Page 94 of Read My Lips

She always asked. Never once remembered I didn’t like my tea sweet at all.

“What am I getting up to, Gran?” Did she know about the video? Is that what this was?

Irritation flashed in her eyes. “Why can’t you get on without all these theatrics? You were always trying to make trouble. It’s your Mam’s fault. She indulged you. We indulged her.”

I stared.

“Indulged her? You wouldn’t even let her use BSL!”

“Fat lot of good that ever did her. James should have put his foot down harder, instead of letting her move out on her own. Ridiculous. Getting involved with all those people. She would have been better off staying with us. I would have looked after her.” The cutlery drawer rattled as she yanked it open. “And what did we get instead? The stupid girl got herself knocked up, and left all her bloody mess for us to look after. As if we hadn’t done enough for her already. And then you⁠—”

Behind her, the counter tops wobbled. Except, it wasn’t them at all. It was me.

I was the mess. That’s what she meant. The inconvenience she never wanted.

Blood whooshed in my ears. She clattered a teaspoon frantically against the edge of her mug, stirring and stirring and stirring, and she didn’t take it back.

“How – how can you speak about your own daughter like that?”

Gran gave me a pitying look, like I was too stupid to figure it out. “She was a trial, luv. Wouldn’t be taught.”

“She didn’t need to learn anything from you.” Fists balled tight enough my knuckles burnt, I made myself breathe. In and out. Counting slow until the numbers didn’t mean anything. My mother was not a trial.

“If you’re quite finished, tea’s up. Did you want a biscuit?”

She dusted off her hands against her skirt, neatening the folds as she turned to me with a smile. “You look tired, pet. That jumped-up boss of yours is running you ragged again, isn’t he? You should sit down. Put your feet up. Stop letting people use you, luv.”

Stark unease trickled coldly down the back of my neck. This is where she hid her nastiness, right in the parts that looked like care. Even Simon wouldn’t be able to reputation manage me out of it if I threw a little old lady out the window.

“You know what, Gran? You’re absolutely right.”

Carefully, I picked up the last carrier bag, with the milk and the loaf of bread and the eggs in it.

“Where do you think you’re going? I’ve made tea.”

“You’ll have to drink it yourself then.”

Somehow, the ugly little porcelain dog ended up in my hand. And somehow it ended up in a thousand pieces at the bottom of the communal rubbish bin in the car park. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking all the way to the bus stop.

On the top deck of the first bus I stumbled onto, the shuddering engine rattled the windows so hard my fillings were in danger of coming free. The bus roared along the high street, engine juddering far too loudly with every gear change, and I didn’t care about the hot stale air blowing through the vent by my ankles, or the lack of breeze from the cracked-open windows, or the smell of someone’s bag of chicken and chips at the back. We were moving – heading home, away from here.

Gran’s voice rumbled through my head on repeat with all the things she’d said about Mam. About me disappointing her over and over again. The way she wouldn’t talk about any of it. Why had I left my headphones at home? I wanted to drown her out with a generic playlist tailored to people who didn’t know what they wanted out of life other than to stop thinking. People exactly like me.

In my pocket my phone burbled, and I snatched at the distraction.

Simon

Booked us in for lunch at Possimus tomorrow. It’ll snare media interest. Say if it doesn’t work for you. Could always track down those stag-do friends of yours instead..?

I could picture his grin. The look he’d give me saying that. Everything felt better when I was with him. Even when I ballsed it all up, he’d never made me feel like he didn’t want me there. Not really. My thumb hovered over the video-call button. God, I wanted to talk to him. Not swap clever lines until he inevitably outwitted me.

Fuck it. I hit call.

He picked up before the second ring, his image flickering in, expression warm and welcoming.

“Just a minute – I’ll put you down somewhere.” The world swirled around him as he wandered through his flat, preoccupied. Gorgeous as ever. I ghosted the pang of longing to be there right now. Bloody hell, why had I decided to leave?

Simon propped the phone and stood back, tall and creaseless.