Page 60 of The Art of Loving You

‘I feel that …’ She inhaled slowly, then released the air in one long exhale. ‘I felt that I’d let you down, right from the start. Most of your friends had two parents, oh I know times have changed now and “blended families” are the norm but then … It was hard. On my own. I hated leaving you to the care of others after school but I had to work. I didn’t want to claim benefits. I wanted you to see that women could be breadwinners. Strong. Only … only you stopped seeing me somewhere along the way. You became your own little unit of two, and clever … goodness …’ She gave a high laugh. ‘You were both far cleverer than me. Over dinner you’d chatter about your friends, your teachers. As you grew, your social life expanded and my world … my world was so small. I had nothing to say and so I began to talk about my customers because their lives were far more interesting than mine.’

She slowly turned her head to face me, eyes searching for understanding, a seedling unfurling to seek out sunshine when it knows it could instantly be crushed.

Everything inside me softened. ‘Oh, Mum.’ It was desperately sad that I’d known so little and assumed so much.

‘I need you both so much. You girls. You’re so inspiring. You don’t need anyone.’

‘I do.’ My voice broke. ‘Jack.’

‘YouwantJack, of course you do, my darling, but you don’tneedanyone. You’re strong. Stronger than I ever was.’

‘I don’t feel it, Mum. Sometimes … sometimes I think he’s still here.’ I wanted to open up to her the way she had to me.

‘That’s perfectly natural, sweetheart.’

‘Is it?’ I sniffed hard.

‘Yes. Michelle Walker told me …’ There was a beat. ‘When your grandad died, I could hear him for a good few days. “Don’t cry, Caroline. Turn that frown upside down.” In my mind. As clear as a bell.’

‘What happened?’

‘I don’t know. I suppose he gradually faded away.’

A whimper sprang from my throat.

‘I don’t mean I forgot him, Libby. I mean that I found a way to … be without him. To carry on. Eventually, to move on. You will too and … I’m sorry you’ve thought that I’m not as interested in your lives as I am in others. I know you’ve always needed—’

‘You.’ I rested my head on her shoulder. Out of my peripheral vision I could see Alice do the same on the other side. ‘We’ve both always needed you. To know you.’

‘Yes,’ said Alice. ‘I really don’t care that Michelle Walker always gives a sausage roll to her dog when she buys a pack of four.’

‘Her daughter, Hope, became a pole dancer you know,’ I said, recalling the comment Mum had made when Jack told her I’d been entered into The Hawley Foundation Prize.

‘Seriously?’ Alice said.

‘She makes a fortune apparently,’ Mum said. ‘She’s got massive boobs like her mum. It’s probably all the flaky pastry they eat.’

Her shoulders shook, my shoulders shook, but this time not through crying but laughing.

That afternoon was full of frank conversations. Unanswered questions were resolved even if Alice refused to tell us who the baby’s father was. We learned a lot about Mum, viewing our childhood through her lens.Many tears were shed. Mum’s. Alice’s. Mine.

‘I’d like you to come with my for my scan next week, Mum.’ Alice glanced over at meis that ok?and I smiled backthat’s a lovely idea.

‘Are you sure? Weren’t you going, Libby? Could we all—’

‘You go. Meet your grandchild. I’ve a lot to do. I … I’ve been talking to Sid and I’ve decided to start work on renovating this place.’ Until I said it aloud I hadn’t realised I’d come to a final decision. ‘I’m not going to put myself under pressure, it’s pretty overwhelming and I’m not committing to opening the centre right now but … one room at a time.’

‘Libby. That’s … you see? You’re amazing,’ Mum said.

‘I haven’t done anything yet.’

‘But you will. Can we help?’ Alice asked.

‘Thanks, but I need to figure this out on my own.’

For Jack.

One square at a time.

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