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“That’s great, Mum. I’m so happy for you.”
She glances at her watch. “Hey, it’s just gone half eight. What are you doing back? Did you finish work early tonight?”
“No, I got the sack.”
Her mouth drops open. “Oh no! What happened?”
With a non-committal shrug, I flop down on a beanie bag and cross my legs. “Mr Indrani said I wasn’t good enough. I kept being late and wasn’t great at table service. Also, I dropped a bottle of champers over this group of guys and that was kind of the final straw. So, it’s back to the old drawing board in terms of finding another job.”
There’s an awkward pause. Then swiftly, my mother’s cheerful mood returns, and she tells me not to worry, life is too short to be depressed. Grabbing both my hands, she pulls me to my feet and spins me around in time to the music. Her playfulness is infectious and soon we’re both dancing around the room and laughing hysterically in a haze of sweet delirium. In the pit of my stomach, however, I’m still feeling a little sick.
Moments like this are golden but also tinged with sadness because I can’t help but wonder how much longer my mother’s fragile health can hold on for. Will she survive this time around or will she suddenly be taken away from me? The thought of losing one of the two people I love most in the world completely destroys me and the worry of it stalks me day and night. My mother is my best friend, the woman I most admire, and I can’t even begin to imagine a life without her. If she passes away, how will we cope? The thought of it is utterly inconceivable.
To make matters worse, there’s no one around I can talk to about my concerns. I don’t have any close friends I trust enough to confide in, and Cynthia has banned all conversation about her health for fear of upsetting Freddie. As a result, we’re never allowed to address the elephant in the room and must only focus on happy things. Even the subject of my firing is not something to be dwelled upon for long. No, we must all put on a brave face and keep up the cheerful charade, even though deep down inside playing pretend is killing me.
“Jess, have you seen my model Porsche?” Freddie cuts in, holding up one of his toy cars. “Don’t you think it’s really cool?”
“Yes, it’s wonderful, Freddie.”
“Do you like it? Really and truly?”
“Yes, that’s one cool set of wheels. But, Kiddo, shouldn’t you be in bed by now? It’s almost nine o’clock.”
He juts out his bottom lip. “But I don’t want to go to bed yet. I want to finish playing with my cars! Mum, Jess is trying to make me go to bed. Do I have to?”
“Do as your sister says,” Cynthia admonishes humorously. “She’s right. It’s long past your bedtime. Sorry Jess, this is all my fault. I should have been getting him ready for bed ages ago, but I got so caught up with this painting, the time just flew by.”
I roll my eyes.God, what is she like?Sometimes she acts like such a big kid I’m certain if it wasn’t for me, she’d let my brother stay up until the early hours. It often feels like I’m the only one in this house trying to establish any sort of routine. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. By now, I should be used to how scatter-brained Cynthia is. After all, I’ve been playing parent since I was eleven years old.
“Come on Kiddo, time for beddy-bye. Let’s go.” Gently, I take Freddie’s hand and lead him to the bathroom to clean his teeth. Setting my stopwatch, I count each second out loud to ensure he brushes for precisely two minutes (a little trick I’ve learnt to get him to clean his teeth thoroughly). Then I help him put on his pyjamas and tuck him into bed.
“Jess?” Freddie asks before the lights go out.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“If I’m a really good boy, do you think Father Christmas will bring me a Super Nintendo? My friend Ollie has gotSuper Mario Worldon the Nintendo and I want one too because I love Super Mario Bros.”
I stifle a smirk. Sometimes he’s so damn adorable it makes me want to weep. With his mop of red hair, snub nose and freckles, he’s the spitting image of my mother only twice as cute.
“Christmas is a long way off,” I say. “But sure, I don’t see why not. If you’re a really good boy, Father Christmas will bring you anything you want, as long as he can afford it. Sometimes Father Christmas has a tight budget to work with, you know. And sometimes Father Christmas and the elves may not be able to get you stuff that is always brand new, so the Nintendo might be second-hand, but it will work just as good.”
“Cool. I just want one, I don’t care if it isn’t new.”
“Good. Well, keep being a good boy and I’m sure it will happen.”
“Jess, is today Friday 6thFebruary?” he asks, changing the subject.
“Yes.” I smile inwardly, knowing what comes next. It’s the same routine every single night and I enjoy playing along. “Today is Friday 6thFebruary.”
“And is Friday 6thFebruary the 37thday of the year?”
“Um, I’m not sure, I don’t have a calendar to hand, but I bet you’re right. You’re always right.”
Freddie sits up excitedly, warming to his topic. “Yes, I am right, I know because I counted it on my fingers, and I also know this year is not a leap year so there will only be 28 days in February. And tomorrow is Saturday 7thFebruary so that will be the 38thday of the year, and then Sunday 8thwill be the 39thday of the year…”
“All right, Kiddo,” I soothe, pulling the blankets up to his chin. “Enough of that. Time to go sleepies.”
“Goodnight, Jess. I love you.”
