Page 70 of The Love of Our Lives
‘Here you are,’ she says, coming over with a bowl of something delicious smelling, and I look down to see a thick red-ish broth.
‘Thank you,’ I say.
She sits down with her own across from me, some buttery baguette slices on the plate in front of her.
‘Would you mind if I stole one of those?’ I say, without thinking.
Jackie stares at me quizzically for a moment, before pushing the plate across. ‘Of course. Edinburgh’s clearly been quite the change for you, then.’
I swallow nervously, before starting to eat.
‘This soup tastes . . . like I’m nine years old,’ I say eventually, and Jackie smiles.
‘You always did love minestrone.’
I take a breath. ‘Do you know when they’ll be back? Mum and Dad, I mean?’
‘In a few weeks, I’d imagine. That’s the usual really, as you well know.’
‘I see.’
‘So tell me,’ Jackie says, ‘what happened between you and your mother?’
I pause, as I remember the awfulness of it, those all-consuming feelings of anger and frustration. I don’t even have to lie.
‘She wanted me to go back to my old life but I wanted to stay,’ I say eventually.
‘So why are you back then?’
‘I told you,’ I say, not quite meeting her eye. ‘Fran’s wedding.’
‘Are you sure that’s it?’
‘Yes,’ I say, but my voice is wavering.
A silence settles.
‘You were always such a dreamer when you were younger, you know?’ Jackie says finally.
‘I’ve heard that before,’ I say wryly.
‘Yup, you were four years old when I started working here, after my Colin passed, and, oh boy, you were always in a world of your own. Always drawing and creating things. Always taking pictures with those—’
‘Disposables,’ I say softly.
‘That’s right. You said they captured real moments better, even as an adult.’
Her face falls slightly. ‘But then you started at that fancy school and everything became serious so quickly. Homework every day for hours, it was all work, work, work, even at the age of five. And suddenly, all those fun activities disappeared. That dreamer disappeared.’
‘But why?’ I say. ‘Why did Mum hate it so much?’
‘She didn’t hate it; she just thought it was frivolous,’ Jackie says steadily. ‘She wanted to give you the big life she never had – she was determined to. Poverty does strange things to people, and your mum really did come into a tough version of the world. Do you know that she used to work three jobs before she met your father? Including one in a fish factory, if you can possibly believe it.’
I shake my head. ‘I didn’t know that.’
‘So, now you do,’ Jackie says firmly. Then softer. ‘She only ever wanted the best for you.’
‘Funny way of showing it,’ I say, as I fiddle with the spoon in the soup bowl. I pause. ‘Doyouthink I should come back then?’
