‘No—’
‘Just what I thought!’
I was going to say that I didn’t talk to Dad that way because he and I hardly ever talk on the phone, but she didn’t let me get it out, and I can’t be bothered to correct her now because she’s on a roll. It won’t matter what I say.
‘I don’t get it!’ she says testily. ‘Even though he abandoned us to go off withthatwoman, you still prefer him to me.’
‘That’s not true, Mum. I—’
‘I don’t understand why you worship that man so much, why you’ve always been so desperate for his approval.’
She may have a point there – about wanting his approval, anyway. However, that’s hardly the point at the moment. I take a deep breath and attempt to respond calmly. ‘I don’t prefer him to you, Mum. I love you both.’
My mother makes a dismissive noise. Of course that’s not good enough. Sometimes, I think she’d only be happy if I said I hated him as much as she does, but that wouldn’t be true either. I don’t think she hates him. I think she still loves him. I think she still pines for him and this is what fuels her frustration and anger.
‘Well, I’ve hardly seen anything of you in the last year.’
‘Mum, you know why that is.’
‘Why?’ she says, sounding genuinely bamboozled, and I roll my eyes. ‘Oh … You mean the wedding reception. Well, yes … I know that was … unfortunate.’ I didn’t speak to her for four months after the wedding. She’s lucky I’ve been in contact as much as I have. ‘But you have to understand what a hard day it was for me, your father waltzing in withthatwoman … ’
Sometimes, I think, when she’s on one of her drunken rants, she forgets that Lola was nowhere in the picture when Dad left, and that she wasn’t the one who had the affair with him.
‘If there’s anyone to blame for my state that day,’ she continues, ‘it was him. And you didn’t help matters, did you?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘You made me look stupid.’
‘Imade you look stupid?’
‘Yes. You gave me those flowers after singing the praises of Luke’s mum and …her… and made it obvious to everyone I hadn’t done as much.’
My blood begins to lightly simmer.Only because you got drunk and missed my dress fitting. Only because you’d rather spend your timeand money on booze than doing anything to help Luke and me for our wedding.
‘It’s no wonder I ended up doing something foolish … I was just trying to feel good about myself.’
What? She’s making this my fault? My blood reaches a hard boil. ‘You know what, Mum? You’re right. I don’t actually want to speak to you at the moment.’ And I jab my thumb over the red ‘end call’ button, receiving a triumphant rush of endorphins as I do so, even though I’ll probably regret it later.
Luke arrives back carrying a large paper bag full of Chinese food, a bag of prawn crackers and a bonus bottle of cola. He dumps all of them down on the counter as I scurry around getting plates and serving spoons. I’m just peeling the plastic lid of a tub of chow mein when he comes up behind me, puts his hands on my arms and kisses the side of my head. ‘You okay? You look tense.’
I sigh. I could tell him all about the call I’ve just had but it’s nothing new, and I’m not sure I can be bothered to drag it all up again. Besides, Luke is always full of advice about how I should handle my family but I don’t want to get into a back and forth about why I don’t think his suggestions would work, and I don’t want to let a conversation about my unhinged mother ruin our evening. ‘I’m fine. Just a bit tired.’
‘You sure?’
I nod and start popping spoons in the different containers. ‘Sure. Now why don’t we eat this while it’s hot, and decide what film we want to watch?’
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
JESS
We settle down with our takeaway and a cheap bottle of fizz to watch a film. It’s a new release I hadn’t heard of at the time calledMrs Wonderful.Since that night, it’s become a bit of a comfort watch for us. It’s a slightly quirky, retro-influenced mystery about a 1950s housewife called Jessica Martingale, whose best friend goes missing and she begins investigating her disappearance, all the while trying to keep her sleuthing a secret from her husband. He adores her but they’re both trapped by the societal norms of the time – his role is breadwinner and hers is to look pretty, keep the house clean, and have his dinner ready on the table when he comes in from work at the end of the day. Of course, eventually she bites off more than she can chew, and her double life is revealed, causing all sorts of problems.
I glance across at Luke, shovelling noodles into his mouth as he’s transfixed by the willowy brunette on screen in her full-skirted dress with the cinched-in waist, eyeliner and red lipstick. She’s as delicious as the chocolate chip cookies she’s pulling out of the oven to cool.
‘Yousohave a crush on Anna Roberts,’ I tease, knowing healways perks up when this particular actress is in something we watch. For years he denied it but one time I actually got him to admit it.
Luke keeps his eyes on his plate. ‘She’s okay.’ But he’s smiling, so I give him a playful punch on the arm.
