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‘Whatisit, young man?’ She waved the vape tantalisingly close to his face but he didn’t even try to grab it this time.
‘It’s a filthy habit,’ he mumbled.
‘Aha! Yes! Give this boy a gold star. Now... if you know what’s good for you, my lad, you’ll dump the entire caboodle in that bin over there and proceed to live a happy, healthy life. Emphasis being on the wordhealthy.’
With a humourless smile, she held up the vape and dropped it from a height. Startled, its owner sprang forward, only just managing to catch it in time, at which point his tormentor turned and marched off.
It would have been a really rather impressive exit had she not managed to trip over her own feet, staggering slightly to one side amid much guffawing from behind her.
‘Oops.’ I held my breath as she managed to regain her composure.
‘Did you see that?’ she snapped, joining us at the café entrance. ‘Boy was barely out of his night-time training pants.’
Blossom grinned. ‘And of course you couldn’t possibly have just walked past without sticking your oar in.’
‘No, of course not.’ She glared at Blossom. ‘Someonehas to take action against this terrible new teenage fad.’
She turned to me, lips twisted in a frown. ‘And I suppose I’ve embarrassed you.’
Sighing, I flicked my eyes to the sky. ‘Not really. I’m well used to it by now.’ I held the door wide and ushered her in. ‘Let me buy you a coffee, Mother.’
*****
‘Please don’t call me “Mother” – you know it makes me feel ancient. Let’s sit over there.’ Ignoring where we were already sitting, Ada marched to a table with a view over the green and plonked herself down, leaving Blossom and me to move the crockery and cutlery over.
She raised her eyebrows at Blossom. ‘Get me my usual, will you?’
‘No problem.’ Blossom grinned. ‘Any cake with that? I can thoroughly recommend the lemon drizzle with whipped cream. And Rori’s triple chocolate brownie looked absolutely melt-in-the-mouth gorgeous.’
Receiving just a curled lip in reply, as she knew she would, Blossom winked at me and went over to the counter to order.
I watched Ada hunt in her handbag, I presumed for her sweeteners. There was a reason she was sylph-like and elegant, and often mistaken for a woman in her forties (she was fifty-seven). She never snacked between meals and only seemed to pick at her food when she did sit down to eat. The thought of her plunging her fork with relish into a slice of lemon drizzle cake was quite unimaginable.
I often marvelled at how my sister, a self-employed gardener, could have lived with Ada her whole life without ever once being tempted to slip something herbal and possibly ever-so-slightly poisonous into her morning tea. But I knew the answer, really. Blossom had the sunniest, most level-tempered nature of anyone I knew. (She was the only member of our family who actually deserved the ‘Sunshine’ surname. It was a cliché, but she literally lit up a room when she entered it.) She had a talent for accepting people for exactly who they were, and not judging, and I think she felt sorry for Ada, who’d lived a haphazard sort of life. Blossom always seemed like the adult in that relationship.
‘So how are you, Ada?’ I shuffled my seat closer to the table. I knew I wouldn’t get an honest answer but I asked the question anyway.
‘Perfectly fine, thank you.’ She directed the comment through the window, while continuing to fumble in her bag and keeping a beedy eye on the group of schoolboys. They were now amblingover the green as if they had all the time in the world and weren’t due in class in about a minute and a half.
I stared at her profile, swallowing down my bitterness.
How about asking how I am, Ada? Showing just a little bit of concern for your daughter who’s just been through one of the worst times of her life?
When I’d fled to London to my Auntie Christine’s, she’d phoned Ada to tell her what had happened with Nash, and next day, Ada had called me to see if I was all right. But I’d known she wouldn’t want to hear the details of what I’d been through, so I just told her we’d split up and I was feeling down. She made a few brisk comments along the lines of: well, life was never supposed to be fair; and hadn’t I heard the theory that what didn’t kill you made you stronger? In the end, I changed the subject and we talked about the weather and her latest protest.
The exchange left me feeling rather hollow and sad. Not that I was surprised. But shouldn’t a mum be the person you instinctively turned to when you were feeling bad? Instead, it had been Auntie Christine who’d wrapped her arms around me and told me everything would be okay. Ada hadn’t exactly said,for goodness’ sake, stop being a wimp, Rori, and get on with it!But she might as well have...
I felt sorry for Geoffrey. He couldn’t help not being Antonio.
He enjoyed visiting garden centres at weekends, and I had high hopes that his placid nature and kindness would rub off on her. According to Blossom, he was already having an effect. She didn’t seem quite so frantic about her good causes as she used to be, and she and Geoffrey were even planning a coach tour to Spain in the summer, something that seemed so out of character, I thought Blossom was joking when she first told me.
I hoped Ada would hold onto Geoffrey. He was good for her.
To my relief, Blossom got served quickly and was back at the table even before the sweeteners had been located – a taskwhich, to Ada, was clearly of far greater importance than talking to her emotionally vulnerable daughter, whose life had recently been turned upside down! (Not that I was bitter or anything.)
I wasn’t going to mention Nash but Blossom started talking about how lovely Milo had been, taking me in and helping me and giving me a job when I was in in such a bad way. Ada listened without comment, sipping on her black coffee and glancing out of the window every now and again with a stern expression.
I could feel the familiar resentment creeping over me. Blossom always said Ada’s cold aloofness was a defence mechanism. She’d been hurt herself too often and preferred to distance herself from emotional anguish, particularly where her daughters were concerned. And I could see Blossom’s point. But it didn’t stop me wishing Ada could be like other mothers and just put her arms around me and hug me for once in her life.
