‘Of course you did.’
‘Gio—’
‘You can’t be surprised that I’m pissed off, Mum!’
She said nothing because she knew he was right. Both he and Marco had been there more for her than the other way round.They did it because they loved her, but there were limits, which she continued to push.
Gio swore under his breath and left the room. He was likely to say far too much if he stayed too close to her right now. He stood in the kitchen, arms strained against the sink, angry, upset, worried, everything else their mother’s presence brought with it.
When he went back into the lounge, she hadn’t moved.
‘I knew you wouldn’t be thrilled.’ Her voice, quiet, made him feel terrible, guilty. ‘But I was looking online for work and couldn’t find much locally and then, I don’t know, suddenly, I was looking near here.’ She shrugged. ‘I miss you, both my boys; I miss my sons.’ And Gio knew that he was the best one to target because Marco might not even let her in the front door of his home in Hampshire.
He almost went to her and hugged her but he couldn’t.
‘I’m sorry, Gio.’
‘Do you know how many times I’ve heard that from you over the years?’
‘The words probably don’t sound genuine given how many times I’ve let you and your brother down. This won’t be a second chance for me with you; it’ll be a twentieth, thirtieth, I don’t know… all I know is that I’d really like this one.’
She was trying, wasn’t she? Perhaps this time, it really would be different?
‘Gio, all I want is to get myself going with this job, and like I said, I’ll pull my weight. I won’t outstay my welcome… or have I done that already?’
‘You haven’t.’ As hard as he knew this would be, he didn’t have it in him to turn her away. He’d never forgive himself. ‘You can stay. A few weeks.’
She smiled and her words rushed at him. ‘Gio, thank you, thank you, you don’t know what this means, I’ll pay you board?—’
‘No, you won’t. You’ll save the money to find somewhere else. And after a few weeks, it’ll be time to move on.’ Not easy unless she had a steady job but perhaps this cleaning gig would turn out to be that. ‘Will you be able to afford it?’
‘I’ll manage. Don’t you worry about that.’
But he would, he always did.
‘I suppose I’d better think of something for dinner tonight,’ he said. ‘Are you still vegan?’ She’d turned vegan a few years ago, announced it to him the day he’d turned up at her flat with chicken sandwiches. He’d had to eat all of them himself.
‘I’m not,’ she smiled, recognising the olive branch, no matter how temporary, when it was handed to her. ‘And I can cook if you like.’
‘We’ll see,’ he said.
She looked at her watch, the watch he’d given her a few birthdays ago. She’d sold a lot of her jewellery in tougher times; he supposed he should be grateful that the watch had survived the cull.
‘What time do you start?’ he asked her.
‘In a couple of hours.’
He went out to the kitchen, found his spare key and handed it to her. ‘Don’t lose it.’
‘I’m not a kid, Gio. I have used keys before.’ But her snappish remark softened to, ‘Sorry, that was rude of me.’
‘Look, maybe we should both try and relax a bit while you’re here.’
‘I’d like that.’
‘How about I show you the spare room. I’ll have to make the bed up.’
‘Thank you, Gio.’ She followed after him as he took her bag upstairs.
