“That was because she refused to have a speaking role,” Mum explains to Evan, patting my arm proudly. “The stone was a perfect fit for her and she happily sat there holding a big cardboard-cutout circle that she’d colored in gray pen to represent the stone in one hand and the sword in the other.” She beams at me, adding fondly, “Even then, when she was so little, she knew exactly who she was, and she was not a performer. I’ve always admired that about you, Freya.”
I’m taken aback by the sincerity of her tone. Mum is very good at saying what people want to hear, her flamboyant and excessive personality naturally lending itself to expertly crafted, exaggerated compliments, which is why she can easily be the life and soul of a party. But this remark was made quietly and earnestly, without flair or drama.
“Thanks, Mum,” I reply uneasily, taking a sip of champagne.
Adrian looks stunned, too, and with a side glance to me, suddenly engages Evan and Dad in a conversation, turning his back on us slightly, so that we naturally form two new clusters. Mumand I stand awkwardly with one another, not sure who should speak first.
“You look really well, Freya,” Mum says, breaking the ice.
“Thanks. You look nice, too.”
“I’m just so sorry about what happened with the wedding.” She gives an exasperated sigh. “It’s awful and you’ve picked yourself up and carried on and… well, I feel terrible that you had to go through it. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to look after you.”
“That’s kind of you, Mum, but I don’t need looking after.”
She snorts. “Don’t I know that! Oh darling, you never did. You fell over in a playground once, and I ran to pick you up, but do you know what you did? You scrambled to your feet and with this determined little face, you clenched your fists and whispered ‘Walk it off, Freya’ to yourself.”
“No way. Did I?”
“Yes!” She chuckles, smiling at the memory. “It was so sweet. You couldn’t have been more than four years old. You must have heard your dad saying it to you or perhaps someone else using the phrase and you repeated it. We couldn’t stop laughing.” She hesitates and takes a sip of her drink, before continuing. “I think that sort of thing helped me excuse myself.”
I stare at her. “What do you mean?”
She looks down at the ground guiltily. I’ve never seen her like this before, so vulnerable and apologetic with her body language. In fact, she’s never spoken about memories of us as kids or even acknowledged that she simply left us. It’s been all smiles and stories of her new life and how wonderful everything is.
“Look, I want to be a part of your life, Freya. I know I’ve made mistakes, but it would mean the world to me if we could find a way to spend time together. I miss you terribly and I’ve had time to reflect and… well, I wish I’d done things differently.”
I don’t know how to react. I clear my throat and take a sip of my drink.
“I’m not sure this is the time or place to talk about things, Mum.”
“Well, I wanted to use this opportunity to ask you if we could find a time and place,” she says gently. “There’s a lot to say.”
I don’t say anything, but I give a vague nod. She brightens.
“Can I get anyone a top-up?” Dad asks, shuffling over to join us and pretending not to look overly concerned.
“You leave that with me,” Mum insists, replacing her serious expression with a bright, breezy smile. “Champagne all round, eh? I’ll be back pronto!”
She wanders off to get the attention of a waiter, and Dad turns to talk to me, while Evan continues to chat to Adrian about something he’s deeply passionate about. From the snippets I overhear, it sounds like he’s filling him in on carrots, but that can’t be right.
“Nice chat?” Dad asks, raising his eyebrows at me. “It didn’t end in fisticuffs, I’m pleased to see.”
“Fisticuffs? Showing your age there, old man.” I nudge him affectionately. “It was fine. She wants to talk properly at some point.”
“And?”
“And… I didn’t tell her no.”
A wide smile spreads across his face. “That’s excellent news. You’ll be pleased that you did.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” I sigh. “I don’t know, it sounded like she really meant what she was saying, which is new to me.”
“Oh, she means it. As you get older, you realize that when people don’t mean it, they just won’t bother. Too much effort,” he informs me bluntly, before giving me a pointed look. “You also realize that people make mistakes and life doesn’t always go to plan. I have no doubt that you and your brother can repair your relationship with your mum, and there will be happy times ahead. That’s the trick to remember. Even when it doesn’t feellike it, there will always be happy times ahead, so long as you surround yourself with people.”
“The right people, you mean?”
He chuckles. “Not necessarily. The long and the short of it, Freya, is that people are what matter in life. They’ll surprise you, amaze you, disappoint you. It’s all part of the mess. And thank goodness! If we were able to plan everything, we’d never change; we’d never learn or grow. Take ponds, for example. It’s the messy ones that are full of life.”
