‘That’s not…’ I shake my head and close my eyes briefly. ‘That’s not what happened. Not really. She was just a young girl; she was scared and…’ I’m struggling to find the words to defend her, but I carry on. ‘It was never about you. It was about facing the responsibility of having a child – that’s what she ran away from.’ Like a coward.
‘Can you… can you come?’ Her voice is barely there, and I have to take a moment to make sure I heard her correctly.
‘Today?’
‘Yes. I mean, you don’t have to sit with us or anything… I would just… If it all goes bad? I’d just feel better knowing I could come to you.’
‘I don’t know, George. Have you asked your dad?’
‘No. I… No.’
‘George…’
‘Forget it. It was silly. I?—’
‘It’s not silly. Look, how about I speak to Spence, and see if he minds me being there? I could wait outside and if it’s all going well you can send me a text or something?’
‘Would you?’ The relief in her voice has me smiling.
I look at the clock. I have time. Just.
‘Can you put your dad on the phone?’
I speak briefly to Spence, explain the situation and we agree that I will stay in the car outside until she feels comfortable.
* * *
The cafe Heather has chosen is popular. Smart. Trendy. All oak and brass fittings. Not too impressive, not too cheap. A Goldilocks of cafes.
My chest is tight as I pull up. I’m across the road, the window just in sight. I spot Heather straight away.
God.
She looks just the same. Slim. Tall. Blonde. Perfectly made up. That doesn’t bother me, but what is pushing against my ribcage is the fact that I can see how much Georgia looks like her: same long neck, same chin. She fidgets with a glass of water. Straightens the cutlery. Then stands, smoothing her jeans down. My hands tighten around the steering wheel as I watch Spence and Georgia approach. Spence doesn’t kiss her cheeks, or hug her – much to my relief – but the smile is genuine. Georgia’s eyes are fixed on the floor. The large headphones that I bought her for Christmas are slung around her neck. She sits down, not looking at her mum, her eyes darting towards my car. I give her a small smile, even though I’m fairly sure she won’t be able to see me properly.
It takes a while for Georgia to look up. Heather leans forward, just the right amount. Not too pushy. Not defensive. There is no sign of the girl I once sat behind in class. The girl who always wanted to be the centre of attention. My focus moves towards Spence. He’s nervous. I can tell in the way he flattens the front of his hair with his palm, the way he’s adjusting his seat. He doesn’t look my way once.
Heather tucks her hair behind her ear, and I don’t think Georgia realises she copies the action. Heather says something and a slow smile creeps across Georgia’s face. I can’t quite see from here, but if I had to guess, I’d say she was blushing. Then she laughs.
I want to feel angry. I want to storm into the cafe and pull them both away from the woman who destroyed my best friend, who would always be in the shadows of her daughter’s birthday. I never missed the way that Georgia would check the mail, the small hope lingering that maybe this year, she’d get a card from her mother. But as I sit here…
My phone buzzes. I look down.
All good. G. xxx
I blink away the tears that are stinging at the back of my throat and type a quick reply.
Do you want me to stay a bit longer?
Dots appear as Georgia types.
No. She’s nice. Thxs though x
I rub at the sudden sharp pain in my sternum, give the three of them one last look, turn the ignition, and make my way home.
* * *
I’m focusing on packing. Tomorrow is a big day. Tomorrow I will meet Michael. I need to be ready. I push away the image of the three of them laughing and ordering food from my mind as I sort through my underwear drawer.
