“I think I did,” I said. “Just not the part he wanted me to.”
“And that’s okay,” Mum said. “I think he’s just disappointed. But he’ll come around. We’ve always known you’d want to do something creative. So this is no surprise really.”
Mum smiled, and I could tell that she really believed that. I wasn’t so sure; Dad had seemed really set on retiring soon. But I decided to just take her word for it, and Dad could sort himself out. It didn’t have to be my problem.
“But I’ll tell you what is a surprise,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“That you and Morgan broke up,” she said. “We really liked her, Jackie.”
“Yeah,” I said sadly. “Me too.”
“You wanna tell me what happened?”
I found that I did, actually; I did want to tell Mum what had happened. But I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to without crying. I could already feel the tears pricking at my eyes – they were probably only half from being asked about Morgan, and half from the relief of having told my parents about RIBA – and I looked up at the light coming through the window to try to stop them coming. It didn’t work, and I felt them drip down my cheeks as I blinked.
“Oh, darling,” Mum said, wiping them away, but I quickly replenished them. I looked down at my lap, where she’d taken my hands in hers.
“She’s so talented,” I said, trying my best to distil everything into something easy for Mum to understand. “She had this job opportunity in York, and I gave her an ultimatum.”
“Oh, love.”
“I know,” I said, nodding. “She said that she didn’t want to leave, but that she couldn’t be with me if I couldn’t be honest with myself and with her about what I wanted.”
Mum nodded, trying to follow along. “Which was…”
I shrugged. “Well, her, obviously. But also this.” I nodded at the booklet, which Dad had dropped on the sofa when he left. “Just … more. For myself.”
“She’s a smart woman,” Mum said, rubbing circles on my shoulder.
“She really is,” I said. “But I messed it up so badly.”
Mum shook her head. “I’m so sorry, darling.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I said, the tears coming faster now, and I bent forward to rest my forehead on her shoulder.
“I think you’re doing everything you can do,” Mum said.
“But what if it’s not enough?” I asked, sitting up again, searching her eyes for reassurance.
“For what?” she asked. “Because if you’re doing all this to get her back” – she gestured to the booklet – “it doesn’t mean anything. But I don’t think that’s true.”
“Enough to be happy,” I said. I didn’t tell her that I wasn’t completely convinced Icouldbe happy without Morgan.
“You’ll find happiness no matter what,” Mum said. “It’s not about one thing that will make you happy, remember? It’s about how you approach life. And it seems like you’re finally starting to get that.”
* * *
I thoughtabout Mum’s advice all through the next twenty-four hours, as I packed for the Ren Faire. It was almost verbatim what I’d said to Morgan all those months ago on the riverside on our weekend away. But then I’d been talking about adventure. Maybe what I meant then and what she meant now were the same thing.
The time had finally come. My costumes were expertly packed by Chloe, and the Defender was full of petrol. I’d been bracing myself to be around Morgan for the weekend, but I still had a few hours until I’d need to confront that. In the meantime, I was sharing a lift to the airport with my two favourite people. And if I were ever going to find happiness amidst my grief and anxiety, it was going to be with them.
I picked Phil up first, and I laughed out loud when I saw him come down the drive with a cardboard lute in his hand.
“How the hell are you gonna get that on the plane?” I asked as he actually buckled it into the back seat to keep it from moving around.
“That’s the definition of a personal item, mate,” he said.
