CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Sometimes I feel like I’m the mum in my relationship with my mama, which is ironic because I’m not responsible enough to parent a pet the rest of the time. Pretty sure I’d even be rubbish with goldfish. But when it comes to Mum and me, the days of getting a bollocking for staying out late, or taking too long to thank Auntie Elsie for the hand-knitted socks she sends at Christmas are long gone. Now there’s been a role reversal. I’ll ask Mum to text me when she gets home just so I know she’s safe. I cook dinner for her and Tiger once a month so I can catch up on their relationship. (He gets gold stars every time). And I had to try very hard not to tell her off for gawping at Hot Tom’s dick pics that time we went to the flower show.
Today is no different.
‘Just go for it sweetheart! You’ll be fine!’ She says, pushing a bowl of home-grown strawberries across the legless kitchen table to me.
‘I can’t believe you’re being so blasé, Mum.’
‘Jazzy,it’s all in the past now. You have to let it go. You know, like that one fromFrozen?’
I bite the tip off a strawb and try not to huff. What is life when your own mother tells you to chill outandreferences Disney?
‘Maybe you’re just a bigger person than me.’
‘It has nothing to do with that. You are a wonderful, brave and loyal woman,’ she says, her face suddenly clouding over. ‘What happened with Holly cut you deep, understandably. But darling, just look at you now. You are on the cusp of wonderful things and I think you need to tie up some loose ends before you can truly move forward.’
‘Do you really? Think I’m on the cusp of good things, I mean? Because as far as I can see it, I just quit my job and I can only afford to live in London for another four days maximum on what I have left in the bank.’
Nobody panic. Remember to breathe.
‘Ooh yeah, tell me exactly what happened,’ Mila chimes in. She was already hanging out with my mum when I arrived. She pops a strawberry in her own mouth while I wait for a wave of fear to subside. ‘Linda, you’ve excelled yourself with these, I take it you managed to deal with that aphid problem?’ Mum nods triumphantly and Mila looks very pleased for her. These two are so cute. ‘Did Vomit look like she was going to explode when you quit?’
‘I think she was genuinely shocked. She just stared at me with her mouth open and in the end I turned on my heels and ran. It probably wasn’t the most dignified, looking back, but I can’t tell you how good it felt. I ended up drinking negronis at a new bar near my flat and telling the bartender all about it. He was really sweet and gave me my drinks on the house, so obviously you and I need to go back there all the time. I slept like a baby that nightand the weird thing was that when I woke up the next day, I wasn’t even panicking about what I’d done.’
‘That’s because it was the right decision,’ Mila nods sagely.
‘If I think about it too much I feel a bit sick, but I think you’re right. I’d put up with Violet’s bad behaviour for way too long and every time I thought things were improving, she’d turn back into a bloodsucking monster boss. But even though I feel like I’ve done the right thing, I can’t survive on good vibes alone, can I? How am I going to pay for all the fried chicken we eat as an unknown freelance photographer?’
‘You are a grafter, you’ll be just fine.’
‘It is scary AF. Though in good news I’ve just accepted a week’s worth of work in Dublin, and I’m so focused on turning my side hustle into my main job now.’
Mum beams. ‘You have something lined up already? That’s fantastic!’
I beam back, readjusting the cross of my legs and briefly wondering if Mum will ever put the legs back on her ruddy furniture. ‘I woke up after the awards ceremony with a guy called Frazer on my mind. He’d emailed me about the project – he wants some candid snaps of a new celebrity client of his – and I replied to say yes before I’d even got out of bed. It’s funny to think that I used to wake up with boys on my mind for a whole other reason. I’d wake up in a huge panic because WOOP I was seeing James later but PUKE I didn’t know if he’d approve of the restaurant I’d chosen or the outfit I was wearing. God, I was such a mug.’
’No you weren’t,’ says Mum. ‘You’d convinced yourself that you had to find the perfect man, and I understand why, Jazzy. I think that when your father left us for Holly, you got it stuck in your head that you would never, ever find a man of your own who could dosomething like that. You got so focused on potential boyfriends meeting your very strict criteria that you failed to see they weren’t even good eggs.’
There. She said it. My dad left my mum for my eighteen-year-old best friend. Even now it stings to hear those words out loud. I roll a strawberry around on the table before stopping it with the tip of my finger, picking it up and eating it. Then I look up at Mum. Her grey hair is pinned back with a pretty clip and she has a slick of red lipstick on. She is beautiful. She is everything I want to be when I grow up. Strong. Independent. Proud. Fiercely loyal. Brave. An absolute joy to be around. She’s watching me, her eyes full of love and concern. There’s something else there too, an underlying happiness that is part of the fabric of her being now.
She holds out her hand and takes mine in hers.
‘You know,’ she says. ‘I see your dad sometimes. They live not far from here and we often end up in the supermarket on a Friday together. He remains completely hapless at being able to choose food with a decent sell-by date on it. Last week I saw him putting some chicken into his trolley that was going off that very day! I had a rummage around on the shelf and found him something much more suitable.’
‘Mum, what the eff? Yousee Dad? Why didn’t you tell me? How do you manage not to kill him?’
‘I haven’t mentioned it because until very recently, you’ve shut down any attempt to discuss your father and I didn’t want to hurt you. But lately I’ve seen more of the old Jasmine. . . more strength, more confidence. And I’m convinced that now is the time. Besides, I haven’t killed him because it’s all in the past, darling. Your father is still, essentially, a good man. He didn’t mean to hurt us like he did. He followed his heart, that’s all.’
‘No.That’s NOT all, Mum. He ripped apart my friendship group and our family in one fell swoop. And now you’re helping him buy bloody chicken at the supermarket?’ My ears feel hot.
‘It was tough for us both, but for you in particular. You were strong when I couldn’t be, Jasmine. I will forever be grateful to you for that, you sacrificed so much to be by my side when I was reeling from the shock of his decision. I often think about your plans to study in America and I deeply regret that you didn’t go, but I understand why you did it. You know, I feel happier now than I think I would have if your father and I had stayed together. Tiger is just wonderful and I spend my days teaching yoga or pottering in the garden. I’d probably still be working at that marketing firm if things hadn’t changed with your dad. I honestly think that what happened was for the best in the long run. And look at you, my beautiful girl! You’ve set out on your own, you are doing amazing things with your photography in spite of the fact that you didn’t go to Bede Academy. I am unbelievably proud of you. And now it’s time to deal with what happened face on, so that you can truly move on.’
I rub my head, trying to process what Mum is saying. ‘I think I need a minute.’
Mum has worked wonders on turning my childhood bedroom into a pretty guest room slash study, but if you ask me those boyband posters really did add something to the décor. Now you can see the actual walls whereas when I was here, every inch of wallpaper was covered in posters from magazines.
I close the door behind me and head over to the wooden desk, where Mum is now growing an aloe vera plant (‘great for the air!’) and keeps Tiger’s sewing machine. Without thinking, I gravitate towards the desk drawers and pull out a box. Taking it over to the bed,no longer resplendent with Spice Girls duvet set, I open up the lid. Inside are all the things I didn’t want to throw away when I was clearing out the room. I let my teenage diary fall open on a page written in pink gel pen.
