Just like old times, Adele’s voice ringing in my head, I begin to brush my hair, feeling uber-sorry for myself. I’m ‘Rollin’ in the Deep’ and ‘Turning Tables’ all over again. Adele is always there, waiting to pick me up, but this time she’s got her work cut out for her as I have all sorts of miserable thoughts roiling around in my otherwise empty brain. And still no Mitchell. All this ignoring me is so awkward, so I’ve no choice but to vacate Mitchell’s room. And move into Mark’s suite. I’d much rather stick a fork in my eye, but where else can we go on Christmas Day so as not to ruin Danny’s holiday?
*
‘Mum, how long is my father staying?’ he asks.
There go my efforts in trying to protect him. Mark must have seen him while I was sleeping. For the number of times he’s spoken to him, I’m surprised Danny even recognises him. And I’m even more surprised Danny calls him that. The poor boy just wants to sound like every other kid.
‘I don’t know, sweetheart. But isn’t it great that he came to see you?’ At least I’m trying to put some oomph into my words, but they only come out as half-baked enthusiasm. I have to do this – look happy – for him.
‘Oh, yeah, Mum. And he promised me we’re going to live in a beautiful home with a huge garden as big as a football field.’
As big as his lies, he means. ‘Honey,’ I begin. ‘You do realise that your father is here today but—’
‘Oh, I know that, Mum. I prefer Mitchell any day.’
‘Mitchell?’
‘Mum, you can stop pretending, both of you. I know you are dating. And I’m grand with it.’
Grand – one of Mitchell’s expressions. And there was me worried about how he’d take a new man in my life. It’s too bad that the new man in my life is gone. The bond between them is undeniable. How am I going to dissolve it now, without breaking my son’s heart?
‘Mitchell’s the coolest of the cool,’ he says.
Before I can answer, a knock at the door makes me jump. Mitchell? Finally! I push the hair off my face, hoping he won’t notice the pile of empty dessert plates on the bedside table next to me. I’ll get him to listen to me, and explain everything properly, and maybe, now that he’s calmed down, he’ll believe me.
‘Rosie?’ Mark calls as he comes in and I struggle to hide the disappointment on my face. What the hell does he want, and why hasn’t he hit the road yet?
He sits down on the edge of the bed and ruffles Danny’s hair. ‘Buddy boy, how about giving Mum and Dad a minute?’
Mum and Dad? Oh, this is so rich. Even Danny gets the irony of it and looks at him, then at me. I nod and he turns to go, shooting uncertain looks over his shoulder. For his benefit, I smile. But as soon as the door closes, my face becomes rigid. I can feel it, pulling in every direction, like a rubber mask.
‘What are you still doing here?’ is all I can say, because, unless he’s invented a time machine to go back and undo his mistakes and the way he treated us, I don’t trust him, and never will.
‘Rosie, we need to talk in private.’
‘I have nothing to say to you, Mark. Please leave my room.’
‘Ah, yes… about that. It was very kind of the manager to give you his suite, but now he needs it back.’
Back? Mitchell wants his suite back?
‘Get your things and put them in my spare room. Here’s the key. Although I suspect he won’t be back tonight,’ Mark adds. ‘I saw him get into a car with a gorgeous redhead. And a suitcase.’