Adrenaline was coursing through Roxi’s body even beforeshe opened the front door and spotted the dozen new, unopened boxes stacked up against the wall. All were addressed to her. As someone who’d grown up in the care system, she could only watch with envy as children in TV shows had opened heaps of brightly wrapped boxes on a Christmas morning. Now every day was like the Christmas Day she’d longed for. And she wondered if the novelty of receiving gifts as an adult would ever wear off.
Two hours had passed since her appearance on ITV’s early evening magazine show. Millions had watched her argue that people living in Old Towns should require visitor’s passports to go to New Towns. She had put across her point concisely and with passion, and, if she continued to perform like this, she was convinced it would once again boost her social media following. The road to Instafame was littered with the deactivated profiles of Influencers whose stars burned too brightly too quickly. Roxi would not be like them. She had worked too hard to shine to simply fizzle out.
She cocked her ear to listen to the music coming from the other side of the kitchen door. Owen, Darcy and Josh’s voices were singing along to music playing from the Audite. She opened the door quietly and watched as Darcy diced vegetables, Josh perched on the worktop peeling potatoes and Owen searched the pan drawer.They don’t need you to be a family, a voice in the back of her head whispered. And, for a moment, her light dimmed. She had wasted many an hour trying to share the joy they found in small things, but she never quite managed it. She wondered if she might ever be truly fulfilled by those around her.
She removed her phone, took a quick photo, placed graphics of hearts across it and added a song about family love before posting it on Instagram. It might prompt sponsorship from a recipe delivery box service. Roxi waited until followers began to praise her ‘beautiful family’ and comment on how fortunate she was. Her light returned.
She offered an enthusiastic ‘hello’ as she entered the kitchen. The singing tapered off and the temperature cooled as she shrugged off her coat and placed her phone on the island.
Owen and Darcy muttered their greetings while Josh flashed a brief smile. She waited unsuccessfully for something more.
‘Well?’ she eventually asked. ‘Is that it?’
‘Is what it?’ asked Darcy without looking up.
‘You watched it, didn’t you?’
‘Watched what?’
Roxi turned to her husband. ‘Owen?’
‘I’ve been at work,’ he said. Neither asked to what she was referring.
Roxi folded her arms and locked them tight like magnets. ‘ITV Tonight?’
‘Nope, sorry,’ said Owen.
‘Not even on catch-up? I included a link on my socials.’
‘I don’t follow you,’ said Darcy with a hint of satisfaction.
‘We could watch it now if you like?’ Roxi asked.
‘Maybe after dinner,’ Owen replied.
Roxi’s shoulders slumped. Her family might not have cared, but she was sure that, if her best friend Phoebe was still alive, she’d be proud of her. A buried memory reappeared, one of a silent version of herself, a child ignored by classmates at each new school she was parachuted into. Friendship groups had already been formed by the time she’d arrived and there was rarely an opening for latecomers – least of all one who was unlikely to remain in the same school for long.
She pulled herself back to the present.
‘Well, thanks so much for your support,’ Roxi continued. ‘You’re quick to forget all the hours I’ve spent making costumes for school plays or the nights I’ve spent at parents’ evenings and sports days.’
‘Dad did most of that,’ said Darcy.
‘Not all of it! Now I’ve found my niche and you’re pretending it’s not happening. I’m being gaslighted by my own family.’
‘Sorry, Mummy,’ said Josh. At least he sounded as if he meant it.
‘Guys, can you give your mum and me a minute, please?’ asked Owen.
Roxi recognized the glance that passed between them. She’d witnessed it before. It suggested a conversation about her that she’d been excluded from. Her arms remained folded until they were alone.
‘What am I about to be blamed for tonight?’ she began defensively. ‘What a terrible wife I am or how I’m using my kids to progress my career?’
‘Neither. Look, Rox, I’m sorry for saying I didn’t want to be married. I didn’t mean it; I was angry. But we need to find a way to adjust our relationship and make it work, especially now that we’re being monitored. You can’t say either of us are happy at the moment, right?’
‘I was until I got home,’ Roxi huffed. ‘It was a huge day for me and I wanted to share it with my family. But none of you could care less.’
‘Of course we could,’ Owen replied calmly. ‘But it cuts both ways. When did you last ask us about our days? And I support you by working all hours so that you can fulfil your dreams. But I won’t give you my backing when you exploit us to push your career forward.’
