‘I think they’d love it.’
The excitement in her mother’s tone for an event that was no more than a vague idea was as sobering as it was sad. A reminder of how little her mother needed and how she so loved her family. It also reinforced Ashleigh’s words, how uncomfortable it made her to be the star attraction, and in part the reason she deliberately wanted to sabotage the view their parents had long held about their two daughters.
‘I think so too, and don’t worry about the pub. You have a lot on your plate, Remy, you work so hard.’
It was recognition that warmed her from the inside out, as any compliment from her mum always did; forgiveness, almost, for not taking the raffle ticket that had been handed to her, for not, in their eyes, grabbing it with both hands.
‘Thank you. Love you, Mum.’
‘And I love you, little dove.’
Remy checked the doors and windows were locked and climbed the stairs. Midge was already in bed, reading the sports results on Ceefax.
‘Three–nil, Remy! Three flippin’ nil!’
‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.’ She had no idea of the team or even the sport, but by the look on her husband’s face it was not the result he desired.
‘Can you believe it!’
‘No. No, I really can’t.’ She feigned interest.
‘I sometimes think I’d be better off as their manager. Do you know what I mean?’
‘I do, love.’ She gathered her hair into its curly pineapple and popped it inside the silky scrunchy. ‘Like my mum, but shinier! Did you hear what Bert said?’ She laughed at the audacity of the boy she loved.
‘Did he have his glasses on?’ Midge looked away from his phone.
‘He doesn’t wear glasses!’ She hopped into bed and pulled the duvet over her shoulders; the heating went off at 8 p.m. and she was beginning to feel the chill.
‘Well, maybe he should start.’
‘Very funny.’ She snuggled against his warm body, putting her cold feet on his calves.
‘There is nothing dull about you, my love. You shine brighter than anyone.’
‘You say the nicest things to me.’ She felt the glow of love spreading over her, doing her best in that moment to dilute her fear over having to come clean about taking the exam for Ashleigh, or more specifically for keeping it a secret from him.
‘It’s true, plus, I’m kind of hoping to get lucky and thought that by saying that you might be more receptive.’
Propping her head on her wrist, she studied his handsome face.
‘You know it’s not flattery that puts me in the mood.’
‘Isn’t it?’ He looked a little surprised. ‘It’s just that I’ve read articles in those women’s magazines in the doctors’ surgery, and it seems that a box of chocolates and flattery is a time-old tradition, it’s how to woo a woman.’
‘Hmm, maybe in 1953. For me, it’s unstacking the dishwasher, folding laundry, helping the kids with their homework, things like that. It’s doing chores that I find most alluring.’
‘In that case, I should probably remind you that this week, unasked, I have babysat, cooked supper, cleaned out Morty’scage, and provided a very reliable taxi service. And so if we’re keeping score—’
‘We’re not,’ she interjected. He ignored her.
‘Then I’m actually down on the deal.’ He sighed.
‘Can I just say’ – she spoke as he abandoned his phone and shifted to face her – ‘that you haven’t babysat.’
‘I have! Nearly every day!’
‘No, Midge, it’s not babysitting when they’re your children. It’s just parenthood. It’s what we do. Keeping an eye on the kids that live in our house, the kids we had,ourkids, feeding them, keeping them from harm. It’s almost a prerequisite.’
