Bess looked away when her mum came to his side. She felt sure Fiona had been about to kiss him but realised at the last minute that her daughter was sitting right there.
‘I tell you what,’ said Malcolm, picking up his keys from the Welsh dresser, ‘I’ll get both.’
The second he left, her mum looked worried.
‘Mum, he’s really lovely.’
And now she looked relieved. She sat down next to Bess. ‘Once you get to know him, you’ll like him all the more.’
‘I’m sure I will.’ She glanced up at the kitchen clock. She was going to be late if she didn’t get going soon. So far, her mum hadn’t told Malcolm that she wasn’t staying for dinner and he hadn’t asked because he’d probably been so nervous.
‘I know you have to go soon.’ Fiona must’ve seen her looking at the time. ‘What was it you wanted to talk to me about, love?’
‘It’ll keep.’
‘I know my daughter and I know there’s something, so if you don’t tell me, I’ll be thinking about it all evening.’
Her mother had read her well.
‘There is something but it’s awkward and I don’t think I can get it all out quickly with someone else here. Or someone due back any second.’
‘Spit it out, Bess.’
She looked down at her hands, her curls fell either side of her face to hide away her shame. ‘I need some money.’
‘Money?’
‘A loan, Mum.’
‘Oh, is that all?’ She sat back against the kitchen chair. ‘I thought you were going to tell me you were sick.’ She put a hand against her chest to settle her breathing.
Two years ago, Bess’s world had been rocked more than they thought possible on the anniversary of her dad’s death when she found a lump in her breast. She’d ignored it for almost a week, thinking perhaps it might disappear, that it might be hormonal and go away all on its own, but after Maya’s persuasion she had made an appointment with her GP. She’d assumed he would say the same, that he was sure it was nothing, to come back if it hadn’t gone in a few weeks. But instead, she’d been referred for breast screening with a mammogram and ultrasound, they’d taken a biopsy to be sure they knew what the lump was, and the doctor had wanted to remove the mass to stop it from growing and to prevent it from developing into cancer.
Every stage had involved a wait and with every wait had come the agony of time ticking by, not knowing what she was going to be faced with. Her mum had almost crumpled when Bess had told her about it after Fiona spotted her coming out of the doctor’s surgery. But after that, she’d been a tower of strength, gone with Bess to every appointment, held her hand through it all.
And now, Bess apologised. ‘I’m sorry, Mum. I should’ve started out by saying it’s nothing to do with my health.’ Not her physical health, anyway – her mental health was another thing entirely.
When Bess first found the lump, she’d been in denial, but after screening and being told a biopsy was necessary, plus removal, she’d started to feel an ever-increasing sense of fear creeping up on her. She knew that for some women, thoughtswould have immediately gone to their spouse and their kids, but she didn’t have either of those things. All Bess had been able to think as she’d walked out of the doctor’s office wasI’m not done, I’m not finished, not yet!And so began a cascade of choices that had led to her getting in a total mess.
‘I can help you out, Bess.’ Fiona went to the Welsh dresser and took out her iPad. ‘How much do you need?’ She sat back down.
‘Mum, it’s not that simple… It’s a lot of money.’
‘Well, how much are we talking about?’
Bess shook her head. ‘Too much.’ She was ashamed to say the amount out loud and by the time she looked up, her mother was tapping at the iPad intently.
‘Done,’ said Fiona, setting the device down. ‘I’ve transferred £500 into your account?—’
‘Mum, I?—’
‘It’s done. No arguments. You’re my daughter, of course I want to help. It’s all I have for now, but I can get more.’
‘Mum, have you left yourself enough?’
‘I will manage just fine.’
Bess had come here wanting help, wanting to talk about the level of her debt and get advice, possibly borrow some money to get on top of things. But the last thing she wanted was for her mum to struggle financially as a result. Her face had said it all, that she’d made the transfer and wouldmanage.She didn’t want her mum tomanage.She’d been through enough.
