My phone dinged with a response from Amy:
Yeah, fine. Coming home in like 3 weeks, so hopefully she’ll see I’m okay.
Three weeks was a long time to deal with Mum in this state, but maybe that was the promised shake-up. Maybe I’d need to keep Mum from losing it.
Three weeks was also plenty of time for me to fit in my first camping trip of the year. I’d been thinking about what I wanted to do this summer, and along with some time on the water – the levels had been way too high over the winter to get any paddling in safely – a trip to the Brecon Beacons was at the top of my list. I’d been every year since I’d come home, and it was becoming a bit of a tradition for me; a way to kick-start the summer. So as I finished my tea and got dressed for dinner, I made a mental packing list, hoping I could shave a bit of weight off last year’s load, and went through my sparse calendar in my mind. There was Adam’s stag do, Chloe’s birthday party, and … well, not a lot else. Which was just the way I liked it.
I walked back up to the main house for dinner, my black t-shirt long gone. I let myself in through the front door to find Mum setting the table. My stomach rumbled as I spotted the sausage and mash; it was my favourite that she made. I knew the gravy would be from last weekend’s roast, and the sausages from the farm up the road. Maybe besides Phil, Mum was the best cook I knew. He’d learned from her, after all.
“Looks great, Mum,” I said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
“Thank you, darling.” I could hear the edge of anxiety in her voice, but I very much didnotask her about it. She’d end up talking all through dinner about Amy, and how worried she was, and how badly she wanted her back. I wondered if that was how she’d talked about me when I’d been away.
Dad came in a moment later, also freshly showered, and plonked down in his seat. Mum and I sat down with him, and we all tucked in. The food was just as delicious as it smelled, which was heavenly.
“How are Phil and Chloe?” Mum asked as she poured me a glass of red wine.
“Yeah, fine,” I answered, my mouth full of food. When she glared at me, I gulped it down before continuing. “Sounds like Ethel’s memory isn’t getting any better, but Phil seems to be in good spirits.”
“I’ll have to go sit with her one of these days,” she said. “I’m sure poor Phil could use a break.”
“Yeah, probably,” I admitted. Phil had been caring for his nan full-time for a couple of years now, since she’d turned eighty and promptly broken her hip, as if it had reached an expiration date or something. She’d raised Phil since his parents had died; Phil had only been eight. “Same as Batman,” he always joked. But I knew it was still hard for him, even now, two decades later.
“And Chloe’s okay? She’s not dating anyone, is she?”
I laughed; Mum had only ever met one of Chloe’s girlfriends, over a year ago now. “No, Mum, she’s not.”
“Oh well that’s lucky,” she said. “Cynthia at work has a daughter who’s a lesbian, and I thought maybe we could set them up.”
“I’m sure she’d love that,” I said, knowing full well Chloe wouldnotlove that. “You can let her know the next time you see her.”
We almost got through the entirety of dinner without bringing up Amy, but in the end it was Dad, who’d hardly said anything all night, that opened that particular can of worms. Mum was asking him to fix part of the pergola that had come loose, but apparently he’d left his toolbox in Manchester when he’d moved Amy out of her ex Chris’s place and into the flat share she was now in.
“Oh that’s okay,” I said, “you can borrow mine.”
Dad levelled a gaze at me so pointed it sent a shiver up my spine.
“Or, you know,” I said, “I could do it?”
He nodded.
“Oh thank you, darling,” Mum said, grabbing my hand across the table. “And Alan, I’m so glad you did leave it, because I’ve been thinking one of us ought to go up and check on her. This gives us an excuse.”
Dad sighed. “I’ll be fine without the toolbox, love. I’m a contractor. I’ve got tools coming out my eyeballs.”
“But still,” Mum insisted, “she’s so far away, and heartbroken up there all alone.”
“She’s coming home in three weeks for a visit, isn’t she?” I asked.
“Is she?” Mum looked surprised, and I wondered for a moment if I should have been keeping that to myself. But no, Amy would have to stay with Mum and Dad. “Oh, she doesn’t tell me anything,” Mum continued. “You’d think I’d be the first to know about that.”
“It’s only because I asked,” I lied. “I’m sure she’ll be texting you any moment to let you know.”
I pulled out my phone under the table and fired off a quick message to Amy letting her know she needed to do that.
“I just want the best for you two,” Mum said, in a complete non sequitur. “I really thought she and Chris might make it.”
“Well, maybe don’t go on about it to her,” I suggested, and Mum frowned.
