Page 125 of One in Three


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‘I’m not arguing.’

She puts the roasting pan on the drainer, and turns to me, bubbles dripping from her soapy hands onto the floor. ‘Lou, I’m worried about you. This horrid business with Bagpuss—’

‘Min, you know how much I value your advice,’ I interrupt.

She sighs. ‘Yes, but you never take it.’

She means well, I know that. Whatever concern she has for me, it comes from a place of love. And unlike everyone else, including my mother, she doesn’t have a hidden agenda. I wish I could confide in her, and tell her what I learned from my visit to Caz’s mother. But even admitting I tracked the old woman down and went to see her will just fuel Min’s conviction that I’m obsessed. I know she’s already wondering about Bagpuss. I don’t blame her: with my history, I’d do the same.

‘Min, dear,’ my mother says, letting herself in the back door and making us both jump. ‘Would you like to go out and join Luke and the boys? I can help Louise finish up in the kitchen.’

Min recognises an imperative interrogative when she hears one: it may sound like a question, but it’s actually a command. She mouths a quick ‘Talkto her!’ at me, and disappears outside.

Mum puts her basket of tomatoes on the counterand snaps on her rubber gloves, groping around in the soapy dishwater. ‘You’re handling Andrew all wrong, Louise,’ she says bluntly, rinsing a serving bowl under the tap. ‘I’ve told you before. Rushing off to London like a lunatic—’

‘Yes, I know,’ I say testily. ‘I shouldn’t have done that, but I was upset.’

‘He needs to be gently reminded what he gave up when he walked away from you, not bludgeoned over the head with it,’ Mum says. ‘You know how much family means to him. He didn’t just walk out on you when he left, he walked out on all of us, and he’s regretted it ever since.’

I pick up the crockery and start to dry it. I don’t want to have this conversation, but there’s no stopping my mother when she’s got the bit between her teeth. She’s right about one thing: familyhasalways been important to Andrew. His parents both died quite young, when he was in his mid-twenties, and he’s an only child. Until we married, he had no relatives to speak of, other than some distant cousins in Salford where he grew up. He needed my extended family every bit as much as we needed him to fill the gaping hole left by Nicky.

‘Mum, he doesn’t regret leaving me,’ I sigh. ‘He could’ve tried to come back, but in four years he’s never shown the slightest desire to.’

‘He loves you, Louise. Yes, perhaps he thinks he loves her, too,’ she adds impatiently, heading off my objections. ‘And I don’t doubt he loves Kit. But marriage isabout more than love, and as you get older, you realise that. Andrew needs to be part of something bigger.’ She hands me another serving platter to dry. ‘It’s why people like him go into television. They need the audience, the mass adoration. They need to feel like theybelong. I’m trying to help you, Louise, but you’re not making it easy.’

‘Help me what?’

‘Get what you want.’ She turns to face me, her hands still in the sink. ‘Andrew. Heiswhat you still want, isn’t he?’

For a brief moment, my foolish heart dares to hope. A sunlit reel plays on romcom fast-forward in my head: Andrew and me waking up in bed together, laughing with the children over the breakfast table, strolling hand in hand on the beach with the wind whipping our hair as seagulls circle overhead …

My head aches. ‘That’s not an option, Mum.’

‘Of course it is.’ She reaches for the gravy boat and empties its sludgy contents into the bin. ‘All he needs is a reason to come back. But you have to stop chasing after him. He has to come to you.’

‘I’m not chasing after—’

‘Moving into his house?’ Mum cuts across me. ‘Taking a job where his wife works?’

I flush. ‘I’ve already told Chris I’m quitting Univest and Whitefish. I’m trying to be the adult here.’

‘And what about the cat?’

‘The police aren’t going to do anything. They say none of it can be proved, so—’

‘Caz didn’t poison your cat, and you know it,’ Mum says.

‘I know it’s hard to believe, but—’

‘Louise Roberts, you can lie to the police, you can lie to Andrew, you can even lie to yourself. But don’teverthink you can lie to me.’

A beat falls.

I clear my throat. ‘That was a long time ago, Mum.’

‘I’m not blind, Louise. I can see what’s happening. I warned you last time, but you didn’t listen.’ She turns back to the sink, literally washing her hands of me. ‘You’re going to regret this. If you make the same mistake with Andrew as you did with Roger Lewison, it’ll end exactly the same way.’

It’s not fair for her to throw that back in my face. I was only nineteen, young and in love for the first time. Who doesn’t make mistakes then?

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