I hug her, harder and longer than I can ever remember doing so.
She looks faintly surprised, so I release my grip a bit. ‘Dad would have loved the flat, Mum. He’d think it was a very good choice.’
‘I thought that too darling.’ She pauses, looking carefully at my face. ‘Sometimes I keep it to myself, you know, talking about your father. I don’t want to upset you. I know you were his favourite.’ She pauses. ‘And he was yours.’
I don’t – can’t – say anything.
She strokes my cheek. ‘You’re wearing a lot less make-up than usual.’
I nod. It doesn’t feel like a criticism though.
‘Where have you been, Erica?’
‘Time travelling, Mum.’
‘I wouldn’t mind going back in time.’ She laughs and sits down on the edge of the bed with a sort of groaning sigh. The bed hasn’t been made up yet, so it’s just a bare mattress.
‘It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,’ I say. ‘In fact, I think that right here, right now is probably the best place to be.’ And that’s the Fatboy Slim song firmly planted in my head.
She pats the bed next to her. ‘Now, tell me what you’ve been up to.’
I sit down and hold her hand. We’ve not been this close to each other for a long time. Her skin feels so loose, like it’s completely separate from what’s underneath. I stare at it, and notice that my hand looks really young next to hers.
‘I’m having a change of career, Mum. A bit late in the day but…’
‘We’re proud of you whatever you do, Erica. Me and your dad.’
‘Thanks Mum. I know that now.’
Later that day, I’m on the high street, grabbing some Settlers Wind-eze Plus from Boots and a few things from Sainsbury’s to make my cupboards look slightly less bare for Nandy coming to stay. I can see Je Suis Belle up ahead, and the shop unit where FILLINGZ was, and can just make out a different sign over the door. Remembering what Josie said, I get closer to have a look.
What does it say? I can see curly white writing on a wooden sign. It seems pretty stylish, and not in a try-hard ‘hip-hop’ kind of way. Also, thank god it’s not another cafe selling instant coffee and lardy cake. I draw level with it and look up. It says, Brie My Guest. It’s a cheese shop. Glory be.
I can see it’s not quite open yet and there are a couple of men inside fitting fridges and units, and painting. I peer in and one of them turns around. His face is smiling, expectant, genuine.
It’s Gabe.
He sees me, then puts down the drill he’s holding and walks towards the door. He’s wearing a blue t-shirt with paint splatters all over it, and jeans. I notice it’s not just his hands that are freckly, it’s his arms as well. Please don’t let him be angry with me, I think, although he has every right.
We stand in the doorway looking at each other.
‘You’re a sight for sore eyes, Erica Pells.’ I think he’s pleased to see me, but he’s guarded. I notice the hand that was holding the drill is now clenched. No wonder, I suppose; last time we had a conversation, I stormed off.
‘So are you, Gabe Dix.’ I try to sound breezy but here comes the fizzing feeling in my chest, which I know now isn’t my arteries.
‘And what’s this, a cheese shop?’ I say.
‘It is. My very own. When FILLINGZ closed, I saw that as a sign from… I don’t know. Whoever dispenses signs.’
I look past him into the shop and can see a counter and some chalkboards with the names of local cheeses written on them. The walls are a broad bean green, like Gabe’s eyes.
‘You miss out on all the news when you swan off to London.’ He pulls a bit of wood shaving out of his hair. He’s definitely hotter than Gary Barlow.
‘I swanned back. It was very much not what it was cracked up to be.’ I’m trying to read his face. ‘Look, Gabe. I’m really sorry.’
He looks more serious. ‘You should be, Erica.’ I can tell he means it kindly. Well, for the most part.
I smile. Thankfully I’m not wearing that stupid contour that made me look like a Cubist painting, so it doesn’t matter what angle I put my head at. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m keepingup my skincare, obvs. I haven’t had a complete personality change. But I’ve reached an understanding with my beauty products now. They’re just to make me feel better – not change my life. I’m also doing my YouTube workout with that Bethany woman again, with similarly low expectations, and yes, using the doorstops as weights.
