped at her husband. ‘I told you he

      had a foul mouth. I’ve got you to thank for that.’

      She turned her attention back to a clean-faced Leo

      and straightened his tie. She adored his school uniform.

      It made him look like a miniaturised little man. But she

      hardly wanted such vulgar language completing the image;

      the prestigious Saint James Christian school demanded

      68

      The Perfect Mother

      more of its pupils. It was the number one elementary

      school in New York with an overall average grade of

      A+. At $48,000 a term, Sheridan expected nothing less.

      Education was important to her, particularly as she’d been

      home-schooled herself. If the press knew about her fake

      university degrees, they would have a field day.

      She gazed into her son’s eyes. ‘Now listen, darling,

      Daddy said a bad word. You mustn’t say that to anyone,

      do you hear me? You’re a good boy.’

      Leo slid down from the kitchen chair, his face sullen

      from the reprimand. ‘I love you, Mommy,’ he recited.

      ‘That’s nice, darling,’ Sheridan said, patting him on

      the back. It was Leo’s immediate response whenever he

     


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