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Mum laughs. It’s a wet, snotty sort of sound and she sniffles, wiping tears off her face even as she smiles. ‘That sounds like something a child would say. What was that I just said, about you being old enough?’
‘No, I just – I mean …’
Well, yes, I did mean it like that, a bit.
‘You always look so in control of everything,’ I try to explain. ‘It’s weird to know you’re just – normal, underneath it all.’
‘Oh, darling. We all are.’
She moves over to the sofa again, but this time is more hesitant to hug me. So I turn towards her, hugging her back. She strokes my hair, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. My throat is thick, and I squeeze my eyes closed.
I think about how often Dad’s told me I’m like Mum, and maybe he was right after all. We’re like ducks: working so hard to look like we’re floating along, and kicking hell for leather under the water where nobody can see how much effort it takes.
Normal, underneath it all.
Mum takes me back home to the flat later that afternoon, despite my insistence that I’m alright to make my own way, and the cost of a taxi. She doesn’t bat an eye at the meter; I wonder if she ever does.
I can’t help but mention it. I think about the lavish hotel suite, the fancy products lined up in her bathroom, the extravagant use of taxis, and remember my argument with Lloyd about how she never contributed while I was growing up. It’s not that I wantcompensation; I just can’t work out why, if she did want to be involved like she said.
She frowns, but it’s confused more than anything else. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘I heard Dad on the phone to you, once. He said we didn’t need your money. He works as an exam invigilator and stuff sometimes, too, for the extra money.I’m not supposed to know, but I heard him talking to Gina about it once.’
Mum squints, trying to piece it together, then pulls a face at me.
‘I think he probably meant, he and Gina were coping alright without me contributing. He wanted me to set the money aside foryou. We used some of it to buy you a car, when you were learning to drive.’
‘What? No, but – that was from Gina’s friend. They were getting rid of it.’
‘Yes. But we paid them for it, obviously. They could’ve gotten a decent price at a garage for it. They weren’t justgivingit away.’
‘Oh.’
Did I know that? I must have known that, at least a bit. But Dad and Gina had never made a big deal of the car, so I’d never thought very much of it. I definitely hadn’t known Mum was involved.
Now, she picks up her phone, tapping at it almost absently. There’s an email open on the screen. Whatever it is, it’s so second-nature she’s only got half a mind on it. She tells me, equally casually, ‘The rest of it is in your trust, Anna.’
‘My – the – what?’
‘The trust fund,’ she clarifies, although that doesn’t really clarify anything at all.
‘I thought those only existed in, like, movies and stuff,’ I blurt. ‘Like in that one episode ofDerry Girls.’
She laughs. ‘Think of it as a protected bank account I’ve been paying into for you over the years. It’s yours when you turn twenty-one. Your dad and I – and Gina – agreed it was money better set aside for you, to help you set yourself up when you finished uni.’
I gawp, not sure what to say to that.
She smiles at me, apparently oblivious to the fact my brain seems to have stopped working. ‘Anyway! It’ll be a nice little nest egg for you, when you’re a bit older! Something to put towards a house deposit. I gave your dad some to put away for your brothers, too. Gina was a bit resistant at first, but – call it guilt money, I suppose. I know you’re close to them, so I didn’t want it to turn into a source of resentment down the line somewhere.’
‘Holy shit.’
‘Language, young lady,’ Mum says – almost teasing, like she’s mocking her own un-mum-ness.
But I just say again, ‘Holy shit,’ and she starts laughing, and hugs me close.
There’s someone lurking in the corridor outside my flat.
I startle to a stop, only halfway out of the lift. Lloyd’s head jerks up at the same time.
