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‘Well, mostly,’ I reply. ‘I still needed electricians and plumbers and carpenters.’
‘Oh, my!’ Mum jokes.
Tom practically melts. He’s so charmed by her. I get it, though, because while she may have transformed herself into this blonde bombshell who doesn’t look a day over thirty, she’s still the same sweet, caring, mumsy mum on the inside, and there’s a great comfort in a personality like that.
‘You really have done such a fantastic job, my darling,’ Mum says, wrapping an arm around me. ‘It’s going to be so wonderful, the two of us living together.’
‘You two are going to be living together?’ Tom asks curiously. He has a cheeky glint in his eye, I’m not quite sure why. Perhaps he’s imagining us having sleepover parties, painting our nails and talking about boys. That may not be that far off the mark.
‘Yes!’ Mum beams. ‘We’re going to be each other’s wingwoman, and have such a magical Christmas in her beautiful home. Oh, you really should see it.’
‘I’d love to,’ Tom replies quickly.
‘Oh, shit, did you hear that?’ I interrupt. ‘Is that… is that your friend calling for help? He sounds hurt!’
‘Back in minute,’ Tom announces heroically as he dutifully dashes inside.
‘I didn’t hear anything,’ Mum says with a casual shrug as she smooths out her coat.
‘That’s because I made it up,’ I insist plainly. ‘Stop flirting with the movers!’
Mum laughs.
‘You’re such a grump,’ she teases. ‘I am not flirting with the movers, I’m just proud of what you’ve done with your lovely home, everyone needs to see it. When did you get so uptight?’
‘Sometime around all the stuff we just talked about,’ I reply, stating the obvious. ‘Please don’t invite random men over, Mum. I don’t care if that makes me seem uptight.’
She wraps an arm around me and pulls me close for a half-hug.
‘I’m just proud of you, and what you’ve done – and all without a bloody man,’ she tells me. ‘I just want everyone to see.’
I smile.
‘Well, I’m proud of you too,’ I tell her.
Even if living with Mum for a while is going to drive me slightly crazy, I love her to bits, and we do have a great relationship.
‘We’re better off without men,’ I insist, just as Tom arrives back. His face falls, like I’ve just told him there’s no Santa Claus.
‘We really are,’ she eventually replies. ‘A man-free Christmas is just what we need.’
Mum is absolutely right about a man-free Christmas being a good idea, but my plans were about so much more than that. Still, it will be nice to have some company – a break from living alone might be good – it’s just not the Christmas period I had in mind.
‘So, what time shall I come over?’ Tom asks her quietly, but not so quietly I don’t hear.
‘Erm…’
Mum looks over at me expectantly, like a kid asking if their friend can come over for dinner after school.
I – without a doubt, without even trying, in fact – can manage a man-free Christmas.
I don’t think my mum can, though. And that definitely isn’t on my Christmas list.
2
There’s something about the last day of term that makes everyone a little crazy.
One of the great things about teaching in a private school is that we finish for Christmas much earlier than most schools. Still, we do all down tools the days before the last day of term, so today is just about having fun, allowing the children to celebrate together and swap presents before going off to their country mansions or winter sun holidays.
