Free Fraser's Line by Monica Carly Page A

was so burdened by her own lack of a sense of self worth that she loaded her hang-ups onto us. We were brought up with some nebulous goal ahead for which we had to strive to gain her approval. Sometimes she was lavish with praise – at other times heavy with disapproval – and our problem was we didn’t really know what elicited which reaction. The goal posts kept moving. What was good one day wasn’t the next. I think there was something buried deep inside her, perhaps when she was a child, that gave her a great big guilt complex, and she had to show the world that she had every reason to deserve its approval, with her idyllic marriage, her praiseworthy children, and her own personal beauty and charm.’
    ‘So when did you gain a qualification in psychology? Your mother, having hang-ups, and a guilt complex – what utter nonsense!’
    Fraser’s face was white. Joanna had started and now she couldn’t stop. ‘You were always so thrilled with her, but deep down she believed she wasn’t worthy of your unwavering admiration, so she kept pushing you to see how far she could go. She wanted there to be a ceiling, but there never was one. She behaved outrageously and you went on shutting you eyes to any fault in her, or in us, for that matter. She treated you abominably, and you let her get away with it.’
    Fraser pushed his plate away. He sat back in his chair, his face pale and taut. After a little while he said, ‘You talking rot. Your mother always acted out of the best possible motives – all she wanted was that Sarah and you grew up to make the best of yourselves, to be happy, and to make your mother, and me, proud of you.’
    ‘It wasn’t that simple – Sarah and I were put under continual pressure but it was hopeless trying to say anything to you. You always got cross with us if you thought we’d upset her and you always supported her.’
    Fraser spoke through clenched teeth. ‘If you believe your mother promised you a car, then I will make good her promise. But I don’t ever want to hear you speak like that about her again, especially now she…’ He did not know how to finish the sentence. ‘I’ll get John to find you the cheapest car possible that’s reliable – he seems to have a lot of contacts – and that will be the end of the matter. I never want to hear anything like this again. And I don’t want any more to eat. Here’s the money – you pay the bill. I’m going home.’
    Not trusting himself to say any more, he left. He felt shattered. His family simply did not have rows or conflict. The idea that his children were not leading fulfilled and happy lives was incomprehensible. As for the indictment of Edie – he could not come to terms with it. The pain he now experienced was quite different from the pain of loss – that was understandable, at least. But this – he now felt thoroughly disturbed and did not know what to do with himself. Once home he walked round and round, wishing he could think of someone to ring up, so that he could talk and somehow rid himself of the unfamiliar and distressing feelings that were engulfing him – but he couldn’t think of anyone.
Chapter 8
    Her mother wore the familiar anxious look she never seemed to shed these days. If she wasn’t looking tense and worried, she was usually in tears. This may have become the norm, but it didn’t make it any easier for Angela to bear. Gone were the days of the happy smile which had made the world feel a good place. Doreen had been like this ever since that frightful day two years ago, now so deeply etched in Angela’s memory.
    Until then life had been relatively easy and comfortable for Angela, and Peter – her brother older by two years. Their father Maurice made a reasonable living, first as a taxi driver, and then, for several years now, as the private driver of an important government official. This meant that he worked long and unpredictable hours, was on call all the time, and was often away for nights as