There was an ominous silence broken only by a confused woof from Orinoco and then the scrape of Joe’s chair as he pushed back from the table and came to join me by the sink. He put his arms around my waist and rested his chin on the top of my head. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, his voice muffled in my hair. ‘I didn’t mean that. I know you’re worried about her, but I honestly think she’s okay. I think…’ He paused. ‘I think some of this might be more about your worries than hers?’
I pulled out of his embrace and blinked back the angry tears that were threatening to spill. ‘Fine,’ I said, sniffing. ‘Don’tblame me when she ends up spending years in therapy because her parents kicked her out, leaving her alone and friendless in a strange part of the country.’
‘Youarebeing a bit ridiculous,’ he said. ‘You know that don’t you?’
I shrugged. Maybe I did.
‘Look.’ He tried again. ‘It was always going to be hard for her. She was so settled at home. You and she were always so tight, thick as thieves. And, you know, her circle of friends was small. She’d known two of them since pre-school, for goodness’ sake.’
‘And it’s a beautiful thing,’ I said. ‘To have longstanding friendships like that – people who’ve known you your whole life.’
‘It is, it is. But maybe she needs to branch out, find some friends who are a bit different. We need to encourage her to broaden her horizons Hattie, and I feel like… like, if she’s worrying about you and how you’re coping, if she’s spending every day messaging you and talking to you –’ I opened my mouth to contradict him and then thought better of it – ‘then she’s not going to feel free to get out there and spread her wings.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I just wonder whether the closeness you two have, maybe it’s becoming a bit of a burden? Or at least an excuse for her not to push herself a bit more.’
‘So, it’s my fault? The fact that she’s lonely?’ I was furious now. ‘Right. Great. Of course.’ I dropped the saucepan into the sink and went to storm out of the kitchen. ‘I’ve smothered her and theterrible burdenof my parenting has stopped her from making friends! And I expect, in addition, I’ve set her a dreadful example of how to integrate into normal society by becoming so isolated and reclusive myself!’
This was my parting shot, laden with sarcasm. It wasn’t until I was halfway upstairs that I realised some of what I’d said might be true.
Chapter Eleven
Shudder. If ever there were words to strike fear into the hearts of mortal women, surely it was these. Golf. Club. Social. And this evening, I was that mortal woman. But despite my reservations I knew I had to go, both for the sake of my marriage, and the sake of my credibility within that marriage – to prove to my husband (and myself) that I was a functioning adult person, capable of socialising in my own right.
Joe and I had patched things up after our little disagreement (insomuch as ‘not really discussing it’ can be considered patching things up) but some of his words had hit home and I did take the opportunity to capitalise on the double whammy of finding out I’d lost my job on the same day that I discovered I was also a terrible overbearing mother, to tart up my CV and apply for the library assistant position. More to have something to thrust under my husband’s nose to demonstrate how proactive I was being than anything else. Small wins.
I also vowed not to call Layla any more than was strictly necessary, waiting patiently until the next day to hear about her flatmates’ thoughts on the house they’d viewed (too far from town and not enough en-suite bathrooms – how very dreadful for them) and whether she was feeling okay about it. And I worked extremely hard to avoid suggesting an immediate return home, or another lengthier visit from her newly unemployed mother, who would have been happy to sleep on the floor or even in the skanky kitchen if it meant I could be near her in her hour of distress.
It was in this new state of equanimity and acceptance that I donned my glad rags (wide-leg, bottle-green jumpsuit, tailored jacket, low heeled boots) and entered the hallowed portal of‘Hole in One’, the oh so cleverly named bar gracing the clubhouse at Amberley Golf Course. The fact that my mother called me just as our taxi pulled up to the very well-maintained portico entrance did not add to my mood, which was currently one of sombre penance.
‘Harriet. I’ve booked us into the day spa at Mornington Grange,’ she said with minimal preamble. ‘I felt you looked a little peaky the last time I saw you.’
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Thanks.’
‘And Joe mentioned that you’d lost your job.’
I looked sideways at my husband. ‘Did he now?’
‘And I know you’ve sunk into the doldrums since Layla left, and what with that and being unemployed I thought a hot stone massage and rejuvenating facial might be just the ticket.’
‘Right.’
‘To be honest, darling, you just need to pull yourself together as regards Layla. Life moves on.’
‘Right. Yes.’
‘And anyway, Robert gets a twenty percent discount at Mornington because he used to run one of his aesthetics clinics there. It goes some way to making up for the fact that he’s a terrible bore.’
‘Right.’ Joe was paying the taxi driver and gesturing for me to wrap up the conversation. ‘So, sorry, Mum – when is this?’
‘The third of November,’ she said. ‘It’s a Tuesday. I thought it probably didn’t matter which day of the week it was now that you’re…’
‘Unemployed – yes, so you said,’ I finished for her.
‘Well. Quite. And I don’t have much space in the calendar over the weekends, so it suited me too.’
‘I’ll bet it did,’ I said, somewhat ungraciously. ‘Look, I haven’t got my diary on me, Mum.’ (I obviously did – it was on my phone – but my mother still uses an old-school A5 pocketdiary with illustrations from the Royal Horticultural Society and assumes that everyone else does the same.) ‘Can I give you a call tomorrow when I’ve checked if I’m free on that date?’
‘Well, I’ve already booked it Harriet.’ Her tone was one of disappointment that I’d not somehow intuited that I needed to keep that day in November free. ‘And it would beveryinconvenient to have to change it now. I’m not sure if Robert’s discount would…’
‘Mum, I’ve really got to go,’ I said as a car behind us gave a parp on its horn and Joe gestured more frantically at me to get out of the car. ‘I’ll speak to you tomorrow. How about you come round for lunch?’
