Page 24 of The Notecard
‘You look nice. Going somewhere special?’ says Dotty to Mum.
‘On a date. With Michael,’ says Mum. ‘I’m so nervous.’
‘Sit down and I’ll give you some advice,’ says Dotty.
Dear Dotty, the advice columnist, is in the house. Mum walks across to the sofa with Dotty and they sit down. I keep making tea. I dread to think of the advice Dotty is giving her. I’m stirring the tea bags around the cups and I’m thinking about Meg and the notecard. Maybe now is the time to do something. Maybe it’s time to seize the day. Carpe Diem! She choked, I saved her life, and she sent me a wonderful notecard. If there was ever a day to seize it was this one. Mum’s going on a date with Michael, Meg is across the hall, and nothing is stopping me. Nothing but my stupid fear of failure. But Meg almost died choking on a grape. Life is short. Mum looks like a librarian and is going on a date with an Eighties pop sensation. Surely these are all signs from the universe that I must strike while the iron is hot. While I’m stirring the tea bags, I decide something. I’m going to write her a notecard. I have a few left from last Christmas. I’m going to write her a notecard and tell her how I feel. I walk back into the living room with the tea, just as Dotty says this to Mum.
‘Just don’t go giving him everything on the first date. Men need to be kept waiting or they get bored. Trust me. A kiss, yes, maybe let him touch a boob, give him a taste of what's to come. But nothing south of the river. Make him work for the full circus,’ says Dotty.
To my surprise, Mum just says.
‘Right, thanks for the advice, Dotty.’
‘Tea!’ I say walking into the room, thinking about my mother offering Michael just a boob but definitely nothing south of the river. I suppose that’s a comforting thought. Nothing south of the river. Make him work for the full circus. My mother has a full circus. Jesus.
Meg
Hugh is doing a few more of his stand-up bits for us, and we all laugh. He is very good. Keri watches from the entrance to the kitchen. She’s still making her gourmet baked beans on toast.
‘I think we should let Hugh go now,’ I say.
‘We still need to discuss the hen weekend,’ says Laura.
‘When and what are you thinking?’ I say.
I’m dreading the hen weekend if I’m honest. Laura can be unbearably self-centred and selfish at the best of times. An entire weekend dedicated just to her will be awful.
‘Late July,’ says Laura. ‘I’m thinking a spa retreat.’
‘We’ve found a lovely one in the Cotswolds, Megs,’ says Mum. ‘It’s gorgeous. A big country estate. It’s like Downton Abbey.’
‘Very expensive,’ adds Laura.
‘Sounds good,’ I say, hoping she’s not going to make me pay for it.
There’s a pause, and Laura’s face gradually hardens. It’s a face I have come to know well over the years. I call it her papier mâché face.
‘We need to talk about the elephant in the room,’ says Laura, a crisp bitterness in her voice.
‘There’s an elephant?’ says Mum.
‘Of course there’s an elephant. Keep up, Mum,’ says Laura tersely.
‘It’s my travelling plans, isn’t it?’ I say.
‘I just don’t understand why you’re doing it now. You know what’s going to happen. As soon as people find out, they’ll be asking all about it. At the wedding, it will be all about you shooting off around the world on your big adventure. You couldn’t let me have my one day without making it all about you, could you, Meg?’
‘This has got nothing to do with you, Laura.’
I’m so annoyed with her. I let a lot of things she says go, and ignore much of her nastiness, but this has got nothing to do with her. My travelling plans are about me. They’re what I want to do for me. For my life. For my mental health. I need this, and all she thinks is that I’m doing it to take the limelight away from her. I couldn’t care less about the limelight. She can have all the bloody limelight she wants.
‘Oh please, come on,’ says Laura.
‘Girls,’ says Mum.
‘I want to go away because I need to do it for me,’ I say.
‘And it just so happens you’re going away right after my wedding. So for the next five months it’s going to be my wedding and your travelling plans. I wanted this year to be about me.’
