‘Mum?’
‘I’ll take a mixed pallet of each, in the first instance, just to try them out, OK? But only grey and white fixtures, yes? And you’re set on the biscuit and oatmeal colourways for the first show flat, yes? Not the winter white and cranberry?’
What was happening? Her mum was working? Just like any other Friday?
‘All right, I defer to your expertise, Valerie. See you tonight. We’ll have a toast to our success, yes? Good, good.’ She hung up the call and gulped her coffee just as she always did, turning for the kitchen table and lifting a bundle of papers and brochures, before stuffing them in her oversized handbag.
‘Mum?’ Peaches stood frozen to the spot. She’d seen a movie like this where the guy was dead, only he didn’t know it, and everything around him went on like normal, and he was just… frozen out.
Carenza whipped open a mirrored make-up compact, reapplying red lipstick.
‘I’m heading out,’ she said at last, snapping the case closed. ‘It’s my May Day event today.’ As if Peaches wasn’t already aware of it.
‘OK. Do you… want me to make you some lunch and bring it to the?—’
‘See you at six.’ Carenza cut her off. She was tying a silk neck square into an elegant knot, not meeting her daughter’s eyes even for a second.
‘I’ll wash this…’ Peaches reached for the coffee cup with her mother’s red kiss on the rim, but Carenza beat her to it, conveying it to the dishwasher with clipped efficiency.
‘Mum, are we going to talk about last night, or…?’ Her knees were shaking. Leaning a hand on the table didn’t help. She’d expected a lecture on irresponsibility and gratitude. She’dhopedfor a telling off and a pointed fingernail wagging in front of her nose. This was worse. This wasn’t even a sulk or the familiar cold shoulder. Carenza was way past petulance. This was icy civility at its coldest, not something she’d experienced before.
Carenza had her keys in her hand and was leaving.
‘Mum, where are you off to so early? I can show you the showcase photos I took, if you like?’ She quailed at the memory of all the sidecar selfies it’d be impossible to avoid her mother seeing as she scrolled. Her with the prosecco bottle to her mouth. Euan up above her riding the motorbike, one arm thrown above his head, his leathers lifted off the seat, a triumphant yell on his lips. ‘Freedom!’ they’d shouted, like Braveheart.
‘I’m going to collect the elders’ votes from the oak tree,’ Carenza said as she left the room.
Peaches followed after her, stopping at the top of the landing and watching her descend the stairs as elegantly as ever, only stiffer. Not just her usual chilly smile, but an arctic frost set on her face.
Desperate, needing some sign that this wasn’t how things were going to be from now on, she skipped down the stairs in her mum’s wake.
When she was Hamish Skelton’s sweetheart, her mum had sulked and complained for months, and that had been bad enough. How long would it take an unprecedented hoar frost like this one to melt?
Carenza pulled a spotlessly clean Hunter welly bag from the boot room beside the front door. She had her hand on the latch now.
‘Are you not even saying goodbye?’ It was bold of her, Peaches knew. Rude, too. She’d never, ever spoken out of turn to this woman.
Carenza’s neck stiffened. It would have been barely perceptible to anyone else, but to Peaches she felt like she was about to turn to salt on the bottom step.
‘You’ve been with that boy all night?’ Carenza addressed the door, refusing to look at her daughter. ‘The electrician?’
‘Yes. Nothing happened. We talked. We fell asleep. It was all perfectly innocent.’ Why was she explaining herself? She was twenty-three. She paid her way with her work at her mum’s office. And yet she could still hear the scolding she’d had as a teenager when she’d been forced to break up with Hamish.You live under my roof, you live by my rules. Perhaps she’d had a point back then, but now? Why hadn’t things moved on? Why couldn’t she set some boundaries of her own?
Her mother turned her face so Peaches could see her mouth moving in partial profile. ‘I have a million things to do before tonight. Do you at least intend to keep to your side of the bargain?’
‘Huh?’ Peaches had no idea what she meant.
‘Felton Cromarty?’
‘Oh, that!’ Her heart fell down to her stomach. ‘I…’
‘You can’t let the poor boy down just because you’ve stopped out all night?—’
‘I said I’d go with Felton, so I will.’ She had to cut her mother off in case this descended into something much worse.
Carenza turned to face her with widening eyes. She wasn’t used to being spoken to like this.
‘I’m looking forward to it,’ Peaches added, even trying for a smile.
