Page 87 of Don't You Forget About Me

‘If you want to help me then I wouldn’t mind a bit of faith and emotional support, thanks.’

‘Georgina, you’re still working in bars at thirty. You have no savings, no pension, no home. No relationship. What am I supposed to emotionally support, exactly?’

‘Me, as a person? Aren’t I enough?’ I say, pretending to be coolly in control and not on the verge of tears. ‘I’m happy.’

‘Areyou?’

‘Yes,’ I say, in a clipped voice.

‘And you should give some thought to giving Robin a second chance.’

‘You … what? Robin? Why? You couldn’t stand him.’

‘We ran into him in Waitrose, last week, week before last. We both reached for the same jar of peanut butter, hahaha! Didn’t he tell you?’

This causes my stomach to plummet. What the … my hands are immediately sweating on my phone and I grip it so tightly I think it might shatter. I can’t let her know what a nasty shock this is.

‘No, he didn’t.’

‘Oh, I thought he would have done. He explained how things had been quite casual between you and he’d upset you by saying so, you’d split up and now he really wants to commit. I think he means it, Georgina. Sometimes it takes the right woman to make a man grow up and settle down.’

The thought of this spectacle by the Condiments and Spreads aisle turns my stomach.

‘Why did he feel the need to tell you this?’

‘He felt we’d misunderstood his intentions towards you. He might not want you to know this but he’s really rathergooeyabout you. I didn’t realise what a solid family he’s from himself.’

‘How long were you talking for?’

‘Only five minutes. He seemed very pleased to see us.’

I bet.

‘Solid family’, HAH. He’s hinted he’s from a minted background and now Mum’s opinion of him has shot up. With Geoffrey, Robin’s appealed to his ego, shown due deference to their status as elders of this village. Now Robin has bent and scraped and begged for their approval, shared sensitive intel to sweeten the deal, they’re prepared to back his cause. The whole thing makes me want a scalding shower.

‘Mum,’ I say, forcing myself to concentrate, ‘Did you tell Robin where I was working at the moment? At The Wicker?’

‘Oh … I think it came up? Yes, yes it did, as we were discussing Geoff’s idea of making his offer to you. And youmightbe interested to hear that Robin think it’s fantastic too.’

Mum says this with a ‘ta-dah!’ rabbit out of the hat flourish. How could she not see they were being played? Whose personality turns 180 degrees like that? I could be sick. I make hasty excuses about being at work, when there’s five minutes left to the route, to churn on everything she’s said.

Oh, Lucas. You’re wise. Robin is malign. And, unless I make him, I don’t think he’s going to stop.

I’m in dire need of comic relief and The Wicker considerately supplies.

‘Steady as she blows!’ Devlin says as I dump my stuff behind the bar, as two men, knees bent, huffing and wheezing, drop a multicoloured Wurlitzer jukebox by the fireplace.

‘Where’s that on its way to?’ Lucas says, staring.

Dev slaps its flank and beams like a new father. ‘Isn’t she special?’

‘It is not gendered and no, it’s fucking hideous. What’s it for?’

Kitty and I exchange a ‘here we go’ delighted glance. McCarthy brother bickering is a constant.

‘Music!’

‘What next, a Sky Sports big screen?’ Lucas said. ‘Ugh. It means an endless soundtrack of Metallica and Girls Aloud.’

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