‘Yes, sorry about that. Thing is… I need you to collect me from the airport. In approximately… three hours.’
‘What?’
‘I’m flying back from Malaga slightly ahead of schedule.’
‘I didn’t know you were in Malaga. I didn’t actually know you’d left the country,’ I said, rolling my eyes at David, who smiled to himself.
‘Well, let’s just say it was all very last minute and seems to have been something of a mistake. I’ll explain later. I’m just about to go through customs. I’ll text the flight details to your mobile telephone.’
‘Mum, I’m working late this evening. I’m not going to be able to get to the airport in…’ I broke off. ‘She’s hung up!’ I said to David. ‘Unfuckingbelievable.’
‘If you need to head off early Hattie, that’s fine,’ he said. ‘Honestly. I don’t mind staying late. You can make up the hours some other time.’
‘Seriously?’ I said. ‘You know, I never had to take time off work because of Layla. I mean, partly because I worked from home throughout her childhood, but even so, she didn’t give me half the drama my mother does. Or make any of the same demands– insisting that I drop everything whenever the whim takes her fancy.’
‘I’m sure your mother’s got her reasons,’ he said, smiling benignly.
I looked at my watch and sighed. ‘Ren’s right, you know. You are aterribleboss. You let your staff get away with murder in terms of the rota. I mean, obviously in every single other way possible, you’re an amazing boss. Just to be clear.’
‘I’m merely adapting to the needs of my workforce,’ he said. ‘This place runs on enthusiasm and a shoestring budget. If I lost the goodwill of my employees, we’d have had to close years ago – it’s not as if the salary is a huge inducement is it. No, you head off, make sure your mum’s okay, and let me know if you need tomorrow off as well. Just in case there’s something related to the airport pick-up that requires further sorting out. I can always ask Malia if she’s happy to do an extra shift.’
‘I’m really hoping that this is very much a temporary crisis that will be resolved within the day,’ I said. ‘But with my mother, you never know.’
Chapter Thirty
Three hours later, as instructed, I was standing in the arrivals area of Luton airport, arms folded across my chest and a pissed-off look on my face. Of course, my mother, emerging through the arrivals gate, paid my expression not the slightest bit of attention and simply handed me her bags.
‘Frightful journey,’ she said, removing her sunglasses as though she’d only now realised it was the middle of January in the UK. ‘A hugely obese man was sitting next to me, barely squeezed into his seat, flesh spilling all over the place…’
‘Mum!’ I hissed. ‘You can’t say that kind of thing about people. It’s fat-shaming.’
‘Well, he didn’t seem very ashamed,’ she huffed. ‘And a returning hen-party occupying all four rows in front. Smelled like a brewery and some of the language, Harriet! Well! Words I’d never even heard of. I’m surprised Mr Greedy beside me didn’t have a coronary. Especially when the inflatable penis bounced onto his head.’
‘Still, looks like you made friends,’ I said, indicating the L-plate slung around her neck like a medallion.
‘Ah, yes. Well, if you can’t beat them, join them. And they did provide some welcome distraction. If you can call Lianne’s stories of her ex-boyfriend’s infidelity with a seventeen-year-old he met on OnlyFans, distraction. He had a toe fetish apparently. Lianne’s ex.’
‘Jesus, Mum,’ I said, wearily rolling her Lulu Guinness suitcase behind me. ‘Let’s get you out of here before you say anything else that’s hugely indiscreet or offensive, at top volume.’
We were able to walk to the short-stay car park, but she looked a little chilly by the time we reached the car, so I put the hot-air blowers on full blast as we drove away. The roads remained icy and the fog was back, so I took a few wrong turnings (tutted at by my mother) before we got back onto the main road.
‘So, come on then,’ I said. ‘Why were you in Malaga in the first place?’
She exhaled through her nose with a force that competed with the car heaters. ‘I was meeting Roger, if you must know,’ she said eventually.
I ignored the ‘if you must know’, feeling that it was perfectly reasonable of me, both as her daughter and emergency chauffeur, to ask what exactly had taken her out of the country. ‘The same Roger who stood you up in November?’ I said, still smarting from the fact that she’d never admitted to me directly that they were back in touch.
‘The same.’ She looked out of the window, which, given that it was pitch black and foggy, was clearly an attempt to end the conversation and not her taking an interest in the view.
‘And were you meeting him there? In Malaga?’
‘Yes.’
‘And was he there?’
‘He was.’
‘Oh! Okay. Well, that’s progress at least.’
