‘I showed him my scar,’ Mum said. ‘I finally plucked up the courage.’
‘Crikey,’ I said. Mum had always told me she’d never show it to anyone. ‘I’m assuming he didn’t run a mile after all?’
Mum shook her head and paused wiping up. ‘D’you know what he did?’ she asked.
I’d noticed an unusual tremor in her voice, so I also paused what I was doing so that I could turn to look at her properly, and when I did I saw her eyes were glistening.
‘Go on,’ I prompted.
‘Hekissedit,’ Mum said, her voice cracking. ‘He kissed the scar, sweetheart. I get all tearful every time I think about it.’
‘Oh, Mum,’ I said. I released the dish I was holding into the soapy water and turned to give her a hands-free hug.
‘Yes,’ she said, when she could speak again. ‘I definitely think he might be the one.’
‘So you’re in love,’ I said. ‘Like, properly, full-on in love this time?’
‘I’m all over the place,’ she said. ‘Butterflies and everything. I can’t believe it never happened to me before.’
‘That’s wonderful, Mum,’ I said. ‘I’m really, really happy for you.’
‘You know what it reminds me of?’ Mum said. ‘Well, whatIremind me of, really. I’m like you, when you were seventeen.’
I paused until Mum realised what she’d said.
‘Oh, God, I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’
‘No,’ I lied, ‘it’s fine. Moving on…’
‘You know I saw him the other day?’ Mum said. ‘On the telly.’ Apparently she wasn’t ready to move on.
‘Billy?’ I asked, more shocked that she was continuing the conversation than that she had mentioned him in the first place.
Mum nodded. ‘He’s down in Suffolk or somewhere. Lives next door to Kate Bush.’
‘Really?’ I said. ‘God! I thought he was in LA.’
‘He’s come back, apparently,’ Mum said. ‘Though it might be Devon, actually, not Suffolk.’
‘Suffolk’s over on the east coast, Mum. Ipswich, Bury StEdmunds, all that… Was it East Anglia or the West Country?’
‘Oh, no, it’s not over there. It was definitely down south but, you know, on the left.’
‘So, like, Sussex? Or Dorset? Somerset, maybe?’
‘Oh, I don’t know, dear, do I?’ Mum said, sounding exasperated. ‘It’s one of those down that way.Andhe’s divorced.’
I shot a worried glare her way when she said that, because, though it was admittedly important information to me, I didn’t understand how she knew that.
Mum pulled a face. ‘What?’ she said. ‘He is!’ Then, ‘Oh, don’t be daft I wasn’t suggesting… I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just saying. It’s celebrity gossip, that’s all. He lives down in Suffolk or Sussex or wherever next to Kate Bush and he’s divorced, that’s all.’
‘Right,’ I said. ‘Well, thanks for the update. Again, moving on…’
‘D’you think he can hear her singing?’ Mum asked. ‘I mean, when she’s practising and that. Because that would be my absolute bloody nightmare.’
I laughed out loud at that, and the laughter felt good. It dispelled some of the tension in the room. ‘I like Kate Bush,’ I said. ‘You know I do. She’s got a lovely voice.’
‘Yeah, well,’ Mum said. ‘You just like her ’cos she sings even worse than you.’
