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“Mum washed my jeans! Can you believe that?”
“Thank you for washing my jeans, Mum,” Liza said, and Caitlin flushed.
“I needed them today, that’s all.”
“If you needed them, why were they in the laundry?”
“Because they needed a wash—but I thought you’d have done it by now. I put them there on Monday.”
“I’ve had a busy week too. I’m sure you can find something else to wear.”
“I wanted my jeans. I’m going to look awful in all the photos, and that will be your fault. You’re still punishing me because of the stupid party. I hate my life!” She thundered back upstairs and reappeared ten minutes later wearing a pair of thigh-length boots with bare legs and a miniskirt.
Still blindsided by the fact that her daughter thought she hadn’t washed the jeans out of spite, Liza blinked. “Where did you get those boots?”
“Jane lent them to me.”
“Well, you can give them back.” Stay calm. Do not escalate the tension. “You’re not wearing that outfit to school, last day or not. It’s inappropriate.”
Caitlin’s eyes sparked. “I know you like to control absolutely everything about our lives, but you’re not controlling what I wear. I decide. I do have a brain, you know.”
“And it would be good to see you using it.” This was exhausting and thankless. “Go and change.”
“No time.” Caitlin swung her bag over her shoulder and headed for the car.
Alice was right behind her. “Don’t start a fight,” she begged. “I can’t be late today. I’m reciting a poem, remember? Doing that is enough of a horror without being late.”
Why was she always the one who had to deal with these moments?
She’d give anything to swap places with Sean. She’d take a picky adult over a teenager in a tantrum any day.
“Can we go?” Alice tugged her sleeve. “People wear anything on their last day. No one cares.”
“Do people wear barely anything? Because that seems to be the look your sister is going for.” Liza looked at her daughter’s sleek bare thighs as she folded herself into the car.
She really ought to stand firm on this one, but Alice was right. If she stood her ground and argued they would all be late, her included. It wasn’t fair to expect her colleagues to cover her classes because her daughter was determined to make life as difficult as possible.
Shame washed over her.
She was allowing herself to be manipulated, and she’d almost given up caring. She was too tired to resist.
Defeated, she locked the front door and drove to school.
Caitlin scowled from under her fringe for the short journey and the moment Liza stopped the car she sprang out and headed through the gates, all sweet smiles and waves when she saw her friends.
“Bye, Mum.” Alice slammed the car door behind her and followed her sister.
Liza sat in the silence of the car and then glanced back at the twins. Caitlin was now convulsed with laughter, arms round her friends. Less than fifteen minutes earlier she’d behaved as if her life was over. Now she looked as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
Hurt slid into her.
Breathe, Liza, breathe.
They’d come through this phase, as they had all the others. One day she’d laugh at it. Would she?
She wanted so badly to be close to them. She’d never wanted them to think I wish I was closer to my mother, as she so often did. But they didn’t seem interested.
What was she to them? She was a chauffeur, a housekeeper, a chef.
