‘Sorry. What are you doing, sitting there with your eyes closed?’ she asks.
‘Resting.’
‘Resting?’ she scoffs. ‘I thought you stayed in last night?’
‘I did. What is there? For lunch,’ I add, when she looks confused.
‘Oh. A sandwich? Some soup?’
‘A sandwich, please. I have soup every day at work. Do you want me to make it?’
‘No, no, I think I can just about manage it myself,’ she replies with amusement. ‘Cheese? Chicken?’
‘Cheese is good.’
‘I’ll get on with it.’
‘Thanks,’ I murmur, turning back to my camera. I gently place it down on the bed and reach into the box for the photographs. They’re better than I remembered them, which surprises me. There’s no holding back the regret now. Why did I stop taking pictures? Why?
I’m still sitting there, staring into space, when my mum returns.
‘Lunch is ready.’
‘Okay, cool.’ I look down at the opened box. ‘I’ll be out in a minute.’
‘Leave it there. I’ll sort it later. Come and chat to me.’
I reluctantly get up and leave the room, knowing that I’ll return in a while to pack up my things. I don’t want my mum to touch anything, especially my photographs.
We sit at the small round wooden dinner table to eat.
‘Have you seen much of Jeremy since – you know?’ I ask.
‘Nope. Coward used his key to clear out his stuff when I was at work. I haven’t seen him since.’
‘You’re well out of it,’ I tell her.
She shrugs nonchalantly. ‘I know.’
‘Josh is coming over in a couple of weeks.’
‘Is he?’ She tries to sound disinterested.
‘Would you like me to bring him over here to say hi?’
‘What would I want you to do that for?’
‘I don’t know, I thought you might miss him.’
She laughs. ‘No way. I’m surprised you two stayed in touch.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, he seemed so – and don’t take this the wrong way – but out of your league.’
‘Thanks very much!’ She laughs, which does nothing to lessen my annoyance. ‘Do you think Richard is out of my league too?’ I continue indignantly.
‘No, no, you’re much more of a catch now.’
