‘Blame yourself. We mums get enough flack as it is without heaping more on ourselves. Now, you listen to me. You are a fantastic mother. And I am horrified that you think I’d have ever considered you anything else. As for Leo . . . well, he might be the light of my life, but he’s been an idiot. However . . .’
She leans in.
‘I hate to break this to you: you weren’t an easy teenager either.’
‘I never did anything like this,’ I protest.
‘You didplenty. And I’m sure you don’t need me to remind you that you ran off at the age of 22 and got married to a boy we’d hardly even met. Do you think I felt like a “great parent” then? I didn’t do much patting myself on the back after that, I assure you.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘You don’t need to be! The only point I’m making is that you were young. We all do silly things when we’re young – it’s part of life. Leo’s growing up. He’s becoming an adult. But like a lot of teenagers, he’s tripping over his own feet and trying to get there faster than he’s ready. His brain hasn’t quite caught up yet. But it can be horrible for you, I know.’
‘I just feel like he’s out of control sometimes.’
She shakes her head. ‘You just don’t feel likeyouhave any control over him any more. And the truth is: you don’t. The days when he was little and you could just put his shoes on for him if he was playing up are long gone.’
I swallow, look down at my hands.
She looks at him and shakes her head. ‘I’ll be having words with him when he’s sobered up, believe me. But in the meantime, just know that hewillget there, Lisa. One day, you’ll look back on this and it will feel like a distant memory. Look, Leo’s no angel. But there are enough glimmers of light in him for us all to know that he’ll turn out to be a wonderful young man. You’ve just got to hang in there.’
‘I really hope you’re right . . .’
‘I am. Because he’s got you – hisrock. You’re his and I’m yours. Okay? Now come here.’
I stand up as she envelops me in a hug so tight I can hardly breathe for a moment.
She pulls away and looks at me before a smile appears on one corner of her mouth.
‘So what was the maths tutor doing here exactly – teaching you Pythagoras’s theorem?’
‘I—’ I begin to blurt an explanation, then spot the wry smile on her face.
‘He is very handsome,’ she says, for what I can’t help noticing is the second time. ‘How long have you been dating?’
‘We’re notdating. We’re not anything. He’s lovely but he’s going back to the States soon so it can’t go anywhere.’
‘That’s a shame.’
She frowns at my expression. ‘Why do you look so surprised?’
‘Well . . . I assumed you’d disapprove.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Then she stops herself. ‘Maybe I would have . . . a bit. But not about youfinding someone. Not about youbeing happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. I just don’t think you should rush into getting married again. I don’t mind admitting that I think you’ve got appalling taste in men. Generally, at least.’
‘Mum, I can promise you now: I am never, ever, ever getting married again.’
‘Good girl,’ she smiles, patting me on the hand as if I’ve just passed a Grade 3 piano exam. A nurse arrives and announces that she’s here to take Leo’s observations.
‘The doctor has also asked me to give a leaflet to take home about potentially getting help for alcohol addiction,’ she says.
‘That’s all she needs,’ Mum says, rolling her eyes. ‘She already thinks she’s a bad mother as it is.’
‘Course you do, love,’ the nurse deadpans, gesturing to Leo. ‘They make all the mistakes and we get to do all the suffering. Though, to be fair, I think he’ll be doing plenty of that by the time he wakes up. If I were you, I’d just sit him down in the next day or two and have a proper conversation with him aboutthe risks of drinking. If you feel you want to be referred to any support services afterwards, speak to your GP.’
Leo begins to stir.
‘Oh, here is. George Best is awake,’ sighs Mum, as his eyes flutter open to leave an almost comical where-am-I look on his face.
