‘Oh, I’m not saying…’
She shrugs. ‘Well, you could do worse.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously.’ She sets the knife down again, the cucumber still waiting to be sliced rolling slightly on the board. ‘We had a little chat when he arrived; did he mention it?’
I colour a little, remembering what I’d heard from the hallway. ‘No,’ I say innocently.
‘Well, he seems to think a lot of you,’ she says. ‘Put me in my place somewhat!’
‘Don’tyouthink a lot of me then?’ I probe.
She sighs. ‘Sarah, you must know I am so immensely proud of you. I realise I’m not the easiest person to… read. But I hope that you know that, at least.’
This isn’t a good time to tell her that I think it’s the first time I’ve believed she might be proud. Instead, I nod. ‘Thanks Mum.’
‘I think he blames me.’
‘For what?’
‘For tearing you two apart after Louis was born. Apparently, I came across as quite the monster!’
‘Well, you had a right to be. I was pregnant at seventeen. I know that must have been hard for you, for Dad.’
She nods. ‘But I think when you’re younger… things appear different, don’t they. It seemed like the end of the world when you told us. And your father and I, we couldn’t have any more children. So we put everything we had into you. All our love, all our money?—’
‘I didn’t ask you to!’
‘Of course not! And I don’t begrudge a penny. But we put all our hopes in you too. And it felt back then as if everything we’d done was?—’
‘A waste?’ I suggest, trying to keep my tone even.
‘No. Not at all. Sarah, I felt as if I’d failed as a mother. Oh, not for moral reasons. I didn’t expect you to be a nun, or save yourself for marriage or anything like that. But I hadn’t protected you. I’d let you down.’
I want to say it was the contraception that let us down, or well, the fact we didn’t take proper precautions, but I don’t think this is the time. ‘It wasn’t your fault, Mum.’
‘Well, you probably know from Louis, but when you’re a parent, everything that goes wrong for your child feels as if it’s somehow your fault.’ She gives a little smile. ‘And if anyone hurts your child, well, heaven help them. So I suppose I may have come across a bit… stern towards Hal.’
I think of how terrified Hal was of Mum back in the day. ‘Well, he’s a big boy. He got over it.’
‘I dare say.’ She sniffs. ‘But I hope I didn’t have anything to do with… I hope that I didn’t make it too difficult for you two to be together.’
I shake my head. Perhaps she had a part to play in Hal’s keenness to head off to uni, his reluctance to spend too much time at the house. But she’s not the villain in this story. ‘I’m sure you didn’t, Mum,’ I say. ‘We were just kids. I think that’s got a lot more to do with it.’
I watch as Louis walks across the grass. He sits on the side of the pool, watching his father do laps. And I ask. ‘Mum, did you have anything to do with the wedding?’
A couple of red patches appear on her neck. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, I know that Louis and Summer were going to have a long engagement. Then suddenly, they came here for a holiday and there’s a wedding happening.’ I look at her. ‘And it made me wonder…’
‘I may have made it easy for them to have the ceremony,’ she admits. ‘But I didn’t push anything on them. I just… I suppose I offered. And they’d found out about Summer. And everything seemed to fall into place.’
‘Still, it’s very?—’
‘Oh, I realise how it might appear,’ she says, her tone a little strained. ‘And I know what you’re probably thinking.’ She exhales sharply. ‘I suppose if I’m honest, well, perhaps I did interfere a bit. Not… not on purpose. Not really. I offered, they accepted and who knows what would have happened if they hadn’t been here. But those two seem very much in love. If you ask me, they do seem ready. Ready as your father and I ever were. Besides?—’
‘Besides what?’
