‘Ah, lovely. Nice views? You said it’s on a loch, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. I’ll send you some pictures.’
‘In the post? All right. Or a postcard, if they have them.’ Her mum sounded pleased. Deb laughed.
‘No, Mum. On your phone. You can view pictures, remember? I showed you?’ Deb had bought Janice a smartphone six months ago, but her mum had been very resistant to learning how to use it. It had taken Deb a month to persuade her to leave it on and not turn it off “when she wasn’t using it” so that she could call Deb in an emergency – or Deb could get a hold of her mum when she needed to.
‘Do, darling. That would be lovely. I’ll try to remember how to view them.’
Deb rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to say “Just tap the screen, Mum,” but even at the age of thirty-eight, she knew she couldn’t get away with any sass with Janice.
‘So, how are you feeling? How were the appointments this week?’ Deb knew that she had to push her mother to talk about her dialysis. Janice never wanted to admit that there was anything wrong with her. Janice was the most stubborn person Deb had ever known – and she’d met some divas in her line of work, organising fancy events.
But, the thing was, Janice was vulnerable, and they both knew it. Janice needed help, not only in being driven to and from her appointments – she had never learned – but around the house, too.
But, Deb had never known how to persuade her mum to accept help. She was absolutely, pathologically incapable of accepting help, apart from in the direst of circumstances when a) she was unconscious or b) there was literally no other option.
‘Oh, you know. The usual,’ Janice tutted. ‘Nothing out of the ordinary. Fine.’
‘Right. And you had your check up with Dr Gupta. How was that?’ Deb knew that Janice wouldn’t volunteer any information without being harassed for it.
‘It was fine. Nothing to report,’ Janice said, airily. ‘So, tell me about this big job! At a castle! That’s exciting.’
‘Mum. Otherwise, I’ll just have to call Dr Gupta.’ Deb tried her best to boss her mum around, but Janice was having none of it.
‘You will not, missy. The doctor-patient relationship is confidential. I’m not batty yet.’
‘I know that, Mum. I just want to know what’s going on.’
‘I’m fine. That’s what’s going on.’ Janice’s voice became a little steelier. ‘Can we change the subject, please? I have to be at that bloody clinic for far too much of my life, as it is. I don’t want to waste my time talking about it when I could be hearing what you’ve been up to.’
Deb sighed. ‘Are you sure you’re okay, though?’
‘Sure, I’m sure. Now. How are things between you and Dan? And then tell me about the castle,’ Janice instructed.
‘Ugh. Not great when it comes to Dan, I’m afraid,’ Deb sighed. ‘I think we’re… on a break? I left it open, I guess, but I haven’t heard from him and I don’t really want to.’ She brought her mum up to date with her argument with Dan, which had started with dirty dishes, and ended up with her realising that Dan didn’t respect or care for her at all.
‘He’s been such a prat.’ Janice was not one to mince words. ‘You know that I’ve never thought he was good enough for you, pumpkin.’
‘I know. But he was nice, in the beginning. Kind,’ Deb said with a sigh.
‘They all are.’ Janice snorted. ‘It doesn’t last.’
Deb had never known her father: according to Janice, he had been a one-night stand who hadn’t even stayed the night. Two months later, she’d realised she was pregnant.I was blessed with a beautiful daughter, Janice would say, if she wasquestioned on the subject.I got his DNA and frankly that was all I needed.
‘Well, I wanted it to,’ Deb replied. ‘Not now, though.’
‘So, you broke up?’ her mum prompted her. ‘Lucky you had this job, I suppose. To give you a bit of space.’
‘Not officially broken up. We’re having some space. But, yes, basically.’
‘Do you know what you’ll do?’ Janice probed. ‘If it was me, I’d be out of there. You deserve better, darling. You’re a catch.’
In fact, Janice had never settled down with a partner since Deb was born. She’d had a boyfriend here and there, but nothing serious. Deb had always wanted her to find someone, but she’d remained fiercely independent. Deb respected that, but, particularly as her mum had got older, she wished that Janice would let someone into her life. Not least, so that the burden of caring for her could be split with someone else. It was hard, being just the two of them. Deb felt utterly responsible for her mum.
‘I’m not sure that I feel like it at the moment, but thanks,’ Deb said. ‘And I can’t have children anymore. So, not really a catch.’
Before her hysterectomy, she actually hadn’t thought much about the fact that having it would mean she wouldn’t be able to have children, after. She had been so focused on ending the horrible symptoms of endometriosis that she insisted that she’d never really wanted to be a mum. It wasn’t in her life plan.
