Losing You (9 page)

Deciding, for the sake of her own sanity, to put the last few minutes behind her or she’d be planning her ex-husband’s hasty dispatch until gone midnight, she carried her meagre dinner into the sitting room and turned on the TV. A quick catch-up with the news, maybe an episode of
Corrie
, then she’d return to her computer to see if she could conjure some enthusiasm or inspiration from the hundreds of jobs she’d already pored over at least a dozen times. There was always the chance, she supposed, that some little quirk of imagination would kick in to show her why she was just the right person for the position of construction site manager, or even a personal banking advisor – ha, ha, or lol as Lauren would say.

Polly’s suggestion was definitely feeling like a pretty good one, provided she possessed the skills to make a go of it, of course, and she was also going to give more thought to something she’d discussed with Berry earlier. She’d started her first little empire with nothing more than a sandwich round, so maybe she could pull it off again. There was a business park a couple of miles down the road, so perhaps she’d take a drive down there tomorrow to get the lie of the land. It had to be worth a try, anything did,
if only to light a spark of optimism in the gloomy little backwater that her world now seemed to be.

‘Mum! Hey, it’s me,’ Lauren cried into the phone. ‘Have you been trying to get hold of me?’

Forcing herself awake, Emma said groggily, ‘What time is it?’

‘Just after half ten. Sorry, were you asleep?’

Emma’s expression turned wry as she looked around. ‘At the kitchen table in front of the computer,’ she admitted, wincing as she stretched her neck, ‘so you did me a favour. Is everything OK? Where are you?’

‘At Granny Berry’s. She’s decided to fly back from Italy tomorrow instead of next week, so I’ve come round to turn up the heating. Anyway, I’m ringing because we’ve just posted some new stuff on YouTube. I’ve emailed you the links already. There’s one of me and Donna on our guitars doing Suzanne Vega’s “Marlene on the Wall”, which is one of Granny’s favourites, so I’ve emailed her too. Then there’s a couple of Skye and Matilda doing their Brahms violin concerto in D minor, and they’re both absolutely brilliant. And wait till you hear Salina Buck singing
“Ritorna vincitor!”
, you know, from
Aida
. Mum, she is totally awesome. She is so going to blow us all away when we do our performance exams.’

Smiling as she clicked on to the website, Emma said, ‘Did Melissa get hold of you? I think she must have been trying while you were recording.’

‘Oh yeah, I called her back about ten minutes ago. She wants me to pick up some strings for her guitar at the shop on King’s Road, which is fine. She also wanted to talk about what we’re doing at the weekend, but the thing is, Mum, I’ve got a ton of work to do, plus Dad’s offering to pay me to babysit for him and Jem on Saturday night, so if it’s all right with you, I thought I’d skip this weekend.’

Having feared this would happen, though not in the least prepared to face it so soon, Emma heard her voice shake slightly as she said, ‘That’s OK. I know how busy you are.’

‘Oh, you do mind, don’t you? I knew you would. It’s OK, I’ll come home like we planned.’

‘No, no, no. I understand how much revision you have and if you’ve already promised Dad ...’

‘Oh, Mum, I feel really terrible now. Is it awful being there on your own?’

‘Of course not. I’m so busy I hardly notice most of the time. And Polly’s coming over on Saturday. We’re going to work on a new project together.’

‘Sounds interesting. Are you going to tell me what it is?’

‘It can wait. Is someone there with you? I thought I heard voices.’

‘Uh, it’s just the telly. Hang on.’ There were some muffled sounds as she presumably searched for the remote control, then she came back on the line saying, ‘So the car’s OK and Dad says he’s going to reimburse you for the repair.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Cool.’ Lauren started to laugh.

Puzzled, Emma said, ‘What’s funny?’

‘Nothing. No, it’s just ... Oh my God, stop ... Sorry, Mum, it’s ... Actually, I should ring off. Are you sure you don’t mind about the weekend?’

‘Of course not.’ What else could she say? Lauren was eighteen now, had a life of her own and a punishing set of exams ahead of her. ‘Actually, before you go, have you heard about these golden angels?’

‘These what? Oh God, Mum, I’m really, really sorry ... We’ll speak in the morning, OK?’ and she was gone.

Thrown, Emma rang off too and sat staring at the computer where Salina Buck, one of Lauren’s outstandingly gifted friends, was poised ready to sing. Not quite ready to hear it yet, Emma got to her feet and went to put on the kettle. It was so unlike Lauren to be abrupt that she still couldn’t quite get a handle on it. Maybe she should call back to make sure everything was OK, except she certainly hadn’t sounded as though anything was wrong. She’d seemed in quite high spirits, which was fine, excellent in fact, because why would she want her daughter to be any other way?

Picking up her mobile she sent Lauren a text.
Are you sure no one’s there with you?

She didn’t get a reply until early the next morning.
At Donna’s. Everyone’s here. Love you speak later
.

‘You know your trouble, you worry too much,’ Berry told her when they spoke on the phone later in the day. ‘I’m sure there’s absolutely nothing going on with Lauren, other than the usual mayhem of being eighteen, talented and as popular as she is pretty. In fact, considering all she’s been going through lately, moving house, her appalling workload, I’d say it’s a bit of a miracle she’s coping so well. Of course, she gets it from me. I’ve never been easily fazed either, whereas you, my darling, are your mother all over.’

Emma flinched. ‘Beryl, that was just mean,’ she accused.

‘Beryl? Who is this person?’

‘The one who thinks she’s funny telling me I’m like a woman who can’t stand me.’

‘Oh, you do so exaggerate.’

Emma didn’t think so. ‘Anyway, the important thing is, you’re not worried about Lauren.’

‘Absolutely not. I admit I haven’t actually laid eyes on her since before Christmas, but from speaking to her almost daily I’d say the child is
en pleine forme
, as they say in Italy.’

‘That’s French.’

‘But it means the same thing. In fact, if there’s a teensy little problem at all, it’s that she’s worried about you, being down there all on your own in a house that I fear is too
piccolo
for me to get through the door.’

Emma gave a cry of protest. ‘I know she didn’t say that – and it’s not that small, nor are you that large. You just can’t bring yourself to be anywhere but Chelsea when you’re in this country, so be honest.’

‘At my age, and after all the travelling I’ve done, I know where I want to be, so why put myself through the torment of going anywhere else? Now, I want to hear that you’re coming to London for my exhibition. Oh yes, you already agreed, didn’t you? Must be getting Alzheimer’s. I shall pay for your rail ticket, of course,
and
the dinner we shall have afterwards. I’d let you choose the restaurant if I didn’t think you’d put me on a budget, so it’s probably best to leave that to me.’

‘Berry, you’re being too generous ...’

‘No, what I actually am is a very selfish sixty-something who very much likes to have things her own way.’

Emma had to smile, since her extremely unselfish grandmother was a very lively, and actually still quite glamorous, eighty-two and three quarters.

‘I really wouldn’t want my little masterpieces to be part of an exhibition if you didn’t come to see it,’ Berry ran on. ‘And having my darling Lauren around makes me happier than hashish, so you see it’s all about me really, and if it’s all about me, I think it’s only fair that I should pay. So I shall ask Lauren to go on to the website when she pops round later, and book your ticket. Are you feeling sufficiently bullied yet, or shall I go on?’

Laughing, Emma said, ‘You know very well I’d rather miss my own wedding than one of your shows, but ...’

‘Hang on, I’m not sure that’s quite the right answer.’

Still laughing, Emma waved to Mrs Dempster as she passed the window, saying, ‘I just want you to know that one of these days I’m going to pay you back for everything ...’

‘I thought I’d made myself clear. I’m doing all this for me, not you, so shall we move on? Or back, actually, because I rang your mother earlier, to invite her to the show, and we ended up having quite a long chat.’

The light in Emma’s eyes dimmed. ‘Do I want to know about this?’ she asked sourly.

‘I’m not sure, but she was keen to hear about how well you’re settling in down there in Wales ...’

‘Berry, I’m in North Somerset – or Bristol, according to the postcode.’

‘I knew it was somewhere in the west. Anyway, it brings me on to the question of why she doesn’t have your address.’

‘What do you mean? I sent her an email at the same time as I emailed everyone else.’

‘Well, you know what she’s like. She probably didn’t appreciate being one of the crowd. Anyway, she has it now, because I gave it to her.’

‘Frankly, I’m amazed she wants it.’

‘Emma.’

Emma stayed silent.

‘It’s true, your mother does have a funny way of showing her feelings at times, but you have to believe me when I tell you I know she has them.’

‘You and I have had this conversation so often over the years that it’s bewildering to me that we’re having it again.’

‘OK, then we shall change the subject. Phyllis, be gone. What news on the job front?’

Coming to detest that question, Emma emptied her lukewarm coffee into the sink as she said, ‘Nothing’s new, apart from a couple of ideas I’m playing with, one of which we discussed yesterday. The other is something Polly suggested, which I’m also quite keen on.’

‘Excellent, and if you need a little boost to help get you launched you know where to come. Now, I’m wondering who this belongs to,’ she ran on. ‘I know it’s not mine, and it can’t be Lauren’s because she texted me earlier.’

‘What is it?’

‘A mobile phone I’ve just found down the side of the sofa.’

‘Well, if it’s not yours or Lauren’s it must belong to one of her friends. Actually, I thought someone was there with her last night. Is there anything to identify it?’

‘No, the battery seems to be dead and there’s nothing on the casing. Oh well, I’m sure we’ll find out when its owner realises it’s missing. So, am I free to go now? Is your mind at rest about Lauren?’

‘More or less, unless you happen to know if she’s got a new boyfriend she’s decided not to tell me about.’

‘If she has then she hasn’t told me either, but looking the way she does and being as lovely as she is, I think we have to assume there’s always going to be someone. She is on the pill, I take it? At her age, she must be.’

‘Yes, she’s on the pill, but she only went on quite recently, I think because all her friends are on it, if only to be prepared.’

‘Mm, sounds wise. You know I was rather fond of Parker. It’s a shame she went off him.’

‘I think he’d agree with you on that, because he keeps texting wanting to see her.’

‘Poor love is probably totally heartbroken, and I fear he won’t be the only one to suffer such a fate at our darling girl’s hands.’

‘Not that we’re biased,’ Emma responded drily.

‘Not at all,’ Berry agreed.

Twenty minutes later, after making the bed and cleaning round the bathroom, Emma was back in front of her computer trying not to read too much into an unexpected message, and failing.
Just wanted to recommend a charming little book called
The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society.
If you haven’t already read it, I think you’ll enjoy it
.

Once again he hadn’t signed his name, but it was obviously from Philip Leesom and she could only wonder, since she hadn’t read the book, if it might contain some sort of allusive message for her to decipher or respond to, perhaps in a similar way. How bizarre, and even romantic, it could be to use passages from favourite books as billets-doux, and what an exciting challenge it would be trying to find the right one to recommend next. However, even if she was right, and she almost certainly wasn’t, there was simply no way she could enter into any sort of flirtation with one of Lauren’s teachers.

It was funny, but she’d never have imagined herself to be his type. There again, she’d never imagined everyone’s heart-throb, Will Scott, would single her out when they were at uni, but he had and had even gone on to marry her. And if ever there was a warning not to be taken in by looks and charm, that was most definitely it. She could already feel herself backing away, as well she might if she didn’t want to end up making a complete fool of herself. Philip Leesom had kindly recommended a book that he’d enjoyed, and she, sad little person that she was, was sitting here behaving as though he was planning a major seduction. She really, desperately needed to get out more. She might even need to sign up to a dating website after all.

Faint with relief that he had no idea what effect he was having on her, she sent a quick return message saying
Thanks. Really sweet of you. Will look forward to it
. She almost added and
will report back
but stopped herself just in time. She simply wasn’t going to encourage this, if indeed there
was anything to encourage, so just a pleasant, slightly patronising response was undoubtedly the best way to go.

She was now facing the dilemma of whether or not to go on to Amazon to order the book. She decided it could wait. She wasn’t short of reading material right now, and in any case her card was still maxed out, so if she did find herself intrigued enough to read it she would borrow it from the library – if they hadn’t already closed it down by then.

Making a note to herself to join any campaign there might be locally to keep the libraries open, she clicked on to her next message and moments later was staring at the screen in overjoyed disbelief. (Probably another overreaction, but she wasn’t going to give herself a hard time over this one.) One of the agencies she’d visited yesterday had only emailed to let her know that the perfect job had just come in for her: an Events Organiser at a leading West Country hotel with a salary of up to forty thousand per annum.