Page 22 of Riding the High Road

‘Look,’ she says after a few minutes. ‘Spiky teeth.’

‘Epic, can I have a bit?’

She hands me some pepper and I cut a couple of yellow squiggles.

‘Snot for nose.’

‘Ew!’ She frowns proper disapproval. Guessing she’s still mad at me?

I lay half a mushroom in the centre of the pizza, position the pepper snot. Start cutting courgette eyes.

‘I think Emily’s jealous, that’s why she wouldn’t come in.’ Fran slices a stuffed olive.

‘Jealous?’ I feel myself flush red as the pizza-face.

Grace comes in just as our creations are ready for the oven. She dumps her shopping and comes up behind Fran to give her a hug. She’s like half Fran’s height now, standing on tiptoe to see over Fran’s shoulder.

‘Wow, monster pizzas. Fabulous!’

Fran stands back, all admiration. Hers looks designer scary with its jalapeño olive eyeballs and spiky pepper hair and teeth. Mine looks a pile of crap, of course, but I don’t compete where art’s concerned.

‘We used to make them like this with Pat when we were little,’ Francesca explains.

‘She always out-did me on the home-baked mum front.’ Grace finishes unpacking M&S ready meals and slams the freezer door shut. ‘I’ve just bumped into her, as it happens. On my way back from meeting Seb. She, of course, was stunned to hear he’d turned up at all?’

I tense up. ‘Yeah, Fran said you’re getting married. Mega pleased for you.’

Grace shoots a killer look at Fran, who literally flinches with the impact.

‘Mum, I didn’t say,’ Fran passes the glare to me with interest.

Oh Fuck, Here I Go Again.

‘Sorry, I think it was Emily mentioned it. I didn’t think…?’ When in doubt, blame Emily?

‘I only told Emily that Dad asked you.’ Fran slides the pizzas into the oven.

‘It’s not a state secret or anything, babe.’ Grace moves to put the kettle on. ‘But I could do without the world and his girlfriend either marrying me off or telling me I’m wasting my time, when we’re just after a bit of space to work things out.’ She gives us both a stern look.

‘Anyway, whatever, I hope it works out for you and Sebbie,’ I say to fill the awkwardness. ‘I know Mum has her views, but that doesn’t mean…?’

‘It’s OK, Gethin.’ Grace spoons some coffee into a mug. ‘Pat is just Pat. She wants you to get in touch, by the way.’

‘And she’s mentioned how she produced a letter from my sperm donor with literally no warning at my birthday meal?’ My voice rises with irritation.

‘She thinks you need to talk, that’s all, love.’ She finishes making her drink, leans up against the counter.

Grace is a cool lady, and you can forget she’s your mate’s mum as well as your mum’s mate. No chance of that now, however.

‘I can’t talk to her. There’s no point,’ I start.

Grace runs her hand through her silky dark hair. ‘Well, I think she wants to try, maybe?’

‘Ever since I dropped out of sixth form, it’s like, Oh Gethin, why won’t you talkto me. But then I told her one time I was thinking of getting a job in a shop and she’s like, is that how you see your future?’ I kick at a piece of mushroom on the floor. Centre it with a tile and squash it with my foot. ‘She’s never got over me ditching this bollocks about being an Astrophysicist. Pretty much because I liked mapping stars and read that Stephen Hawkins when I was like twelve?’

‘Hey, you were really keen. All about red shifting galaxies and shit,’ Fran interrupts.

‘I’m not saying it’s not interesting,’ I squish the mushroom harder. ‘Just don’t necessarily want to be the next fucking Einstein. Could be I’m just not enough of a boffin, know what I mean?’

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