I go over and pull Mum into a hug. ‘We’ll get through it. How about I make my pizza specials for tea, with something delectably chocolate-y for afters?’
She steps back and looks up at me. ‘Melt-in-the-middle chocolate puddings?’
I nod. ‘With chocolate sauce and whipped cream?’
She smiles. ‘I’ll look forward to that.’
Angel and I make our way back down to the house, and I’m very aware that for thirty years I’ve taken the security of home for granted. Now it feels weirdly wobbly, and I don’t know what to do to get it back.
5
Climbing Rose Cottage, St Aidan, Cornwall
Papering over the cracks
Saturday
When Tia rings me late on Saturday afternoon, I’m kneading pizza dough. She says it’s for a quick catch-up, but I know it’s to check that I’m still on board with Jess’s new job.
‘Promise me you’ll get in touch with our model groom and lock in a sunny day for next week?’ she asks.
‘Leave it with me.’ I end the call and go back to my dough.
Lando suddenly cropping up in St Aidan is spinning me back to the past in the worst way, because for the first few years of Nemmie’s life, the fear of him returning was like a spectre hanging over me. Some women have contented babies and find motherhood easy; for me it was anything but. As a newborn, Nemmie cried around the clock, struggled to feed and put on weight, and once she did feed she had reflux. For the first year of her life, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was failing Nemmie at every turn because I wasn’t able to cope.
As my despair plunged to depths I hadn’t thought possible, I became very aware of how this would look to Lando if he came back– how he’d be completely justified in thinking he could do a better job himself. Faced with the backing of his big-shot family, I’d be too weak to stand up to him, and if it came to court, I wouldn’t have a leg to stand on.
The worry was real enough to cripple me at the time, and it took years of me learning to manage better to fully leave it behind, which is why those memories are still clear enough to make me shiver even now.
I’m always telling Nemmie that the best way to conquer her fears is to face them head-on, and this time I need to take my own advice. No doubt I could put off the shoot with Lando, but do I really want it hanging over me making me feel more of a wimp every day? I’d rather storm the demon head-on, put this hour of filming behind me, and get on with the rest of my life. If luck is with me and we get something on the first take it might even be shorter.
I take a deep breath and tell myself not to overthink it. My thumbs are over the keys and I’m about to tap when Nemmie calls from the sofa.
‘Are you cross because you fell in the water, Mum?’
I’m taken aback. ‘Why would you think that? I love an early morning dip in the sea, especially when it’s spontaneous and entirely unexpected.’
Nemmie wrinkles her nose. ‘Even in a wedding gown?’
I laugh. ‘It’s only like the “swimming in pyjamas” you do for your water skills badges.’
Mum cuts in. ‘Dawn says the dress has come out beautifully.’ There’s a second of hesitation. ‘It’s all around the village. They were asking after Lando too… Had he changed? Did he look well?’
I resist my flinch at hearing his name, ignore that this is taking ‘asking for a friend’ to new lengths, and say it how it was. ‘He looked wet. Otherwise much the same.’ I give a shrug and bring out a line I know will take the heat off me. ‘He was on a boat with a woman.’
‘Really?!’ Mum’s eyebrows shoot up. ‘Anyone we know?’
I sniff. ‘No one I recognised. Ten years on, that’s unsurprising.’
Nemmie turns on me. ‘You’ve got your sad face on again now, Mum! Seriously, what’s wrong?’
I kick myself for being so transparent, and beam at her instead. ‘Is that better? It’s chocolate pudding for dinner, so we should all be happy after that.’
Nemmie, Dale and Zara are already at my elbow. ‘Can we lick the bowl out? Can we crack the eggs?’
I guide them back towards the sofa. ‘Sit back down. We’ll do the pizza toppings first and then I’ll call you when the dough is ready to roll out.’
I step over Angel, who is lying fast asleep as close to my feet as he could get, and slide onto a bar stool behind the kitchen island. Once the singalong restarts on the sofa, I bring out my phone again.
