Page 135 of The Dead Ex
Breakingout into a run, I make for the coffee shop where I’d left Mum. Shit. She’s not there.
Where is she? I try to put myself in her shoes. Then I get it! Bet she’s outside the court, keen to hear the verdict. Running out – almost knocking into a passer-by – I head back to the large concrete building with its gracious Grecian columns. There are still loads of people there, including a TV crew. No wonder.A disgraced public name. A missing husband. It all made a good story. And then I hear a familiar voice.
‘Vicki Goudman was the bitch who stopped me being with my little girl.’
It’s Mum, talking to one of the journalists. She sounds drunk. ‘She was power-hungry, that woman. Never showed an ounce of pity …’
‘I think that’s enough.’ I take Mum firmly by the arm. ‘We need to go.’
‘But I was justtelling this nice gentleman here …’
‘What if she lets slip we were at the Goudmans’ house?’
‘I said we have to move it.’
‘Well, I’m not going back to any bleeding coffee shop. We need a drink to celebrate.’
When Mum’s in a mood like this, there’s no talking her out of it. Besides, I’m worried that if I argue with her, we’ll only attract more attention.
‘Just one. You know what the probationofficer said. If you get drunk and make a scene, you could go back Inside.’
Mum’s lips tighten. ‘Don’t be so boring. This is a great day! Justice has finally been done.’
We make our way to the nearest pub. There are lots of those little booths round the side and luckily we find an empty two-seater. I buy us each a small white wine.
‘Cheers,’ I say uncertainly.
She knocks it back in one. Thenshe makes a face. ‘Not as good as the last lot.’
‘What do you mean?’
She grins. ‘When you were at the bar just now, I helped myself to a couple of drinks that a couple left on that table over there.’
In the old days, three glasses wouldn’t have been enough for Mum to get smashed. But she doesn’t have the tolerance she used to.
‘Twenty years!’ Mum punches her hands in the air and hollers asif she’s just won something on one of the gaming machines behind. ‘Isn’t it great?’
‘Shhh.’ I glance around nervously in case there are any more journalists keen to know ‘the other side of the story’. ‘Come on. Let’s go home.’
‘You can if you want. But I’m not.’
I need to distract her. And there’s something I must ask before I lose my nerve. ‘Mum, when we ran out of Tanya’s house you took aminute or two to join me. What were you doing?’
Go on, I urge her silently. Tell me what you said before about being puffed and not keeping up.
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘Yes it does.’ I lean across the table and hold Mum’s cold, thin hand. ‘We’re a team, remember. We trust each other. But we can’t do that unless we’re honest. So tell me.’
Mum grips my hand back. ‘I can’t.’
‘You can,’ I say.
‘You won’t love me any more.’
There’s a heavy feeling in my chest. ‘Of course I will.’
‘I only did it for you, love. She deserved to get punished.’
