I am beginning to get the feeling that Michael regrets his former choices as he is trying to make conversation with me over anything. If he can’t get hold of Poppy when he knows she is in a lecture, he even messages me to see if I have heard from her. He has been acting very strange lately.
‘I think he misses you, Mam,’ says Poppy, confirming my suspicions.
‘Well, he should’ve thought of that a long time ago.’ I throw down the tea towel that I am holding as I realise I have unconsciously scrunched it into a ball.
I am still hurt that he did this after all the years we had together. I would never trust him again, no matter how much he misses me. Leopards never change their spots, and I get the feeling that it wouldn’t be long before he reinvents himself and gets himself another new convertible and abbreviated name. He’ll probably want to be known as ‘M’ if this goes on much longer.
‘Oh and, Mam… Did I see a photo of you in a new top on Facebook? That pink one?’ says Jasmine.
‘Yes, bargain it was.’
‘Can I borrow it tonight? We want to go to that new bar that opened in the Mumbles.’
I have only worn it once, but I suppose it wasn’t expensive, and Jasmine knows I never say no to anything.
‘Okay, but please don’t spill red wine down it or it’ll never come out.’
‘I won’t. Oh, and could you drop us and then pick us up around midnight?’
I had hoped I could watch TV with a glass of wine tonight, but making sure the girls are home safe is my priority, and they know it.
‘Of course I will, my little munchkin.’
‘Thanks, Mam.’
A few hours later, after I have dropped Jasmine and Poppy off at the trendy new bar that someone told them about, I park up and walk along the pier before heading home. As I feel the breeze on my face and look at the views across the Gower that I remember as a child, I think about how much I have always loved coming here. I suppose it has always been my happy place since the days my parents would take me to the arcade before stopping for an ice cream. It’s hard to believe my parents are no longer here, and now my little girls are on nights out drinking shots. Time goes so fast. It seems like only the other day I was here with my parents, building sandcastles; then I got married, then along came Poppy and Jasmine and now it is me walking alone here. It’s not what I ever imagined. It feels like my life has gone round full circle, only this time without my mam and dad. What a shame things can’t stay the same.
I kick at a pebble and wish I could get an ice cream to cheer myself up. Sadly, the ice cream kiosk has already closed. The kiosk is a landmark. I have so many memories whenever I see it. It is where Michael proposed to me all those years ago. We were sharing a vanilla cone when he looked at me and said, ‘Shall we get married, then?’ and that was my romantic proposal. I didn’t mind though. It was the natural thing to do. Our friends were getting married, some had even started having kids. It was what happened in our neighbourhood. Most settled down at this age. It felt as though it was now or never. I was twenty-five and thought we were ready to live the rest of our lives together. Of course, I was wrong. With hindsight, he wasn’t ready to spend the rest of his life with anyone. Perhaps he will always think the grass is greener somewhere else. Who knows what goes through that head of his.
With no partner and no ice cream, I head back home with The Big Apple kiosk behind me.
At home, knowing that I’ll have to return to pick the girls up soon, I flick through the TV channels but can’t concentrate on anything. I give up in the end and message Soraya to see what she’s up to.
Just checking out the apartments. So, we can definitely stay inFranco’s place in Cannes or Gianni’s in Monaco. Which do you think?
Two photos of the sights of Cannes and Monaco follow. I look at the bright lights that sparkle out from the marina views of both properties. I can imagine the impressive yachts bobbing up and down with millionaires on board swigging their champagne. Both places look equally glamorous and tempting. It would be impossible to work out which one is the nicest. Although the nearest apartment to a supermarket would be handy to make sure I don’t have to spend too much. I certainly won’t be able to dine in fancy restaurants like the people on the yachts probably do.
They both look pretty amazing to me.
We’re checking flights and transport arrangements and will let youknow. We’ll just go with whichever’s easier.
Sounds great.
I zoom in for a closer inspection of the photos to see if I can get a close-up of the little blobs that are in fact people on the yachts. I can’t help but wonder what they look like, what they are wearing and what sort of jobs they do. Do they even work if they are sat on a yacht all day?
The one thing that’s certain is they are both stunning resorts. How could anyone ever choose between them? I zoom in as far as possible on my phone and realise I should probably think about buying bifocals with any money I have left before worrying about cash for the holiday, but why bother when you can so easily zoom into things? Mind you, I found myself picking up a magazine recently and trying to zoom in on an article with my hands to have a better look. Unfortunately, Jasmine caught me and gave me a look of sheer disgust. I can still see her face. I am at that stage of my life where I am embarrassing to my own child.
They are never embarrassed by their godmother. Soraya is always cool in their eyes – and mine too, I suppose. She even has the most amazing connections, if the offer of this free accommodation is anything to go by. I daren’t show the girls these photos of the resorts, or they will want to tag along despite me being such an uncool person to hang around with.
For now, though, I am putting my dreams of the French Riviera aside, returning to dependable mam mode in time to collect them from their night out.
Pulling up outside the bar, I see they are already waiting. I feel terrible that I must be a few minutes late after dreaming about the holiday for so long. Anything could have happened to my poor mites out on the street at this time of night.
‘So sorry I’m late, girls.’
‘It’s alright. There was a fight, so we came out early,’ says Poppy.
‘Oh no. Are you okay?’
