There’s an ominous silence.
‘Can I be honest?’ she says. ‘That black dress does nothing for you.’
‘Are you serious? That dress is sartorial perfection. Carla Bruni has one just like it.’
‘Well, I can’t speak for her, but it makes you look like you’ve dedicated your life to religious service and contemplation.’
‘Rose!’
‘I’m sorry!’ she leaps in. ‘Look, everything else in your wardrobe is fabulous. Seriously, I’d love a dress sense like yours. But that particular one . . . it’s not terrible by any means. Butyou’re 47 not 87. You’re still sexy and vibrant. I justcannotallow you to send that gorgeous thing back.’
I sigh and look at it again on the phone. ‘Is this meant to be some sort of tough love?’
‘Exactly!’
‘But it’s so low my bra would show.’
‘You can get bras in all kinds of weird and wonderful shapes these days,’ she argues. ‘Or even just some of those stick-on nipple covers.’
‘Shhhh!’ I hiss, laughing, but mainly concerned that the people on the next table can hear.
It’s only later, after dinner, homework and a text exchange with Jeff about a play date for the kids at the weekend, that I click on my phone. I’m multitasking as usual – simultaneously loading laundry into the washer, as I idly google:
Where can I buy good quality stick-on nipple covers?
I realise my error the moment I hit ‘return’ – but by then it’s too late. A message arrives from Jeff almost immediately.
I don’t know, love – but make sure I’m the first to know when you find out xx
Chapter 29
The following week, after an averagely exasperating morning, I arrive at the station on the day of the awards, buy a coffee and do a good impression of someone who has her shit together. I am booked onto a later train than the rest of the team, unable to join them due to my school drop-offs. Technically, I could have asked Mum to step in – and see for herself exactly how ‘lovely’ Leo is at eight in the morning – but they’re already staying over with my parents tonight so I wasn’t going to push my luck.
Ever since he overheard me telling my mother that he didn’t have what it takes to be a professional rugby player, he’s gone out of his way to be a nightmare. Which he really didn’t need to do because I feel guilty enough as it is. So much so that I phoned his rugby coach to dig into this, to make sure I wasn’t missing something and hadn’t been raising the next star England fly-half, entirely oblivious.
He actually laughed. ‘He’s a lovely lad and dead keen, but I think it’s a question of: don’t give up your day job.’
Clearly, I’m not going to break this to him. I’ve got other priorities after another detention this week. I sometimes feel as if he’s ruining his own future just to spite me, though I can’t be the only one facing this judging by the fact that, when I googled, ‘Why does my teen hate me?’ there was NO shortage of articles on this subject.
Anyway, travelling on this train at least means I can get some work done, instead of making small talk with Andrea, Krishna, various execs from post-production and . . . Zach. Yes, he’scoming. I thought he might be somehow, though confirmation only came when Andrea’s secretary included him on a group email about the hotel she’d booked for the team tonight.
I shuffle along the aisle to find my seat at a coveted reserved table. This is always my favoured position except for one memorable occasion when I was encircled by a stag party on a trip to Newcastle. They were very polite, if a bit noisy, inviting me to join their poker game and even offering me a couple of Jägerbombs. Given it was 9.47am, I declined, adding that I generally stick to gin and tonic for breakfast.
I open my laptop, put on my noise-cancelling headphones and dive straight into my emails, the first of which is from Jacob’s school, with the subject, ‘A gentle reminder for Year 6 parents.’
I open it up with a sense of impending doom.
Dear Parent, this GENTLE REMINDER is for those of you who have not yet sent in the required resources for tomorrow’s art project, when the class will be recreating a scale model of Gaudi’s Park Guell for Spain Day. This is a key date in the school calendar – introduced after our twinning with theEscola Sant Adria de Besoson the outskirts of Barcelona – and we would be grateful for your cooperation. PLEASE ENSURE YOUR CHILD ARRIVES IN SCHOOL TOMORROW WITHALLOF THE FOLLOWING ITEMS:
- A toilet roll
- Six rubber bands (any colour)
- A newspaper (offensive or age-inappropriate pages removed please)
- A large cardboard tube, of approx. 7cm in diameter, used to package potato-based, stackable sharing snacks (i.e. Pringles)
- An empty cereal box (not Crunchy Nut Cornflakes or other nut-based brand please)
