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Alice
I stare at my mother. “We haven’t said that to each other. I haven’t known him that long, Mum.”
“Okay, let me rephrase it. Are youinlove with him?”
Totally. Crazily. Head-over-heels.
“I’m trying not to think about it,” I reply.
“Why?”
“Mum…”
“I know you don’t want to have this conversation,” she says, “but we’re going to have it.”
Something twists inside me. “Please, don’t.”
“Alice, you’re a sweet, sweet girl. I know how much you’ve given up to look after me. You’ve missed out on the end of your schooling, on university life, on having a normal job, and on dating.”
“I don’t want—”
“Alice,” she says firmly, and I close my mouth. “Please, let me speak. I haven’t argued with you because, well, I haven’t really had an option. I can’t live on my own, and we haven’t had the money to pay for someone to look after me.”
“And you’d hate that anyway.”
“I can’t deny that. And of course, maybe most importantly, I love having you home. You’re the light of my life, sweetheart. You have a beautiful heart, and no matter how bad I’m feeling, you only have to smile at me, and you fill me with joy.”
My eyes sting with unshed tears. “Mum…”
“Of course I love you and Charlie both the same—she’s wonderful, too, such a ray of sunshine. But Alice, there’s something special about you. You’re so giving, so generous. So unselfish. I’d miss you so much if you weren’t here. But…”
“Don’t,” I say, dashing away a tear as it spills over my lashes.
“I knew it would happen one day,” she says, ignoring my plea. “You’re far too beautiful not to have some man fall in love with you. And now it’s happened, and sweetheart, I don’t want to be the reason you don’t find happiness with the man you love.”
“I know. But there are lots of reasons why it wouldn’t work. We come from very different backgrounds. He’s not just wealthy, Mum, he’s a billionaire.” Her eyes widen. “We get on very well, but I know that long term it would never work. He travels a lot, and even though he says he doesn’t enjoy them, he has to go to functions and parties and conferences all over the world. And I’m… me. I like my life, Mum. Even if I didn’t live here with you, I wouldn’t be going to parties and living the high life. I love Wonderland, and the house, and our garden, and just being with you. I don’t want anything more than that.”
“That’s a lie, Alice. At least be honest with me.”
“I’m not lying. I’d hate that kind of lifestyle.”
“How do you know unless you’ve tried it? And anyway, even if that’s true, you can’t tell me that deep down you don’t want a partner, and maybe marriage, and children. That you don’t want to hold your own babies in your arms.”
That makes me falter, because saying no, I don’t want that would be a lie, and we both know it.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Close to bawling my eyes out, I get up from the sofa. “Can I get you anything before I go?” I turn on the baby monitor and slip the small receiver with its band over my hand onto my wrist. We bought it a couple of years ago, and it means I can move around the house and hear her as soon as she needs anything.
“Don’t go, sweetheart,” she whispers. “Stay and talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Mum.”
“Alice…”
I walk out of the room, something I’ve never done, even when I was a teenager. I barely make it to my bedroom before the tears start falling, and by the time I shut the door and lie on my bed, I’m crying for real, trying to muffle my sobs so she can’t hear them in the living room.
I can hear her snuffling a little through the baby monitor, trying to hide the fact that she’s crying, and that breaks my heart. We’re lucky in that we get on so well and hardly ever argue. And despite both of us being kind of housebound most of the time, she’s always ensured that I get out regularly on my own, encouraging me to go out for a walk or to the local shops when she has an afternoon nap, or to have a few days away whenever June comes to stay.
But it doesn’t change the fact that we both know there’s an invisible tie between us, and it’s always going to be there. I know Mum wants our relationship to be like any other mother and daughter—close, but not so close that we have to live together for the rest of our lives. She wants me to be independent and to have my own life. But, as Mick Jagger pointed out, we don’t always get what we want.
