“You shouldn’t be looking at anything. It's not your phone.”
She smiled, and looked a little too delighted. “I think this is the sweetest thing I've ever seen. You need to put a ring on it and lock this one up.”
“You realise that if you ever heard a man saying that you'd accuse him of being an old fashion sexist pig, especially given that you've always refused to ever get married.” My sister thought she was an out-and-out feminist, when in fact she was just argumentative. I knew from having observed her watching Disney films with Rose that she'd definitely be wooed by a Prince who managed to say the right things and look pretty.
“It doesn't matter right now what I think, what do you think he's telling you in these photos.”
I knew what he was telling me in those photos. The first one was of him standing with his back to the pool, the evening sun behind him, and his hand pointing to his chest. He was grinning goofily, his stubble just a little bit too long, and his T shirt possibly a little bit too tight, not that I was complaining.
The second photo was of him again in exactly the same position, but this time his hands were cupped together to make a heart. His head was slightly tipped back, and his grin was wide.
The last photo was like the first but this time instead of pointing at himself he was pointing at me, or whoever was looking at the photo, so basically yeah, me.
Put together the three photos told me something that I wasn't sure I'd been ready to hear. Seeing it was a different matter. I could look back, check that I wasn't imagining things and study them for any meaning that might not be obvious. But each time I came to the same conclusion: this was about a lot longer than now, and it wasn’t his gestures that told me, it was the look in his eyes. I saw laughter, joy, the giddiness that made him Seph, and love. Every time I looked, I saw the same thing.
“Georgia, why are you still here?”
I sat up. “What?”
“Why haven’t you gotten your baby, packed a bag or two and driven over there?”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t have an answer.
Three hourslater I was in my hire car, Rose strapped into her booster seat and the soundtrack to Frozen blasting through the speakers. She’d been so excited she’d nearly burst when I’d told her we were off to see Seph, although some of that excitement had been down to him being in a castle. He was a prince, after all, or so she thought.
It was exactly a ninety-minute drive, just long enough for me to have given it a second thought before leaving, but not far enough for me to give it a third. Worst case scenario was that I’d misread things and he didn’t want me there after all, in which case I was close enough to turn back round.
It was a hot day, the sort made for lounging by the pool with a tall cool drink of water and a steamy book, but that didn’t matter. I might’ve been in a tin can of a car with a four-year-old who was belting out songs like she was Anna from Frozen, but I was a woman on a mission. Every mile I completed made me a mile closer to Seph, the words I wanted to say bubbling up inside me, waiting to erupt.
“Mummy, why are you driving so fast?”
I hadn’t noticed she’d stopped singing. I turned down the volume on Anna.
“I’m not, sweetie…” I glanced at the speedo. I totally was.
“Then why are you going slower now?”
Why did I have to have an observant child?
“Because I thought you’d want to look at the scenery.”
I kept my eyes on the road, but I couldn’t not notice the narrow look she gave me, where once again, she looked just like my sister.
Liv was clearly spending way too much time with Rose.
My phone rang, the loud tone waking me from the murderous thoughts I was having towards Olivia.
My mother’s name flashed up on the screen. I managed to fumble round for the button to answer, feeling beads of sweat trickle down my back, which were more from my stress rather than the temperature.
“Mum!” I answered wondering whether I should’ve just let it go to voicemail. “We’re about halfway there.”
“Lovely. Are you driving carefully? The police will pick you up for speeding if they’re out and about.”
This was what she’d phoned me for?
“Mummy was driving very fast.” Rose’s voice trilled through the air like fingernails on a chalkboard.
“Mummy was sticking to the speed limit. We’re fine, Mum. All good.”
