Once they all ate everything – now, mealtimes are a battleground of ‘I hate this!’ or ‘I told you last week, I don’t like this anymore.’
‘Where’s Lexi?’ I say.
‘Gone upstairs to her room with her phone,’ Angela says. ‘She’s been stuck on it all afternoon, even though I only allow her to have it for half an hour after she has done her homework.’
‘It’s along-running battle,’ I say lightly, knowing exactly what she’s looking up. ‘They’ll probably have phones implanted in their heads by the time they’re in their twenties.’
After hugging Liam and admiring his pictures some more, I put Teddy down and run upstairs to pull on some sweats and find Lexi. Anglea will be going in five minutes, I want to be ready to take over properly.
Lexi’s door is locked and I knock on it, as per the most recent instructions.
‘Yeah,’ she shouts.
‘It’s Mum,’ I say.
‘Come in, come in.’ She’s sitting on the bed and I see she’s wearing some of themake-up she got last Christmas. She begged and begged, so I said, ‘All right, but only on special occasions.’
Somehow, and I don’t know how, she’s managed to turn a couple of pastel colours into something much heavier; did she add water? I’ve had my photograph done professionally enough times to know that you can do anything with the right tools, the right sort of application, but how did Lexi learn how to do this?
‘Mum,’ she said. ‘You’re not going to believe this, sit down.’
I sit down. I won’t mention themake-up now, I decide; maybe at the weekend we’ll have a talk about it. I think how I can bring it up and explain that she’s got to stay young, because racing to grow up isn’t as much fun as you think and ...
‘Elisa is all over the internet,’ she says dramatically. ‘It’s so exciting. There is going to be a big launch next week for the Surella brand and she’s going to be here. I can’t wait. Her Instagram shots – look at them, look, look, look.’
I lean over, feeling sick.
Elisa’s Instagram feed, which I admit to following myself, just to see what she’s up to, is normallywall-to-wall pouting selfies with her by pools, sipping cocktails and gazing at the world through mirrored aviator sunglasses. Sometimes she’s pictured ‘out with the girls’, a gaggle of women who seem to want to show the world how much cleavage you can get if you use one of thosepush-up bras or have had surgery performed by surgeons for whom nocup-size increase is too big.
None of the ‘girls’ appear to have any actual jobs, from all thepool-and-party shots I see.
But today’s uploaded post is different, the amateur selfies replaced withprofessional-looking shots of her advertising Surella.
Elisa still looks like her spoilt brattish self (my opinion) and the 747 nose is still huge (also, clearly my opinion) but there is professionalism behind them. Lancôme it ain’t, but she’s clearly promoting a brand and they have proper shots of her.
‘Mum, I WhatsApped her, and she replied,’ said Lexi with the breathlessness of pure joy.
This cannot be happening. Not now. It’s toosoon.
‘She replied?’ I say, attempting to get normality into my voice.
Elisa rarely replies when Dan – with me watching over his shoulder like an angry parrot – contacts her before Christmas to see if she will be joining us and her mother to meet Lexi.
If she does deign to tap her gel nails over the phone keys, it’s generally ‘No, in Dubai, but Happy Christmas! Love, love, kiss, kiss.’
The sort of thing you’d say to any fan and not to a person she used to be married to, with whom she bore a child.
Still incandescent with joy, Lexi shows me the message.
Love to see you soon, hun, kiss, kiss, love, love. I’ll talk to Dad.
My heart sinks.Dad.Dad as in Dan, as in bloody Elisa has a plan to talk to Dan about seeingmyLexi. Suddenly I wish I had that photographer there again, so I could hit him very hard with his bloody camera. Someone needs to take some of this anger.
‘Isn’t it wonderful, Mum?’ said Lexi.
I hug her in close to me and do my best to keep the mingled fear and anger flattened down. I’m her mother: I can’t let her know how I really feel.
‘Yes darling, wonderful. You’ll hear all about the newmake-up now. So tell me, sweetie, how was your day at school?’
