‘Hermother goes there.’
Zoe sighed. One thing she knew for sure, she wasn’t going to breathe a word about the possibility that her dad and Chantal might get married at St Cuthbert’s. Her mum’s mood was on a knife edge as it was, and the last thing Zoe wanted to do was push her over it. She wished she’d had a chance to explain to Alex and Billie that they shouldn’t mention it either. Though she trusted that they’d both have enough insight to know that, she still worried that she ought to have made it absolutely explicit before her mum’s arrival. If she got time and a moment where her mum wasn’t looking, she’d shoot Alex a text to warn him so they’d both be clued up before Zoe took her mum over to meet them later that day.
10
There was no need to be nervous, and yet Zoe’s heart was beating through her shirt, her stomach in knots as she drove her mum up to Hilltop Farm. Whether Cherie liked Alex or not, it wouldn’t make a scrap of difference to Zoe. The real question was what Alex would make of Zoe’s mum. And Billie, when it came down to it.
The irony was, when they arrived at Hilltop and Alex came from the house to greet them as Zoe parked her car, he was clearly more nervous than she was. And seeing how obviously keen he was to make a good impression relaxed Zoe. Everyone was going to try their best – at least it seemed that way. By everyone she meant herself and Alex – she could only hope her mum would play the game too.
‘Mum…’ Zoe turned to her as she unclipped her seat belt. ‘I know you’re going to be annoyed when I say this but would you mind…? Well, could you try not to mention Ritchie?’
‘I presume Alex doesn’t think you’re a vestal virgin.’
‘Of course not, but…well, I just don’t want to think about him, and I don’t want Alex to have to think about him.’
‘Zoe, I’ve really no intention of mentioning him, so I don’t know why you feel the need to warn me of any such thing.’
‘Sorry, you’re right. I’m panicking, I suppose. It means a lot to me that this goes well. I really like Alex, Mum.’
There was no time to wait for a reply because Alex was at the car, smiling as he waited for them to get out.
‘Hello…’ he greeted as Zoe introduced her mum. ‘I’ve heard loads about you. Did you have a good time at Allan Bank?’
‘It was really interesting, wasn’t it, Mum?’ Zoe prompted. ‘And beautiful. The grounds were lovely, even though it was winter.’
‘Yes, very nice,’ Cherie said, moving out of range of the kiss he’d tried to place on her cheek and offering a hand instead. For a second, Alex seemed wrong-footed, but quickly recovered and shook her hand. ‘Zoe’s been telling me all about you too.’
‘All bad, I hope.’
Cherie looked at him sharply. ‘Why would you hope that?’
This time Alex flushed, and Zoe threw him a look of encouragement. ‘Very funny, Mum,’ she said. ‘Alex hasn’t had time to get used to your unique sense of humour yet, so don’t tease him.’
‘I’m not,’ Cherie said.
‘I hope you’re hungry,’ Alex continued, gesturing towards the house. ‘Billie’s cooked.’
‘I’m starving!’ Zoe allowed her mum to go first and then brought up the rear with Alex, reaching to give his hand a squeeze and catching his eye with the briefest smile of reassurance. ‘The room where you could get your own tea and cake was lovely, but I could still eat a horse.’
‘Didn’t you get lunch?’ Alex asked.
‘Café was too expensive,’ Cherie called behind as she marched to the house.
‘What are we having?’ Zoe asked.
‘Lasagne. You did say your mum eats meat, didn’t you?’
‘Yes. As long as it’s not covered in coriander, she’ll eat a muddy car mat. I hope Billie didn’t go to loads of trouble. I’m sure she doesn’t need to be on her feet for hours on end.’
‘She wanted to do it, and I made sure I was around to help so she didn’t overdo it. On the QT of course. The one thing that’s bound to annoy her is knowing I’m trying to look after her.’
‘You’re not wrong about that.’
Halfway down the path, Grizzle came dashing out of the front door, barking, his tail whirring like a plastic beach windmill.
Cherie stepped back, instantly tense. ‘Does he bite?’
‘God no!’ Zoe said, reaching to fuss him as he leaped up to lick her face. ‘He’s like Prince, isn’t he? The dog we had when I was little.’
