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Forthe first timeDaisysaw her as a woman rather than simply her mother.Andshe saw whatMarionhad hinted at; that her mother was a woman in her own right and was entitled to friends and a private life of her own, separate from that of the role of mother.What’smore, she had suffered the death of not only her husband, but her only sister too.Shemust have been lonely. ‘So, tell me about him,’ she said reluctantly, concentrating on plucking dandelions from the neglected lawn. ‘Wheredid you meet and is he nice to you?’
Janexplained she’d metColinin theSeaSprayCafé. ‘He’dordered a slice of lemon drizzle and so hadIand there was only one left so we ended up sharing.Wehad an enormous pot of tea, a couple of scones as well, had a mild disagreement about which to put on first, jam or cream and spent the rest of the time talking.Tracyhad to remind us she was shutting up as we hadn’t noticed the time.Heinsisted on paying for the lot and we carried on talking as we walked back to his car.’Janpaused. ‘Inanswer to your question, he’s extremely nice.Niceis a good word for him,’ she glanced at her daughter, ‘althoughI’msure you think that’s boring.’
Daisythought of the dates she’d been on recently.Hadany of the men one iota of niceness she would have forgiven them a lot. ‘Actually,Mum,Idon’t.Ithink nice as a value is much underrated.Ishe niceto you?’
‘Very.’Jansmiled. ‘He’sthe first manI’velooked at since your dad.He’sdifferent of course.He’sa very different kind of man but he’s at a very different stage of life.SoamI,Isuppose.’
‘Howdoes it feel?’Daisyasked curiously.
‘Weird.Scary.Exciting.Alittle guilt-inducing.’Jansighed. ‘I’vebeen on my own and been happy on my own.Icame to terms with your dad’s death a long time ago andInever thoughtI’dmeet another man whoIcould see myself with.But, you know,Ihad a wonderful man in my life with your dad.Iwas so lucky to love and be loved.WhenIgot over the worst of the grief,’ she gaveDaisyanother quick look, ‘I’llnever stop missing your dad, you know that, but whenIfound my peace with the grief,Isort of hoped another love would come along.Whenyou’ve loved so happily once, it leaves you optimistic that it can happen again.Likehaving children,Isuppose.Youworry, having had one, that you’ll never find enough love for a second but your heart expands.Mylove for your dad, and the grief, is still in my heart butColin’ssqueezed in there too now.’
‘Itsounds serious.’
‘We’retaking it slowly.Seeingwhere it goes.He’sjust as sensitive about how his family feels asIam.’
‘Oh,Mum, why didn’t you tell me?YouknowIonly want you to be happy.’
‘I’msorry,Daisy.Ishould have.Itwas wrong of me.Butyou always seem to have so much on your plate,Ididn’t want to add worrying about me to the list.’
Daisyreached out a hand. ‘I’llalways worry about you.’
‘Welldon’t.I’mperfectly happy.’
‘Sowhen doIget to meet thisColin?’
‘Soon.Wouldyou like that?’
‘Ofcourse!’
‘Andwe’ll take your dad some flowers soon.Justyou andI.Upto the cemetery.Tomark the anniversary.JustbecauseI’mwithColinnow doesn’t meanI’veforgotten your dad.I’vejust tucked the grief aside to make room for some affection from someone new.Itdoesn’t meanIlove your dad any less or miss him any less either.Theheart’s got a remarkable capacity to expand and feel all sorts of complicated emotions and all at the same time.’
‘Deal.AndIunderstand,’Daisyadded, tears clogging the back of her throat. ‘I’llmake the biggest bouquetIcan.Allof your favourites; roses, lilies, gerbera, some gyp.Howdoes that sound?’
‘Thatwould be lovely, chickadee.I’llhave a think about what went in my bridal bouquet.’Janpressed her lips together, also on the edge of tears. ‘Itwould be a nice gesture, wouldn’t it?’
‘Itwould.’
Theysat in silence for a moment, digesting all that had been said.
Daisythrew an uneaten sandwich crust at the gull which had returned, looking at once optimistic and vaguely threatening.Itwas a herring gull, a huge snowy white and pale-grey bird, majestic in its own way.Shestared at it, thinking. ‘Mum,’ she said eventually, just asMarionstaggered back under the weight of a tray bearing the bottle ofProsecco, three clinking glasses and the inevitable packet of biscuits.
‘Yes, chick?’
‘Ifyou get married again,I’mfirst in line to do the flowers, right?’Shewas trying to lighten the conversation, hide the hurt in her heart.Itwas a big thing to think of her mother with another man.
ItmadeJanlaugh.Shethrew a handful of grass at her daughter.
‘Who’sgetting married?’Marionput the tray down.
‘Digestives,Maz?WithProsecco?’Daisyfeigned outrage.
‘WhatcouldIdo, darling?Nota cracker or a smidgen of cheese in there.Digestivebiscuits to go with the fizz, the sunshine, and the mother and daughterreunion.’Shenarrowed her eyes at them as she sank onto the blanket. ‘Youhave made up?OrhaveIto do whatIused to withBritandCassiusand make you hug it out?’
‘Wehadn’t argued,’Daisyreplied, ‘but yes, we’ve talked things through and we’re all good.Now, you going to open that bottle before it warms up?’
‘Withthese nails, sweetie?’Marionspread her fingers and admired her latest shellacs, a silvery blue in colour. ‘Noton your nelly.Youknow,Jan, with your new relationship status, you could really do with getting onAggie’ssex for the silver-hairedblog.You’dpick up lots of great lifestyle hints.’
‘Marion!’Motherand daughter exclaimed in unison.
