The lady smiles and continues her walk, leaving us at a standoff.
‘Will she?’ I say, my brow creasing.
He looks at me, confused. ‘What?’
‘Play tennis again?’
‘Well, why wouldn’t she?’
I take a breath. This could well be none of my business, but at the same time, I feel like it is. They all mean so much to me that it physically hurts. ‘Jackson, your mum isn’t well.’
He looks at me as if I’m mad. ‘You think I don’t know that?’
‘No, I mean, she’s really not well.’ My whole body feels like it’s at breaking point. If saying this out loud is tearing me apart, what the hell must it be doing to Jackson? But him pretending everything is fine is worse, so I keep going. ‘She’s not going to get better.’
‘Why would you say that?’ There’s a crack in his voice. I want to pull him towards me and hold him close, but it’s his turn to step away. ‘She’s going to beat it. You got her to eat today, and she looked really well when I left her.’
‘This isn’t something you beat because you try hard enough.’ I say it as gently as I can. ‘Don’t put that pressure on her.’
‘So what am I supposed do? Give up on her?’ His voice breaks, raw and desperate.
‘That’s not what I meant.’ Instinctively, I reach out for him, but he takes another step away putting even more distance between us. ‘Stop burying your head in the sand over it.’
‘I’m not.’ His voice has hardened. ‘She’s my mum and I know what’s best for her. I can’t believe you’d even suggest I wouldn’t.’
He begins to walk away.
‘Jackson, where are you going? I didn’t mean …’
‘I’ve had enough of this conversation. I’m leaving before I say something I’ll regret.’ And without another word, he strides away from me, so fast that Tippi has to canter lopsidedly to keep alongside him.
Seventeen Years Ago
Fifteen weeks pregnant.
I pull down the dress and try to smooth the black stretchy fabric across the small but noticeable bump in my middle. My hair and make-up are done, but I don’t feel good.
‘Are you OK?’ Reeni’s wearing the little rope bracelet I’d bought for her the other day.
‘I don’t know if I like it now.’ I stand sideways on to the mirror and study my reflection. ‘What do you think?’
Reeni screws up her nose. ‘It’s not what I thought you’d go for.’ She points towards my chest. ‘It doesn’t leave much to the imagination.’
I try to pull up the neckline, but all it does is raise the hem.
‘Come here.’
Reeni comes towards me waving her hand and I think she’s going to help with my cleavage, but instead she reaches around to the back of my neck.
‘You’ve left the label on.’
I shirk my head away. ‘No. I’ve left it on purpose. I thought I’d take it back after the party. It cost a fortune and I’m never going to wear it again.’
‘Good idea, although …’ she fiddles with the label, ‘… it’s attached with a tiny safety pin. We can take it off and put it back later.’
‘Doh.’ I hit my forehead with the palm of my hand.
Reeni takes a step back, label in hand, to take in my whole outfit.
