But then she must have planned this – thinking back to their conversation last night, she’d said something about how it wascolder there than where you are.He hadn’t registered at the time that she hadn’t said it was colderhere.
‘Mum, how did you get here?’
Her grin spread. ‘I got a lift in a lorry.’
She’d bloody well hitchhiked! What sixty-six-year-old did that unless she was trying to recapture some sort of youth? She’d missed out on a lot of years getting pregnant so young, barely out of school herself; perhaps that was a part of what had made her the way she was.
‘It was all above board,’ she insisted. ‘The driver is a husband of a friend and we arranged it last week.’ Well, that was a relief. ‘He was very kind to bring me.’
‘What about your job?’
She waved her hands as though that was unimportant. ‘I’m parched, we didn’t stop off anywhere; could I have a cup of tea after I use your loo?’
‘Sure.’ Why not? Why not act as though she was popping in like a regular mum, come to say a surprise hello rather thanshowing up on the doorstep of the son who she barely saw and who, a couple of visits ago, had gone to her place and had had to clean up vomit from her carpet and help her change her clothes.
The tea gave him something to do. But he needed coffee. A strong one. He dropped a pod into the little machine and positioned a mug beneath the spout.
When the drinks were made, he pushed the mug of tea in her direction. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?’
‘You might have pretended to be out.’ She followed him into the lounge.
‘I wouldn’t have done that.’ He hid his own doubts about this claim behind a sip of coffee that burnt the edge of his lips. He wanted to know how long she was staying – the bag she’d brought could mean one night, or it could mean one month.
It took her a while to look at him and when she did, there was a reticence in her smile, a nervousness in her eyes. ‘I’m back in AA.’ Her fingers stroked the china of her cup. ‘I know, I’ve been before, a few times. And it never worked. I never stuck with it. But it’s different this time.’
It always was.
‘I don’t expect you to believe me,’ she said.
‘What about the job?’ He set down his own mug, clasped his hands together, the knuckles squeezing down onto one another. ‘Last night, you had a job; today, you’re here. You must understand why I’m confused.’
‘I still have the job. It isn’t far from here – I found it online,’ she said, proud of the fact, ‘and it’s only five minutes by bus.’
Oh, God, she was moving in!
‘Five minutes… from here,’ he said.
‘Gio…’
He stood, paced, raked a hand through his hair. ‘How can youdo this to me? You turn up because you have nowhere to live. I can see right through you.’
‘Don’t shout at me.’
‘Why did you lie?’
‘I didn’t. I just never told you everything. They put the rent up on my bedsit. I could barely afford it as it was. And then I found a job but the landlord wouldn’t give me extra time to pay what I owed. They wanted me out. So I found another job here. All I need is a bit of time to gather some money, then I’ll be out of your hair; I’ll go back up north if that’s what you want.’
‘Do not turn this around to be me wanting you to go.’ She was good at the guilt trip, he had to hand it to her. Or perhaps Marco was right when he said that Gio had a habit of shouldering the guilt for her regardless of whether he was at fault or not, just because she was their mother.
‘I’m sorry, I know it’s a lot to ask. But I mean it, Gio, when I say I’m not drinking. I won’t be any trouble. And I’ll pull my weight when I’m here. I promise. It won’t be for too long. And it’ll be good to spend some time with you, if you’re not too busy.’
‘Where exactly is the job?’ Delivering the question, he did his best to calm down.
It worked. He was relieved when she told him it wasn’t at the Whistlestop River Inn but an establishment in the next town. At least if she was to go back to her old ways, it would be one step removed from his local area.
‘And they know you’re not from around here?’ he asked her.
‘I told them I had lodgings.’ She didn’t meet his eye.
