I don’t punch him on the shoulder when I go. But I grin at him.
‘I’d better enjoy this hiking or our friendship is over. I’m going to have to buy hiking boots; this is a big investment.’
He stares at me thoughtfully for a moment and I have absolutely no idea what he is thinking. His face is so still but his eyes are searching mine.
‘A totally worthwhile one,’ he says.
As I walk off into the wind and the rain, I’m smiling.
8
Marin
It’s a glorious Friday night. No one is coming over at the weekend, there’s nothing that needs doing, and I’m feeling the joy of knowing I have got my Christmas shopping in the bag nice and early. Or in the basket, as the case may be. Because I never have time to hit the shops (well, sometimes...). I have done most of my Christmas shopping online now before all the good stuff gets snapped up. I have long ago given up the idea of trying to get the perfect present for everyone, because there isn’t a perfect present for everyone. Darling April is always happy with beautiful romantic perfumes. And body lotions from Victoria’s Secret thrill her to bits. Everything from Victoria’s Secret thrills her to bits, even though I feel she’s probably older than the target market. But she loves it in there. All those floors of frilly things destined to make the man in her life fall in love with her all over again. Mum is impossible to shop for, always has been, always will be. I get Dad sweets and a jigsaw and a wonderful book about wildlife, same thing every year and he’s happy. Over the years I have got him all sorts of things for the allotment. But he now has enough trowels and string and gardeners’ hand cream to last him several lifetimes. Dom is getting help with his deposit, which I know he’ll appreciate more than any present. Nate is super tricky to buy for, because he’s so particular about his clothes. However, I refuse to give him gift vouchers. Instead, every year, I buy him one elegant polo shirt from an expensive brand and he seems pleased. Buying for Rachel and Joey is a total joy, because they both do a list for me about two months before Christmas. It’s one of our family traditions. Sort of like a treasure hunt of lovely things, lots of little gifts and one bigger present.
Anyway, the shopping is pretty much done, though it’s anyone’s guess what I’ll be given come Christmas Day.
‘Mum, I’ve done all my homework,’ says Joey hopefully, peering into the kitchen. ‘Can I have a go on the Xbox now?’
‘Allthe homework, honey?’ I say, because Joey has been known to fib a smidge when it comes to his weekend homework. Our plan is to get it done on Friday evening and then he’s free for the weekend.
‘Wait till you’re going to secondary school,’ Rachel likes to tease him sometimes, ‘then you’ll be doing homework all weekend.’
‘I won’t, Mum, will I?’ says Joey, horrified.
‘Oh it’s not that bad,’ I always say, giving Rachel the side eye. ‘And the older you get, the more homework you’re capable of doing,’ I add, which is also fibbing.
‘Will I check your homework journal and tick everything off, sign it?’ I say now.
‘Yeah, sure.’
Once the homework notebook has been checked – I see there’s a note in there that it’s a school photograph day on Monday, and that all the uniforms had better be clean, shiny and the correct colour – I sign the notebook. I give Joey a hug and he belts off to his beloved Xbox.
‘You do know that the next generation of children are going to have bizarrely enlarged thumbs from playing games,’ says Rachel, who has wandered into the kitchen, holding the takeaway menu.
Sometimes we do takeaways on Fridays and I love it, because it means I don’t have to cook. Sheer bliss.
‘You are pretty good with the old thumbs yourself,’ I say, grinning at her. ‘What have you decided? I need to phone the order in now. Dad said he wantedKung-Po chicken.’
‘Oh I don’t know, I was thinking more Thai.’
‘Ah, honey, it’s Chinese this week; we agreed.’
‘I don’t know if I want Chinese,’ she says. ‘Megan and I have been discussing how we have to try lots of different foods to acclimatise ourselves for when we go around the world. And we’re going to spend a lot of time in Thailand. So I just need to be more into the culture and the food.’
‘When you’re in Thailand, you can eat Thai food, but tonight we are getting Chinese. Dad’s picking it up on his way home, he’s not going to two places.’
‘Don’t see why not,’ she grumbles.
Eventually she agrees, chooses a dish and wanders off moodily. I wonder when the difficult teenage years end, because she’s eighteen now, nearly nineteen, and there’s no end in sight.
Louise, Megan’s mother, and I have recently discussed exactly how moody and difficult to live with Rachel and Megan are lately, and we – their mothers – worry about letting two such innocents off on a gap year without us in the background picking up the pieces
‘It might help,’ Louise’s husband, Dave, had said with a hint of bravado, ‘show them a bit of the real world. I mean, we do everything for them.’
‘That’s true,’ Nate had agreed.
Louise and I had stared at them both.
