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“How’s life?” I asked, knowing she’d give the same answer as always.
Sure enough, she replied, “Oh, the usual, dear, I’m getting on.”
This, I’d learned, was her polite way of saying that the job was still boring as all hell and a bad living to boot, but that she refused to make mincemeat over it. She was a tough old biscuit, that one.
“Got any EastEnders updates?” I queried. It was her favorite show on the telly, and she watched it with an almost religious fervor. When asked about it, she could go on for hours. While I personally thought the show was absolute rubbish, I enjoyed seeing her face light up.
She went on a rant about something or another that this Ian fellow had done, and to be honest I tuned out. When she took a breath ten minutes later, I nodded cheerfully and said that the show sounded like it was going in an exciting direction.
“Oh no, love, it’s bollocks,” she explained. “But what are you going to do?”
This was her attitude concerning everything — ultimate resignation in the face of mediocrity. I don’t mean to sound harsh, it was just a defining trait of hers. After a lifetime of getting knocked down, resignation was about the best she could manage.
“But how are you, dearest heart?” she inquired with the sincerity only a mother could muster. “How’s the new job? Settling in all right? Good team? Tell me everything.”
I smiled, and replied, “It’s great, Mum, thanks for asking. I’ve got plenty of responsibility, the campus is nice, my room and board are free, and the team shows real promise. Did I miss anything?”
She laughed, and I smiled once more. I loved her laugh. Even an ocean away, that sound was unmistakable.
“Do you like the girls?” she questioned casually.
I froze. What should I say? The truth? Because the truth was that I liked the girls far, far too much. Well, girl, anyways. Singular.
With those maternal instincts, she homed in on my hesitation, and asked, “There’s nothing wrong, is there?”
“No, Mum, nothing at all.”
“You seem upset.”
I sighed. Why did she have to be so insightful? “I’m not upset, it’s just — this is a big step up for me, and I don’t want to botch it.”
“Is that all?” she said. “Simon, you’ve been training for this since you were a wee one. I told all the neighbors—”
“Mum!”
“I’m your mother, I get to brag. I told them all, and you know something? Even Miss Read was quite chuffed.”
That made me blush. Miss Read was the old bag who lived three doors down, and she positively despised my mum and me. When I was a kid she’d scowl at me, and when I was a teenager she’d call the bobbies on me and my mates just to prove a point. So her being proud of me, well… I wasn’t ashamed to say it, it filled me with pride in myself, too.
“And I told them all what you were making, in US dollars of course—”
I groaned. “That’s not appropriate.”
“Sue me. I told them, and they said you’ll be fit to be king soon! When you come back home, you won’t even want to chat with the likes of us.”
“Don’t be crazy,” I chided. “I’ll always be a Tower kid be at heart.” I paused, and added, “But that doesn’t mean I won’t get you that little cottage out in Brighton.”
Her one dream, since she was a small girl, was to retire to that seaside town. We’d visit once a year when I was growing up, and she’d show me all the cottages she had her eye on. Sometimes, we’d even drop into a Realtor’s office, though of course given her salary, nothing ever came of it. When I was only ten or so, I’d sworn to her that I’d grow up and earn enough to buy her a cottage. She’d called me her knight in shining armor.
“You don’t have to buy me a cottage, dear boy,” she said. “It was sweet when you were a child, but I’m not going to hold you to it.”
I shook my head. “Don’t be ridiculous. A promise is a promise.”
She grinned. “What a prince.” A bell rung in the distance and she quickly said, “I’ve got to go, love, but ring me more often. I miss you terribly.”
This burned my heart, but I replied, “Of course, Mum. I love you.”
“Love you too, Simon.”
With that, the video line went dead. I rubbed the back of my hand over my eyes.
The call had reminded me not only of how much I loved my mum, but how very much I had to do right by her. This new job wasn’t just for me — it was for everyone who I’d grown up with, all the other impoverished people who wanted better lives for their kids. The residents of Tower weren’t blood family, but we’d all been through more together than the average family. And they knew where I was, what I was doing, and they were cheering for me every step of the way.
