AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘He’s been seeing someone else behind my back, Mum. Someone from work. I think it’s over. I just don’t know what to do!’ The words are now punctuated by sobs as I dissolve into a soggy mess once again. So much for not spoiling anyone’s Christmas.
She says nothing, just holds me and lets me cry. After a while, I notice the shoulder of her dress has a dark damp patch on it from my tears.
‘I’m ruining your dress!’ I exclaim as I gently break out of the hug.
I can see her switch into practical mode. ‘Oh, don’t worry about that. Let’s focus on you. Of course you can stay here for as long as you want. Your father will probably be pleased to have someone other than me to talk to. You can go into your old room. I was going to put the girls in there tonight, but we can set them up with sleeping bags on the floor somewhere. They’ll think it’s a great adventure. You stay in here until you feel ready and leave everything else to me. Do you want me to ask Simon to bring your stuff in from the car?’
I think of the bin bags full of clothes stuffed into the Micra, and Simon’s reaction when he saw them earlier. ‘No, it’s fine, Mum. I’ll do it later.’
‘OK, I’ll leave you now and go and sort the others out. Come through when you want to.’
As I continue washing up the glasses, I listen to the murmur of conversation in the living room as Mum fills the rest of the family in on my situation. At one point I hear Dad’s voice clearly as he says, ‘Has she given the weirdo the heave-ho then? Do we need more champagne?’ followed by my mother obviously telling him off.
Emma pops her head around the kitchen door. ‘I’m just going to move the girls’ stuff. I’m so sorry to hear about you and Josh. If there’s anything we can do…’
‘Thanks, Emma, I think I just need a bit of time to come to terms with it at the moment. Sorry to muck up your plans.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. The girls are delighted. They’re already working out where best to put the sleeping bags so Simon and I don’t tread on them when we go to bed. Really, don’t worry about it at all. Give me five minutes and the room will be all ready for you.’
She’s lovely, Emma. I can see why Simon married her. Temperamentally she’s not that different from my mother; she’s generally pretty chilled, but on the rare occasions I’ve seen her riled, she’s been terrifying. She loves her girls to bits, but they don’t get away with anything. The puppy, if they get one, will be a model of obedience, I’m sure.
I finish tidying the remains of the meal. The leftovers all go into the fridge in plastic tubs, the way I know Mum likes them. I pop a tablet into the dishwasher, start it, and wipe down all the surfaces. Something about performing these menial tasks is soothing, and I start to feel a bit better. Once I’m done, the kitchen is spotless. Time to bring my stuff in from the car.
As I push open the door of my old bedroom with the first bin bag, I take a moment to look around. I know lots of parents keep their children’s rooms as some sort of shrine to their adolescence after they leave home, with the posters on the walls and everything, but my mother has never been sentimental like that. Instead of the single bed I slept in when I was growing up, there is now a generously sized double, and the walls have been repainted in a restful shade of green. The contrasting cream curtains have a floral pattern on them that picks up the colour of the walls, and the carpet is cream coloured to match the curtains. Everything is colour-coordinated, down to the green duvet cover on the bed. The white flat-pack wardrobe and desk that I covered in stickers and boy-band posters have gone, replaced by a sturdy-looking pine wardrobe, a chest of drawers and a dressing table with a mirror. There are bedside lights on either side of the bed, throwing a soft light across the room. It’s a weird mix of familiarity (the shape of the room, its location in the house and the view from the window), and the totally new. I don’t think I’ve actually set foot in here since I moved out to live with Josh. We’ve visited regularly, of course, but only ever for the day, so I can’t remember the last time I came upstairs in Mum and Dad’s house. I dump the bag on the floor and go back downstairs to fetch the next. Once everything is in from the car, I sit down on the bed and try to summon up the energy to start unpacking it all.
* * *
I’m awoken by the sound of the girls thumping up the stairs to have their bath. Glancing at my watch I realise that I’ve been asleep for two hours. Deciding that the bin bags can wait, I check my appearance in the mirror. Not great. My hair is all frizzy where I’ve been lying on it. I dig out my hairbrush and brush it until it looks semi-passable before putting it back into my trademark ponytail and going downstairs. As I walk into the room and glance at the tree, I notice that the single present underneath has disappeared. Good old Mum.
‘Ah, there you are!’ Dad exclaims as I walk into the living room. ‘Did you have a good sleep? Your mum came to check on you and you were completely sparko,’ he adds with a chuckle.
‘I’ve put cheese and biscuits out in the dining room, with some sliced ham and other bits and pieces. You know how it works, love, just help yourself when you’re hungry.’ My mum is sitting in the chair next to Dad, flicking through the TV schedules on her iPad. ‘There doesn’t seem to be anything on that we want to watch. There’s theCall the MidwifeChristmas special, but that will probably send your father to sleep. Is there anything particular you’d like, Charlotte?’
‘No, I’m fine.’ Josh and I have normally headed off home by this point on Christmas Day, but the routine hasn’t changed since I was little, so I know what to expect and the rest of the evening passes very pleasantly. People help themselves from the spread in the dining room as and when they want to, Grace and Bella pass through giving everyone sloppy goodnight kisses before Emma puts them to bed, and nobody asks me any awkward questions. I drink a couple of glasses of wine and join in the general conversation, but by ten o’clock I can feel my eyelids drooping, so I make my excuses and head to bed.
* * *
* * *
Once I’ve dried myself and got dressed, I wander down to the kitchen in search of breakfast. Mum is in there, leafing through a home improvement magazine and sipping from a mug of coffee.
‘Morning, Charlotte, did you sleep well? You look loads better this morning.’
‘Thanks, Mum, that bed is really comfortable.’
‘Good. Help yourself to whatever you like for breakfast. There’s cereal, bread for toasting, eggs, you name it. I think there’s even some smoked salmon left if you fancy smoked salmon and scrambled eggs. I’m assuming you’re eating things like eggs and fish again after yesterday?’
‘Yes. To be honest, Mum, I was never a very good vegan. My love for bacon sandwiches kept derailing me.’ I smile at her.
As I busy myself with choosing cereal and getting the milk from the fridge, she fills me in on her plan for the day.
‘Emma, Simon and the girls are going to head off mid-morning, and your father has gone to play golf, so it’s just you and me today. I’m going to go to the garden centre this afternoon with Judy and see if I can bag a bargain or two in the sale. You’re welcome to come with us if you like.’
‘Thanks, Mum, but I probably ought to sort out my clothes and unpack.’ I need to start restoring some sense of order to my life and, although I like her, Mum’s friend Judy doesn’t have any tact at all. An afternoon of her quizzing me about my love life is the last thing I need right now.
‘OK. The offer stands if you change your mind though.’
Once they’ve all gone and I’m alone, I make a start on unpacking. As I do so, I try to make a plan. I can’t think beyond the next few days at the moment, but that’s enough for now. At some point I expect I’m going to have to talk to Josh again. I wonder if he’s tried to get hold of me. I fish my ancient iPhone out of my bag and switch it on. The battery life is so poor now that I keep it turned off unless I’m actually using it. No missed calls and no texts. I wonder what he’s doing. Is he going to his parents’ house with Scarlett? I’d like to be a fly on the wall for that one. I’ve always got on extremely well with Josh’s parents and I think they rather hoped we might marry one day. Fat chance of that now. As I feel the sadness welling up again, I make a positive effort to push thoughts of Josh and his family from my mind and focus on the task in hand instead, but a few tears fall anyway.
