by Lovett, Jo
‘You were literally the best Maid Marian I’ve ever seen in my whole life,’ Evie told her. ‘And violinist.’
‘It was fun,’ Autumn said. ‘Where are we going to go for dinner?’
‘I’m going to take you to Cirencester for pizza, just the two of us for a special treat,’ said Evie. ‘Mummy’s got stuff to do.’ Their mum was packing up her newly ex-partner Richard’s stuff and leaving it on the doorstep. Evie couldn’t understand why her mum constantly chose obvious bastards like Richard when she had lovely friends like Grant.
‘But you said we were going to have dinner with Richard,’ Autumn said to Evie’s mum. ‘And he said he was coming to the play.’
‘He was busy,’ Evie’s mum said. Busy forever more, apparently. ‘I don’t think we’re going to see him a lot any more.’
‘But he said he had a present for me for doing the play.’ Autumn’s little face fell. Evie really loathed Richard in that moment. She’d loathed him already for being the last – or more realistically latest – in a long line of men who’d hurt her mum, and it was even worse that he’d broken a promise to a seven-year-old. And been so nice to her when he was around if he wasn’t expecting to stay around. No-one should have their heart broken, but especially not a child.
‘I’m not sure we’re going to see him again, darling,’ their mum said. Oh, God, it looked like her eyes were swimming again. Yep, she was sniffing and pulling her sunglasses out of her bag.
Evie really hoped that her mum wasn’t going to get upset again right now. She’d spent a lot of the last couple of days crying over Richard, a lot of it on the phone to Evie on Wednesday evening, and in person last night when Evie had arrived after her drive over from London. If Evie was honest, she wasn’t just annoyed with Richard, she was fairly pissed off with her mum too, however unreasonably. Evie knew from personal experience that it was unsettling and unpleasant as a child watching your mum in and out of relationship after relationship, and she hated seeing Autumn experiencing the same.
‘Big night last night, Jenny?’ said one of the other mums, indicating the sunglasses and chortling a bit. ‘Still recovering nearly twenty-four hours on?’
‘Yep, exactly,’ Evie’s mum said in a slightly wobbly voice.
‘Did you say you needed to get going?’ Evie asked, to save her mum from the chat.
‘Yes, I did.’ Her mum shoved the sunglasses on further. ‘Lovely to see you, Zara.’
Evie’s mum wore her sunglasses all the way out of the dark church hall and through the church grounds in grey drizzle and up the road to Evie’s car, before finally taking them off as they got into it. If Evie ever saw Richard again, she’d be tempted to punch him. Thank goodness she was here to cheer up her mum and Autumn. Her mind went to Matthew. He might not be winning any prizes in the excitement stakes, but she couldn’t imagine him ever upping and leaving out of the blue. He was dependable, safe. Everything she’d ever wanted. Like the way he’d given her a key to his flat so soon. Lovely. She’d never used it, in fact, and she wouldn’t like to move in together yet, but she appreciated the sentiment a lot.
Evie dropped her mum in front of the pub in Melting and then drove down to the church and round the green and off towards Cirencester. She paused to turn right onto the Fosse Way and looked at Autumn in her rear-view mirror. She’d been remarkably monosyllabic the whole time since they’d dropped their mum.
‘You okay, Autumn?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ Autumn said, and turned her face to the side so that her hair was hanging over it and Evie couldn’t see it.
Evie’s throat was quite sore by the time they arrived at the pizza restaurant, from maintaining a flow of chirpy conversation in the face of total silence from Autumn. It was beyond bizarre. Her little sister was normally incredibly – occasionally exhaustingly – chatty.
‘You know something?’ she said to Autumn when they were seated at a red-and-white-checked-tablecloth-covered table and had menus. ‘When I’m upset about anything I find that the best thing to do is to tell someone who loves me all about it, and then I feel better. Are you upset about anything?’
Autumn didn’t say anything but swung her foot and kicked quite hard.
‘Ow,’ yelped Evie. ‘You kicked me.’
‘I didn’t mean to,’ Autumn said. ‘I meant to kick the table.’
‘Why did you mean to kick the table?’ Evie rubbed her shin.
‘I want to come and live with you,’ Autumn said.
‘Erm. Why?’
Autumn aimed another kick and connected with the table leg this time. She winced but didn’t say anything. Really not her usual behaviour.
‘Why, Autumn?’ Evie repeated.
‘Have you seen Mummy crying?’
‘Yes.’
‘I don’t like it when she cries.’ Autumn kicked again.
‘Oh, Autumn.’ Evie wanted to kill their mum. This hadn’t been okay when Evie was little and it wasn’t okay for Autumn now. ‘Come and sit on my lap for a minute.’
‘I can’t. We’re in a restaurant.’
‘It’ll be okay. Come on.’
Autumn walked round the table and got onto Evie’s lap. Evie wrapped her arms round her like she could shield her from the rest of the world like that.
‘You know what,’ Evie said into Autumn’s hair.
‘What?’
‘Um.’ Evie didn’t actually know. What could you say to comfort a child when their mother cried? She’d never told anyone about it when she was little. In fact, she didn’t really talk about it now either. ‘Basically, yes, it does feel rubbish when your mummy’s sad. But luckily, you don’t just have Mummy, you’ve got me too, and I’m not sad, am I? So maybe if Mummy gets sad you can talk to me. But hopefully Mummy won’t get sad again. And she’s probably feeling much better now. It was probably just one of those things like how you kind of wanted to cry when you kicked the table too hard just then, didn’t you?’
‘I don’t think she hurt herself. I think it was because Richard was mean to her.’
‘Yeah. But she’ll get better. She always does.’ And then she’d fall for the wrong man again and Autumn would get upset again. ‘Come on. Let’s read the menu together. I bet you can’t manage garlic bread and pizza and pudding.’
Evie did Autumn’s bath and bedtime story when they got home, firstly because she adored her little sister and it was a pleasure, and secondly because their mum was still sniffling behind sunglasses.
‘Are you staying all weekend?’ Autumn asked.
‘Yes, poppet.’
‘Good. Mummy will probably have stopped crying by the time you leave.’
That was it. Evie kissed Autumn and went downstairs – angrily fast – and into the kitchen, where her mum was staring into a glass of red.
Evie walked across the room, took the glass out of her mum’s hand and poured it down the sink and said, in a hiss, but quietly, so that Autumn wouldn’t hear from upstairs, ‘If you can’t stop crying in front of Autumn, I don’t think you should drink.’
‘What? Who made you the tears and wine police?’
‘Autumn wants to come and live with me because she hates you crying every time you argue with or split up with a boyfriend. And I hated it my whole childhood too.’
Her mum’s head went back like Evie had slapped her and the colour literally drained from her cheeks.
‘God.’ All Evie’s anger evaporated all at once. ‘I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I said that. Mum, I’m really sorry.’
‘No.’ Her mum shook her head, slowly, and got up and went upstairs.
Evie heard her close her bedroom door. Shit.
What could you do when you’d just told someone the truth and that truth was really unpalatable? Maybe nothing.
Her phone buzzed. She looked at the screen. Matthew.
No. She felt terrible right now and she didn’t feel like just being normal and chirpy on the phone, but she couldn’t tell him; he wouldn’t understand. And that was t
he beauty of being with someone like him, in fact. He and his entire life experience were completely safe and sensible and unchaotic.
After a good couple of hours of watching crap TV that didn’t take her mind off the situation, Evie went and knocked on her mum’s bedroom door. There was no answer.
Right.
She sent her mum a text telling her she loved her and went to bed for an early night.
Evie was dragged out of a very deep sleep the next morning by strange, muffled music. Where was she? Gaaah, why was there a wall in her face? Oh, okay, she was at her mum’s, in her bedroom there, her bed against the wall. And that noise had to be Autumn watching TV. Or probably some YouTube channel.
She squinted at the clock on the wall. Three twenty. What? Oh, it had stopped. It probably needed a new battery.
And then she remembered. Last night. She’d said those terrible things to her mum. And she hadn’t been able to get to sleep for ages but then she’d actually slept very deeply, which felt like something to be ashamed of. What if her mum had been tossing and turning all night, really hurt?
She rolled over and looked at her phone. Eight twenty-five, not three twenty. Okay, she was going to go and apologise.
She hauled herself out of bed, wrapped herself in the dressing gown that lived on the back of her bedroom door, and went downstairs to the kitchen.
‘Morning.’ Her mum was dressed in black Lycra and no make-up and had her hair up in a high ponytail. ‘Hope you slept well. I was waiting for you to wake up to keep an eye on Autumn so that I can go for a run.’
‘You what?’ Evie gaped. The last time she could remember her mum going for a run was a New Year’s Day when Evie was at uni and her mum’s man of the moment had been a fitness fanatic. Her mum had dumped him after their second run because, she’d said, their lifestyles were incompatible, and had taken her running kit to Oxfam in Cirencester to celebrate. She’d obviously bought some new running kit in the past decade. Or maybe not. Evie took a closer look. ‘Are those leggings mine?’
‘Yep. And the top. I got them out of your bedroom before you went to bed last night. I love you, Evie. I had a good long think yesterday evening. I’m so sorry for everything. I’m turning over a new leaf. I’m going to respect my daughters and myself. I don’t need a man and I do need to go running.’
Evie stepped forward and held her arms out to her mum and they had a big, long hug, which might have involved a few tears on Evie’s part.
When she’d dried her eyes, she said, ‘I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I’d never want to hurt your feelings.’
‘It was true, Evie, and sometimes the truth hurts. And I was hurt. I am hurt. Because I see now that I could have been a much better mother to you.’
‘No, you really couldn’t.’
‘Well, I could. And the first thing I’m going to do is go for my run, to start demonstrating a healthy lifestyle to Autumn.’ She raised her voice. ‘Autumn, darling, I’m just going for a run. Evie’s going to look after you while I’m out. And next time, you and I can go together.’
Autumn came into the kitchen, stared at her mother and said, ‘Weird,’ with a really impressive sneer.
Within fifteen minutes, their mum was back, red-faced and sweating.
‘Oh my God, Evie,’ she panted. ‘That was effing torture. Those sodding hills.’
* * *
Six hours later, Evie was finishing lunch in an Italian restaurant with Sasha while her mum and Autumn were having lunch at Grant’s pub. Again, why had her mum and Grant never started going out?
Sasha smiled at the waiter who’d just taken their card payments for their pizza lunch, checked her watch and said, ‘Fancy a little bit of retail therapy before we head back? I really want a cream polo neck jumper to wear with my new burgundy skirt for work days when I’m at the surgery.’
‘Definitely,’ said Evie. ‘I think I need to buy something else for Matthew. A couple of small presents.’ His thirty-fifth birthday was coming up on Friday and they were going out for a special birthday dinner that evening, and he was quite tricky to buy for – he was very conservative in his tastes – and it didn’t feel like she had a good enough present yet. ‘And we could have a look in that new shop in the arcade for something for us.’ She really didn’t need to feel guilty about the fact that it was way more fun shopping for herself, or for Autumn, or for her mum, or for Sasha or any of her other friends, than for Matthew. Apart from Priya, who had the most perfect flat and clothes in the world and was very stressful to buy for.
‘Fab. What have you got him so far?’
‘A shirt, which was outrageously expensive because it was the make he likes, but is also soooo boring.’
‘I’m sure he’ll love it. You have such great taste.’ Sasha opened her handbag and took out a lipstick and a little mirror and applied several layers of bright-red creamy gloss.
‘That’s a high-risk strategy,’ Evie said. ‘If you’re trying on cream jumpers with tight necks. Really hard not to brush them against your mouth.’
‘Yes, but I can’t not,’ Sasha said. ‘We might bump into Angus. And I do know that it’s stupid given that I wake up next to him a lot, make-up free. And probably very unfeminist. But, you know.’
‘You always look amazing, lipstick on or off,’ Evie told her, trying not to think about the fact that Sasha’s honeymoon phase with Angus had obviously lasted a lot longer than hers with Matthew had. She’d definitely dress up for Friday evening, of course she would, it was his birthday and they were going to a very nice restaurant, but if she was honest, she’d be more likely to apply lipstick because she was seeing a girlfriend – or her very critical Year Elevens – than because she might bump into Matthew. ‘Didn’t you just say Angus was working this afternoon? So he’s going to have his arm up a cow somewhere several miles away?’
‘Yep, but you never know. What if he has to pop into Cheltenham for something?’
Hmm. Maybe it was just that Evie was less self-conscious around Matthew because they’d met playing badminton, which wasn’t a time when anyone looked glamorous, and they’d just gone from there. In fact it was probably a really positive thing that she felt so comfortable with him.
Fifteen minutes later they were in a department store in the middle of Cheltenham looking at men’s socks.
‘I’m scraping the barrel, aren’t I?’ Evie said. ‘Buying socks. Even just as an extra little present to open.’
‘They’re only part of his present. I think it’s a nice idea.’ Sasha picked up some red ones. ‘These are cool.’
‘Yes, they are. I really like those.’ Evie looked at them and tried to imagine Matthew wearing them. ‘I think they might be a bit too bold for Matthew’s taste.’
‘I mean, they’re plain socks,’ Sasha said. ‘Just red. It isn’t like they’ve got willy pictures on them.’
‘Yeah. No. I don’t think they’re quite right.’ Evie moved over to the black socks. ‘Actually, what about these?’ She picked up some charcoal ribbed ones. ‘These might make a nice change from black ones. Just a hint of grey, and ribbed instead of just normal flat.’ The rib wasn’t too noticeable. Actually, maybe it was a bit. No point buying something for Matthew that she knew he’d never wear. ‘Maybe I’ll just go for flat charcoal ones.’ Dan’s appreciation of the naughty socks she’d bought him for Secret Santa popped into her head. She pushed the thought away, hard.
‘Good plan. Anything else?’
‘Yep. A couple more small things.’ Evie thought, for a while. ‘I’m not sure what, though.’
‘Okay. Smaller things. A book?’
Evie shook her head. ‘He’s very fussy about what he reads.’
‘Okay. Wine?’
‘No. He likes nice wine and a) I don’t know anything about labels and b) I think he drinks quite expensive stuff. Maybe let’s just shop for us now and if I see something I’ll get it. And if not I’ll Amazon-Prime something before Friday.’
* * *
&n
bsp; At exactly seven thirty-five on Friday evening, as agreed, a taxi horn honked outside Evie’s flat and she – armed with three wrapped presents, the shirt, the socks and a novelty-and-yet-tasteful kitchen timer that had seemed like a good idea when she’d bought it but less so now – let herself out of the house and hopped into the taxi that Matthew was waiting in.
‘Happy birthday,’ she said, kissing him on the lips.
‘Thank you,’ he said, smiling at her. She caught him dabbing surreptitiously at his lips with his fingers a couple of seconds later.
Hmm. How did Sasha manage to kiss Angus when she was so frequently fully lipsticked-up? Maybe Angus just didn’t mind getting lipstick on his lips.
Evie pushed the thoughts away and snuggled against Matthew where he had his arm waiting for her resting along the back of the seat.
This was nice.
‘So what have you been doing today?’ she asked. ‘How was your birthday golf?’
‘Very good, actually. I tried out my new irons. Fantastic. I have an aged copper wedge, which has really improved my play. I’ve got a couple of funny stories for you from today. But tell me about your day first. How did the Year Ten parents’ breakfast go?’
They were still telling each other about their days when they arrived.
‘When would you like to open your presents?’ Evie asked when they were sitting at the table.
‘Now?’ Matthew smiled at her.
She beamed back at him and handed the presents over.
‘I love them,’ he told her when he’d finished opening them, and leaned across the table for a quick kiss. ‘Thank you. Great choices. You know me very well.’
Two courses, lots of chat and some laughter later, they’d downed a whole bottle of champagne and were halfway through a nice bottle of red and Evie was feeling very mellow.
‘Want to come back to mine tonight?’ she asked.
‘Definitely.’
The next morning, Matthew woke up earlier than Evie would have liked, because he was meeting some friends. For a game of golf, obviously.
