‘You said some of the wives were the most obnoxious, tedious and thoroughly dreadful women you’d ever encountered.’
‘Well, that’s as maybe,’ I said hurriedly. ‘But the point still stands, sportisa good way to meet people.’
‘Okay, Mum. I get the heavy hint.’ She yawned expansively.
‘I know it didn’t go well with the hockey team,’ I said, recalling what had happened at Freshers’ Fair when she’d approached HockSoc and been told in no uncertain terms that they were looking for girls who played at regional level as a bare minimum, and that there were three stages of trials. ‘But there are plenty of other sports to try where the people might be a bitfriendlier.’
‘Yes. I mean, I was thinking I might try the football team. Asmaa, who I was out with last night, said they’re looking forplayers in the thirds. Training’s on a Thursday so it would fit okay with lectures.’
‘Fantastic!’ I said, far too quickly.
She gave a tiny eyeroll. ‘I said I’d think about it, alright? I’m not feeling up to running around a freezing pitch at the moment, not with this cold.’
‘Of course, of course. No pressure. And great that you went out last night. Asmaa sounds nice?’
‘I’ve literally just mentioned her name. How do you know she’s nice?’
‘Well, yes, but for her to have told you about the football, I’m assuming she’s nice if she’s invited you along…’
‘It’s okay Mum.’ She was laughing at me now. ‘I just meant, you can cool it a bit. If I casually reference someone in passing it doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m going to end up being their chief bridesmaid in fifteen years’ time.’
‘Understood. But I’m glad you went out with a different crew last night.’
‘Crew.’ She stifled another little laugh. ‘Hilarious.’
‘Good. I’m glad I amuse you.’
‘Anyway…’ She shrugged down under her covers and from the angle I guessed she was propping her phone on her knees. ‘How has the rest of the week been at work?’
I started in on a long story about the other members of staff I’d met since Wednesday, how friendly they all were, how much I’d learned already, and how satisfying it was to advise customers.
‘That’s nice,’ she said sleepily.
‘And Malia’s been great. She’s only in for a couple of hours in the afternoon but she does Monday to Friday during term-time and the stories she tells about the kids, it really reminds me of when you were at primary school. All the constant chat about reading records and doodle quizzes and permission slips for administration of Calpol on school trips. She showed me one ofthe parent WhatsApp groups and it’s full of absolute sociopaths. There’s all these little pass-agg messages like ‘Luca would love to come to Charlie’s party, thank you, especially as it’s going to be at Dino-world, which was where Luca originally wanted to have his own birthday party. In fact, Luca has been set on Dino-world as a venue for the past six months and I feel sure he’d have mentioned it to all his classmates – maybe that’s where Charlie got the idea from?’ She puts on this hilarious voice while she’s reading them out and honestly, I was laughing so much yesterday that Ren had to hit me with one of the cushions from the quiet reading corner.’
I paused, waiting for some response from my daughter but then spotted on the screen that her eyes were closed and she appeared to be snoring gently.
‘Ahh, right,’ I said quietly. ‘You get back to sleep poppet. I’ll call later.’
I closed the app and turned the radio on as I made myself a cup of tea. Outside the window a grey November fog lingered, the weak wintery sun barely making its presence felt. As the kettle came to the boil I wondered whether Joe would be able to play golf in this weather. Perhaps they’d all end up in the bar talking about business deals instead.
I messaged him. ‘Managed to bore our daughter into a coma with my tales from work. She fell asleep during the call!’ and he responded with a laughing emoji saying he’d be back in an hour and did I need anything from the supermarket for dinner (which was code for, ‘what are we having for dinner?’). I’d already put the potatoes and chicken in the oven and there was a wash going round in the machine, so I put my feet up for a few moments whilst drinking my tea, feeling that I had earned a little rest. That was one of the nice things about going out to work I realised, despite the mountain of chores that still awaited you onyour return, the change of scene made home feel a little bit more like a place to relax and unwind.
As I sat there, stroking Clarence, who had come to join me as soon as he realised a warm lap was available, I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply, feeling content and hopeful for the first time in months. I had a happy husband out playing a sport he enjoyed (at a club we could barely afford, but never mind), a marginally more settled daughter who had at least left her flat once this half term and had a very slim prospect of more socialising to come if the football paid off, and I had adapted to my new job with surprising speed. Maybe now was the time to savour a tiny moment of calm.
Then the doorbell rang.
I shifted Clarence off my lap and carried my mug of tea to the door, not trusting the cat not to drink it in my absence.
‘Hi Mum,’ I said, seeing her on the doorstep, her shoulders hunched against the cold. ‘This is a nice surprise.’ I ushered her indoors and took her coat. ‘Are you okay?’
Her shoulders seemed to sag further. ‘Not really, Harriet, no.’
‘What is it? Would you like a cup of tea?’
We walked through to the kitchen and I put the kettle on for its fourth round of the morning. ‘Have a sit down,’ I said, pulling out a chair and clearing a space amongst the general debris of books and papers strewn across the table.
‘It’s nothing really,’ she said, regaining some of her usual vigour as she took the cup I handed her. I’d used one of the bone china set that lives in the cupboard and rarely makes it out.
