‘You still are a mum,’ he said, surprised, but she shook her head.
‘It doesn’t feel like that. Jenna and I – we’re not really speaking at the moment. Things are… difficult.’
He sighed. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Thanks.’ She wiped her cheek and straightened, embarrassed that she’d revealed the truth about her relationship with her daughter. He’d only just found out she was a diabetic with a junk food habit, thanks to her parents! ‘Truth is, we’ve all been invited to my cousin’s for his daughter’s birthday party on the fourteenth of March – Jenna and the twins included – but I don’t know whether to tell them.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Why wouldn’t you?’
‘It could be awkward,’ she mumbled, not wanting to go into all the details about Joel and the horrible things that had been said about her.
‘Would you like to see Jenna?’ he asked. ‘And the twins?’
She hesitated. ‘It’s not as simple as that.’
‘Well, obviously I don’t know all the details, but it seems to me that if you’re standing in the middle of a supermarket in tears because you miss your family, and you have the perfect excuse to get in touch with them, then maybe it’s simpler than you realise. What’s the worst that could happen?’
He was right, she realised. Even if Jenna hung up on her, or said no, at least there’d be contact. At least she could say she’d tried. At least there was a chance…
She gave him a watery smile. ‘Thanks. I’ll call her when I get home.’
‘Make sure you do.’ He hitched up the basket. ‘Well, I’d better get on and finish my shopping. See you around, Alison. Good luck.’
‘Ian! I mean, Mac!’
Alison inwardly groaned as her parents hurried towards them, her dad carrying a jar of curry sauce and a packet of chicken breasts in his arms, her mam waving her plaster-encased arm in the air like a white flag.
‘I’m glad you haven’t gone yet, Mac,’ her mam said, rather breathlessly. ‘It occurred to me as we were looking at the chicken breasts and we realised it was much cheaper to buy the bigger pack?—’
‘How is that possible?’ Alison asked doubtfully.
‘Well, better value then! Anyway, it occurred to us that there’s going to be far too much for two of us, so we wondered if you would like to come for tea at ours tomorrow? And you, Alison, naturally. I’d ask our Rosie but she’s working at the chippy tomorrow again, isn’t she?’
‘Yes, but I don’t think—’ Alison began, but her mam tutted impatiently.
‘Oh, I know. You’rediabetic. Don’t worry, we won’t give you any rice. I’ve got some lovely salad reduced to clear in the trolley, so you can have that with it.’
‘How delightful,’ Alison murmured. ‘Can’t wait.’
She tried to communicate with Mac by giving him a look of sympathy and mentally telling him that he really didn’t have to say yes, and no one would blame him in the slightest.
‘He probably takes after his mother,’ Dad said. ‘It’s all right, lad. Not everyone’s sociable, are they?’
Alison was pretty sure the horror she was feeling showed on her face, because Mac was clearly struggling not to laugh when he looked at her.
‘It’s really kind of you,’ he said at last. ‘I’d be delighted.’
‘Smashing!’ Mam beamed at him. ‘Shall we say five o’clock? We don’t like to eat too late, on account of Stan’s heartburn, especially if he’s insisting on having a curry for some reason.’
Mac nodded. ‘Five it is.’
‘Cherry, will we need some mushrooms?’ Dad asked suddenly.
His wife clapped her hand to her head and groaned. ‘We will! Come on, Stan. Back to the reduced-to-clear section.’
They hurried off and Alison shook her head. ‘They’re absolutely nuts, the pair of them.’
‘They’re lovely,’ Mac said softly. ‘You’re very lucky to have them.’ He reached out and touched her lightly on the arm. ‘Call your daughter, Alison. You have such a nice family. Don’t let it fall apart, whatever you do.’
