She tells me the story briefly, of a guy Milly met at a hostel and spent the night with, before he disappeared and left her with a farewell gift very different from those in the souvenir shops. Milly spent a full day crying. She wanted to come home. But Frankie got her on a train to Amsterdam, made her an appointment and now has brought her to the clinic to be assessed and hopefully get the help she needs.
‘And youcan’ttell her mum,’ Frankie warns. ‘Promise me. I’ve told you in confidence.’
‘Okay.’
‘I’m serious!’
‘So am I,’ I tell her. ‘Frankie. You have my word. And . . . well done for helping Milly.’
‘She’d do the same for me.’
There is an obvious answer to that statement, but I force myself not to say it.
‘So what were you phoning for?’ she continues. ‘Everything all right?’
‘Well, yes. But I’ve got something I need to talk to you about.’
I fill her in on what’s been going on at work as she listens in silence.
‘Wow,’ she says eventually. ‘So . . . you’re seriously thinking about going back to London?’
‘I’ve got no choice but to think about it. It would be a massive move though. I’ve built a whole life here. There’s Mum and Dad, plus Jeff and—’
‘It’s only London, Mum,’ she says, with a little laugh. ‘It’s not like you need inoculations.’
I smile. ‘That’s true. Wouldn’tyoube concerned about leaving Roebury though?’
‘Why would I? I’ll be at uni,’ she points out.
‘Yes, but you’ll want to come home for Christmas and summer holidays. And this is where all your school friends are.’
‘I’m sure Grandma or Jeff or Milly’s parents for that matter wouldn’t mind giving me a room to sleep in every so often.’
I start to chew my lip. ‘Jeff will think it’s a terrible idea.
I know he will.’
‘One less babysitter for him?’ she says, archly.
‘I’d like to think it would be about more than that.’
‘I’m only teasing,’ she says. ‘I know how much he’d miss you. But what doyouthink about it? You always liked living there, didn’t you?’
‘I loved it. But it’s complicated.’
‘Because of me?’
‘Partly, yes.’
‘Listen, Mum,’ she says. ‘I really think you need to get your head around something: you cannot make a decision based on what’s best for me, Uncle Jeff, Grandma or anyone else for that matter.’
‘Oh, it’s not just them. Like I say—’
‘Do you know what I remember most about my childhood?’
I wonder, very briefly, what’s coming next. How much it sucked growing up without a dad? How difficult some aspects of her ADHD must have made life for her? How many timesImust have seemed totally powerless to help?
‘It’s how much youdidfor me,’ she says, finally. ‘Andother people for that matter. I don’t think I ever realised it at the time.’
