Page 67 of The Reboot
Christine nodded. ‘We really were second-class citizens. And what happened to single mothers back then was barbaric.’
‘It was so cruel,’ Loretta said sadly. ‘It’s scary to think what could have happened if Mum and Dad hadn’t supported me when I got pregnant with Roly. It’s not even that long ago, but it was a very different time.’
‘It was the same with widows and deserted wives – if you didn’t have a man, you were nobody. We were fortunate that Jim – that’s Roly’s grandfather – worked in Guinness’s. They looked after their employees and their families, including their widows and orphans.’
No wonder she still liked to live in the shelter of the brewery, Ella thought.
‘Anyway, enough about the bad old days,’ Christine said brightly.
‘Yes, let’s talk about something more cheerful,’ Loretta said. ‘We don’t want to scare poor Ella off.’
‘Oh no, I’m really interested,’ Ella said, smiling at Christine.
‘I knew you two would hit it off,’ Roly said. ‘Ella’s a bit of a feminist too,’ he told his nan.
‘What do you mean, “a bit of a feminist”?’ she gasped. ‘You make it sound like it’s something I dabble in at weekends.’
‘Okay, okay.’ He grinned, holding up his hands. ‘You’re an all-round full-time bra-burning feminist, like Nan. Well, maybe without the bra-burning bit because I doubt you’ve ever done that. Did you know that’s not just an expression?’ he asked her, wide-eyed. ‘People actually did that.’
‘Yes, I know,’ she said with a laugh.
‘Well, these two are sick of hearing about my rebel days. But if you’re really interested, you should come to my knitting group, Ella. It’s a few of my friends from back then. They’ve got some stories!’
‘I can’t knit,’ she said regretfully.
‘Oh, that doesn’t matter. We’d teach you. If you’d like to learn, that is.’
‘I’d love to!’
‘And we don’talwaysknit,’ she said, shooting her daughter a sly smile. ‘Sometimes we paint placards and make banners.’
Ella was glad she’d caved in and finally accepted the invitation to dinner with Roly’s family. The food was delicious and the conversation flowed easily. They talked about the miracle of good weather coinciding with a bank holiday, and what they were watching on TV – they were all fans of theGreat British Bake OffandQueer Eye.
‘I’m always telling Mum she should go onBake Off,’ Roly said.
‘You should,’ Christine told her daughter.
‘I’m not sure I could cope with the cameras.’
‘I’d love to have a makeover from the Fab Four,’ Ella said. ‘Well… maybe not Karamo so much. He’d probably make me do the climbing wall at work to confront my fear or something.’
‘Mum’s brilliant at doing makeovers,’ Roly said.
‘Not that I think you need it,’ Loretta said to Ella. ‘You look lovely. But if you’d like any advice about clothes or make-up, I’d be happy to help.’
‘Thanks. That’s really kind, and I might take you up on it. I’ve kind of lost my mojo.’
‘Roly told us you’d been sick.’
Whenever she talked about her M.E., Ella braced herself for a whole range of responses – casual dismissal, benign ignorance, outright hostility, well-meaning suggestions about doing yoga or trying herbs. To her relief they were sympathetic, but matter of fact about it.
‘My friend Maureen’s daughter has that,’ Loretta said. ‘It’s an awful thing.’
‘The worst of it is the doctors!’ Christine said. ‘It was ages before she got one to take her seriously. A lot of them treated her like she was just malingering.’ She pursed her lips, shaking her head. ‘But you’re all right now?’ she asked Ella.
‘Yes, thank you. I’m one of the lucky ones.’
‘That’s great. And you’ve plenty of time to go back to your studies and pick up where you left off.’
