‘—I’ve not been in touch sooner.’
My heart stops plummeting but now is unsure whether it should continue on a downward trajectory or return to its designated spot in my chest. So it just hovers around my lower lungs, making it feel sort of hard to breathe.
‘Things have been so busy at the magazine. We had a big advertiser come in with a last-minute campaign and in this economy that’s not the kind of thing you can say no to, so we basically had to replan the full edition and move everything about. Cuts had to be made.’
And off my heart goes again, plummeting downwards. But still, at least, this wouldn’t be my fault. It wouldn’t be because my article was rubbish. It was just that they had to rejig everything and advertising revenue has to come first. I know this. I’m not stupid.
‘Rebecca,’ Grace says, cutting into my thoughts. ‘So what do you think?’
Shit, is what I think, primarily. I wasn’t expecting to have to give feedback on being sacrificed to the gods of capitalism.
‘Well, I suppose. I understand. I know how tough the landscape is for print media at the minute.’ I swallow the lump in my throat, sending it downwards towards my heart, which is now no doubt sliding past my kneecaps.
‘Sorry. You’ve lost me there,’ Grace says. ‘I asked did you think the girls would be happy to get photos done. Properly. I know you sent the ones from the trip, but I think it would really top the article off nicely to have a good, professional shot of you all.’
Now it’s my turn to wonder if I have slipped off into some alternate universe. ‘Wait… you want a picture? For the article? You like the article?’
‘Are you okay, Becca?’ Grace asks, but I can tell by the tone of her voice that she is smiling. ‘You heard me when I said I loved it, didn’t you?’
As my heart does an emergency stop and starts to soar, I decide honesty is the best policy. ‘To be honest, my brain shut down when you said you’d had to make cuts and I just assumed…’
‘God, no!’ Grace says and laughs. ‘You poor thing. You need to have more confidence in your ability, girl! I loved it. It is exactly the kind of thing I wanted to appeal to our slightly older demographic, provide a fresh voice and something different. Honestly, I think I’m convinced on wanting to go on this retreat the next time it rolls around.’
I listen in surprise as she heaps praise on my shoulders, and yes, I might be crying now but they’re happy tears. Honestly. I hastily wipe them away because I don’t want the customers in the café to peek out the window and see ‘the mad woman’ making a show of herself for the third time.
‘What I didn’t want was a straightforward advertorial-style breakdown of the retreat that sounded as if we’d been paid to only say nice things but not in a genuine way. That doesn’t sell magazines, or get us online clicks. What works is fresh, funny and, most of all, with heart. This has so much heart.’
‘Thank you,’ I stutter. ‘That means so much.’
‘Good! It should. But back to my point – do you think your friends will be up for getting their photo taken?’
I look through the café window to where both Niamh and Laura are staring at me and making thumbs up and thumbs down gestures in a bid to get me to let them know how this conversation is going. I raise my free thumb and grin and watch as they erupt into spontaneous applause. It seems we really are, all of us, dead set on making a huge impression in the café today.
‘Yes,’ I tell Grace. ‘I think they will.’
‘Perfect!’ Grace trills. ‘So look, if you can speak to your people and let me know a day and time that suits for a photo then we’ll get that taken. The bad news, because there is always bad news, is that our deadlines are even tighter now, so if we can make it happen on Tuesday or Wednesday of next week, that would be ideal.’
‘I’ll see what I can do. I’m sure I’ll sort it out,’ I say, now smiling ridiculously widely. ‘I’m sure it won’t be a problem.’
‘Thanks, Rebecca. And well done!’ Grace says, before she hangs up and I am left standing in the front garden of the Green Cat Bakery doing my own little happy dance – much to the amusement of the departing customers.
‘I’m sorry,’ I call. ‘I’m just really, really happy.’
They smile back, but scurry on anyway.
43
LEAVING ON A JET PLANE
I don’t think I will ever find it easy to say goodbye to either of the boys as they head back to England. But it’s particularly hard to say goodbye to Adam today. It feels as if we’ve been on this huge mother–son journey these past couple of weeks. We’ve become even closer. I’ve become even more protective. I’ve seen him in a whole new light and, my God, he shines brightly.
It’s nice though that Saul will be waiting for him – and has absolutely vowed to be less of a disaster zone this term. It’s true that life is often more chaotic with Saul in it, but it can also be much more fun. Adam needs a little fun now. Even though I’m proud of how he is shouldering his responsibility, I do want him to remember that he’s only nineteen and there is a whole lot of living still to be done out there and so much fun to be had.
Adam and Jodie are in the back seat of my car, holding hands. They look suitably loved up in the unselfconscious way that the young can get away with. Niamh is in the front with me and I know she is checking them out in the rearview mirror almost as much as I am. The plan is to drop Adam at the airport, then Niamh and I will bring Jodie to her university accommodation in Belfast. I know Niamh is on her nerves about letting her pregnant daughter out of her sight. This will not be easy for her.
I’m going to be there for Niamh more, I vow. God knows she has been there for me more times than I care to mention over the years. With her larger-than-life personality it has been easy to miss the times when she is struggling a little, and while she is getting help now, this is not a quick fix. She has a lot of big questions to ask herself – not least about her career. She has admitted that’s probably been at the core of her struggles – that no longer loving the career she had been so focused on had made her feel untethered and lost. With the onset of menopause, she had simply spiralled, worrying so much about what she could lose that she could not enjoy what she has.
That she has even admitted that, and spoken to Paul and her kids about it, is a huge step. But there are so many more steps to go – the first of which will be leaving Jodie in her halls of residence and driving back to Derry without her.
