Mum wants to know why I stole that god-awful Christmas candle.
It’s him and my butterflies are doing backflips of joy!
I’m not surprised. She’s probably scared you’ve turned to crime.
She would have been the one that indoctrinated me into a life of criminality. But considering her recent behaviour and the fact I am now too scared to go back to Cabot’s Circus I think that’s unlikely.
A laugh springs from my lips. He’d been so funny when he was recounting that story back to me this week. It had made mereallylike his mum.
That somewhat upsets my next Christmas elf plans. I was hoping you’d help me hold up Santa’s grotto at the garden centre. He’s charging twenty pounds per child. I thought we could be like the Robin Hood of Christmas, stuff him in a sack and dole out the presents for free.
For God’s sake don’t tell Mum. She’ll make you upscale it to all the overpriced grottos in the nation and then drive around the country righting wrongs through crime.
Aha, I knew she’d be more willing than her lily-livered son.
Rude! Anyway, what I’m trying to ask is that if you can promise not to corrupt my mother any further than she already is, would you like to come to lunch tomorrow? If you don’t have plans of course.
Would I like to come to lunch tomorrow? The only plans I have this weekend are to rest after this mammoth week, and today has been a full day of lying on the sofa watching Hallmark Christmas movies and eating mince pies. I’m fully rested now. Would I like to meet his mum and step-dad? I know I should really try and avoid Rory until I have this crush under control and can manage it well enough not to embarrass him in any way but would I like to see the woman who has managed to successfully bring up a son who is a complete gentleman at all times?
Um … yes!
Of course I want to meet her. How can I answer so it’s not overtly effusive? As I’m taking far too long pondering, I see the dots appear indicating he’s typing another message, then nothing. The dots appear again and then again stop. What is he trying to say but keeps changing his mind about?
I realise I haven’t answered yet. What amIgoing to say?
Yes, please.
Succinct and to the point. I know I should stay at home but I won’t be missing tomorrow for the world.
How far that little candle throws his beams
So shines a good deed in a naughty world!
December Twentieth.
Belle.
It’s clear and dry and sort of sunny this morning. I’ve checked the forecast and put a great deal of thought into my outfit for today. I want respectable, respectful and me all in one.
I think I have it down. I have a little patterned dress that just skims above the knee and if you look really closely you can see that the pattern is dancing reindeer. Luisa bought it for me a couple of Christmases ago when I had fallen so deeply in love with it that I had flopped around town sighing with desire for weeks. It is my absolute favourite dress ever. And it makes my eyes pop. Or so Chardonnay said once.
I never thought I would want my eyes to pop, it always sounds messy rather than a good thing, but maybe today is the day. I even spent time last night learning an eye make-up tutorial on YouTube. Three hours I practised and I still can’t do it. No matter how hard I try I still look as if I’ve been attacked by an angry chimney sweep.
Luckily Hope House hadn’t been very busy this morning and Ariana did my make-up for me once I finished cleaning. I’ve been almost too scared to move my face since. Getting the dress on without smudging any once I was home was not an easy thing. But I’m happy with the result. If Chardonnay were here she would be proud. She might not recognise me but she would be proud.
I team the dress with my only decent leather boots, a present from my mum a couple of years ago that are beginning to border on tatty. But after work I shined them as my Nana had taught me as a child and I have to admit they look ten times better than they did. I should have done that aeons ago.
I have a spare outfit on the bed, a little bit more casual should Rory look at me as if I’ve gone overboard when he arrives. I know I should just be comfortable being me but it’s hard to break down three decades of feeling inadequate overnight and besides I don’t want to let Rory down.
I hear Rory’s car pull up outside and my breath starts to speed up. This is ridiculous. Then the doorbell rings and my heart starts pounding. Oh My God! I’m going to meet Rory’s mother.
Rory.
Oh my God, Belle is going to meet Mum! And I don’t really know what to do about it. I should have said no the minute Mum asked, not even indulged the thought of it. But the woman is having surgery tomorrow. Surgery for cancer. And if meeting a friend from uni that I happen to be spending a bit of time with is going to help her relax and enjoy today rather than panicking about tomorrow then obviously ‘no you can’t’ isn’t a choice.
I stand in front of Belle’s front door and ring the bell. I should probably warn her that my mum is going to be all sorts of crazy. She seems to have got the completely wrong idea about Belle and me and is swooping around the house humming ‘Love is in the Air’ and dusting. Belle will be chill, I know she will. If anyone understands how family can occasionally be a little bit nutty, it’s her.
I hear Belle buzz me in and I start to rehearse my speech as I climb the stairs to her flat. ‘My mum may have got the wrong end of the stick and I don’t want you to feel—’
