Page 65 of The Scottish Island Inn

‘You have always belonged, Sorrel.’ Catriona leaned forward and took her daughter’s hand. ‘Please don’t ever doubt that. I did what I thought was best. I love you.’

‘Do you?’ Sorrel pulled her hand away from Catriona’s. ‘Sometimes it seemed like you wanted all of us to disappear. That your life would have been easier if we weren’t around.’

It was a low blow, but Sorrel was hurting. And there was a part of her that had felt that. Sorrel had felt, on those days when Catriona had been deep in her black depression, that children were the last thing she wanted or needed.

Catriona blinked, absorbing the impact of what Sorrel had said. She looked as though she was about to retort, and then she bowed her head.

The room was silent for a moment, waiting for her to speak. When she did, it was with barely suppressed tears.

‘I’ve never spoken to any of you about my dark times, and I’m sorry for that. I should have done. I’ve relied on your father, all of these years. He’s tried to get me to see a therapist, or the doctor, but I’ve… I’ve been too afraid,’ Catriona began, quietly. ‘I’m sorry that I had dark days. Believe me, I’d prefer never to have endured them. But they come, sometimes. Managing children, and pregnancy, and recovery every time, has been hard.’

‘Why did you have so many children, if it was so hard?’ Sorrel asked.

‘I wanted a big family.’ Catriona shrugged. ‘The post-natal depression only started with the twins. But I had it with Blossom and Bluebell, too. I didn’t intend to get pregnant again, after Violet and Heather. Four children was more than enough, and I found myself in this dark wilderness after they were born. It was just… a dark veil of nothingness that infected everything in my life. It took me a year to get out from under it, but even then, I wasn’t the same.’

‘What about Blossom and Bluebell? If you wanted to stop at four, why did they come along?’ Sorrel asked.

‘If you really want to know, I thought I’d started early menopause when I got pregnant with Blossom. I had symptoms, and I suppose your father and I weren’t as careful as we might have been. But we were still happy when she came along. And Bluebell… even though I’d had post-natal depression a second time with Blossom, I found I still wanted another baby. My parents had just died, and… I don’t know. I just felt like it was the right thing.’

Sorrel got up and paced around.

‘You should have asked for help,’ she said. She was still angry at her mother, but compassion welled up in her heart.

‘In my day, there was some awareness of post-natal depression but there still wasn’t the support there is now. We called it the baby blues, and you were just expected to get on with it. Your grandmother, my mother, she’d had it too.’ She pursed her lips.

‘Now, I’m not saying that I did everything right. But I was raised in a home where nobody ever got a prize for complaining, and I thought I wasn’t allowed to ask for help. I thought that it made me weak, or a bad mother, or some such nonsense. But I always did my best to be a good, loving mother to all of you.’

‘I know, Mum.’ Sorrel exhaled. ‘You were. It just… it really hurt, when I found that out.’

‘I know. And I’m so sorry. Sorrier than I can ever say.’ Catriona started to cry. ‘I thought I was doing the right thing. Now I can see that I wasn’t.’

Sorrel’s heart contracted with grief at seeing her mother cry. She so desperately wanted to make it all right with her mother. They’d been dancing around each other for all this time, each unable to cross the divide. She knew that she had to be the one to cross the bridge and hold out her hand.

‘I love you, Mum.’ Sorrel came to sit next to her mother. ‘I can forgive you. But I think you should see a therapist. Have some time to yourself, to heal.’

‘Thank you, sweet girl.’ Catriona collapsed into Sorrel’s shoulder; it was as if it had taken all of her strength to stay upright until that moment, and now, nothing was left. ‘I love you too. And I will.’

‘I’m sorry, my lovely girl.’ Catriona mumbled into Sorrel’s shoulder. ‘I’m so very sorry for everything I did wrong. I shouldn’t have kept that secret from any of you. I wasn’t ashamed of what I did. Or of you. I just didn’t want you to feel left out or unwanted. I wanted you to know how much I wanted you. How much I loved you.’

Sorrel held her mother gently. ‘I never stopped loving you, Mum. That was why it hurt so much.’ Her voice cracked.

‘I know, my darling girl. I know.’ Catriona brought Sorrel’s hand to her cheek and held it there. ‘I’ll do my best to make sure you never doubt my love for you ever again.’

There were different kinds of love in the world, and Sorrel knew that she’d been lucky to know some of them, even though, for instance, her love with Tam was in the past.

The warmth in Catriona’s touch glowed through Sorrel’s arm and into her chest, suffusing her heart with a glow of comfort she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Sorrel closed her eyes, feeling her mother’s love flowing from Catriona to her. In her mind’s eye, it was golden, an energy that shone from Catriona’s heart and connected to hers like a beam of sunlight.

‘I’m not going anywhere, Sorrel. I never did. I was always here,’ Catriona murmured. ‘I always will be.’ Catriona kissed Sorrel’s hand and held it tight.

Sorrel felt a tear running down her cheek, followed by another. It had been so long since she had felt her mother’s love that she had almost forgotten what it was like. She had walled herself off from Catriona, hadn’t been able to face having this conversation for ten long years.

And now that she’d had it, she could feel the forgiveness and love begin to flow between her and her mother, and the weight she’d been carrying around start to lighten.

Slowly, Sorrel imagined that she could feel some of the shattered splinters of her heart begin to soften at the edges and fuse together. She felt the tears come, but this time, it was a relief to let them go.

‘I’m sorry, Mum.’ She sobbed as Catriona drew her into a hug.

‘I’m sorry too.’ Catriona smoothed Sorrel’s hair. ‘But we can start again, now, can’t we? We can go back to being a family.’