‘That’s some house,’ Adam said as I pulled my car up on the driveway of the imposing whitewashed six-bedroom house before us.
I nodded but didn’t speak. He was right, it was quite spectacular.
‘You grew up here?’
‘We moved here when I was about six. Mum inherited it from her parents. They died in a hit and run.’ I took a deep breath. ‘It was a drunk driver. The police caught him. He went to prison. But…’
‘It couldn’t bring them back.’
I shook my head.
‘I’m sorry. That’s so sad.’
I mustered a half shrug. ‘It was a long time ago.’
‘But you still miss them.’
I nodded.
‘I can hear it in your voice.’ He squeezed my hand. ‘There’s a touch of wistfulness to your tone. They were important to you.’
I nodded slowly. ‘Yes, they were and…’
‘And?’
I shook my head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
Adam leaned towards me. ‘Yes, it does.’
I took a deep breath and looked back at the house. ‘It’s just, things changed after they’d gone.’
The house that had once been somewhere exciting to visit for the occasional weekend or school holiday had become home. Our lives were upended and slotted into somewhere none of us had really fitted, no matter how hard we tried.
Anyone who saw the house, or knew of its location, was envious of us and the new life we had acquired. But appearances could be deceptive. Reality was always subjective.
I shook my head again, trying to cast off the wave of sadness that threatened to engulf me. ‘Come on, we can’t sit out here all afternoon.’
I opened my door and clambered out. I took another deep breath and straightened my long blue skirt.
‘Are you all right?’ Adam asked as we fell into step and started walking towards the house.
I tried to smile, but it felt too forced to look natural. ‘Just a little nervous.’
He chuckled. ‘Shouldn’t I be the one who’s nervous here? I’m the one who’s about to be grilled by your mother.’
I cringed.
‘Wait.’ Adam stopped dead, as uncertainty flashed in his eyes. ‘I was only joking. She’s not actually that bad, right?’
I gazed at him helplessly. I wanted to deny it. To reassure him that it was just an informal quiet afternoon with my mum, who was excited to meet the guy that had made her daughter so happy over the last few weeks. But I couldn’t. It wasn’t. He was auditioning for her, and my mother was a harsh critic. Few ever made the cut.
‘I should have turned her invitation down. You should have told me this was a bad idea and that you didn’t want to meet her.’
‘But I do.’
I squinted at him. ‘You do?’ I couldn’t keep the surprise out of my voice. ‘Why?’
Adam stepped forward and his gaze met mine. ‘Because she’s important to you. She’s part of your life. I want to know everything about you. Even your mother.’
‘But it’s too soon. I should have told her that.’
Adam rested his hands on my shoulders. ‘So, why didn’t you?’
‘Because…’ I swallowed. How could I answer that? I wasn’t sure there even was a reason, just a compulsion. ‘She wanted to meet you,’ I finished lamely. That was all that had mattered. She’d wanted it.
Adam nodded. ‘Then we’d best not disappoint her.’
He reached for my hand, our fingers intertwined like pieces of a puzzle slotting perfectly in place. It felt natural. Right.
We started walking again and I felt stronger. I was worrying unnecessarily. Adam had got this. His calm thoughtfulness would win Mum over. How could it not? He was everything a mother could want for her daughter. Everything I wanted for myself.
The front door swung open as we approached and I automatically pulled my hand from Adam’s. I felt like a child caught doing something I shouldn’t. Something wrong.
I saw Adam’s startled expression, before he quickly replaced his smile and reached out his hand to my mum. ‘Mrs Harper, it’s great to meet you.’
Mum studied him, her lips pinched into a straight line that added years to her age. She left his hand outstretched in front of her for a few seconds too long, before finally gripping it with her own. ‘Yes, well, you’d better come in.’
She released his hand, turned on her heel and disappeared inside.
I didn’t dare look at Adam. What must he be thinking? It was hardly a warm welcome. I half expected him to turn around and head back down the drive. I wouldn’t have blamed him. Perhaps I should even encourage him. I could go with him.
It was stupid to have brought him here. I wasn’t ready to share him yet. Our time together was precious and new. It was ours. Just ours.
‘After you.’
I looked up and realised Adam was holding the door for me to go first.
I smiled and stepped inside. I should have known he wasn’t the type to run from anything. Not even my mother.
‘Wow! I thought the house was impressive, but this view…’ Adam’s voice trailed off as he stared out of the kitchen window.
The long stretch of freshly cut lawn led to a rocky cliff edge, and beyond it was a vast expanse of blue. The sky met the sea somewhere on the distant horizon. It was perfect.
‘Come on, you need to see it properly.’ I swung the patio door open. I grabbed Adam’s hand and led him outside. ‘I love it out here,’ I told him as I hurried him along the winding path to the end of the garden.
I pointed to the right. ‘Over there you can see Old Harry Rocks near Swanage.’ I signalled to the left. ‘And over that way you can see the Isle of Wight.’
‘Wow!’ Adam repeated as we reached the edge. He glanced left and right again before leaning forward, peering down the steep cliff face to the promenade and beach below. ‘This is incredible.’
I watched the waves crashing on the shore. ‘Dad and I used to stay out here for ages, just watching the waves.’
Adam turned his head to look at me. ‘You’ve never talked about your dad before, other than when you told me he left when you were a kid.’
‘I don’t talk about him.’ I shrugged. ‘Mum didn’t allow it.’
‘Allow it?’
‘Like it.’ I laughed. ‘I mean, she didn’t like it. It was…’ I searched for the right words.
‘Too painful,’ Adam finished for me.
I nodded, but somehow it didn’t feel right. Had it been too painful for her? She’d never really seemed sad that Dad wasn’t around. She didn’t seem to miss him. It was more that she was angry.
I rolled my eyes. Of course she was angry. He’d abandoned her and left her to raise a kid all alone.
Except, it hadn’t really felt like she was mad at him, but more like she was mad at me.
I closed my eyes and willed the tears away. I was wrong. I had to be wrong. Mum loved me. She’d always loved me. It was just her and me. Together.
‘Jess?’
I opened my eyes and my gaze met Adam’s. I cringed as I realised he’d been watching me.
‘Are you okay?’
I pasted my smile back in place and saw his shoulders relax.
It wasn’t just Mum and me any more. I had Adam now, too.
‘So what do you think?’ I asked, nodding back at the view before us.
‘It’s quite something,’ Adam said with a laugh. ‘I’m kind of envious of you growing up here. It must have been amazing.’
I swallowed. ‘Yeah, I guess.’
‘Can you get down to the beach from here?’ Adam asked as he brushed an overgrown bush aside with his foot.
‘I wouldn’t recommend it.’ I leaned forwards slightly. ‘The cliff side is unstable.’
Adam pouted and edged a little further forward. ‘That’s a shame. You’d have your own private beach access if you could clamber down here.’
‘You should mind your footing up here,’ Mum said as she walked up beside me. She nodded towards the edge. ‘One mistake and…’ Her gaze travelled to the promenade below the rocky clifftop and then back to Adam.
I bit my lip as I studied her. There was something about her expression that I couldn’t place as she stared at Adam.
It was just concern, of course it was. That’s why she was warning him about the cliff.
‘Mum’s right,’ I said, turning back to Adam. ‘Dad and I used to joke that we’d try it one day but…’ I swallowed and glanced at Mum.
Her expression had hardened.
I’d mentioned Dad.
We don’t talk about him.
‘We should go back inside,’ I said, as I turned my back on the beach and the past.
‘It’s very…’ Adam paused as I handed him a delicate flowered china cup and saucer. ‘Traditional.’
I bit my lip and tried not to let the tea spill. Mum would be so cross if it splashed on the beige carpet. It was spotless. A little threadbare in places. But spotless. It, like the rest of the house, had been cleaned to perfection. Mum had always been very particular about this house.
I sat on the three-seater sofa beside Adam and sighed as my mind drifted.
‘Mum, can Susan come round after school tomorrow?’
Mum’s hand froze; her fork suspended in front of her lips as her gaze darted around the kitchen. ‘The house isn’t really tidy enough for visitors.’
‘It’s perfect. It’s always perfect.’
‘Well, yes. I suppose it’s not too bad, but…’
‘We won’t make a mess, I promise. I’ll get her to take her shoes off and we’ll stay in my room. No one would even know she’s here.’
‘But I would know.’
My gaze drifted to the photo of the two of us that hung over the fireplace. Just Mum and me. Her arm wrapped around my waist. A smile on her face.
It was the only addition she’d made to the décor since we’d moved in. She’d insisted on having the photo taken a few months after Dad had left. It was as though she was trying to prove to the world that she and I were fine alone. We’d lost everyone who’d mattered to us; first her parents and then Dad, but we still had each other.
‘What happened with your dad?’ Adam asked. I glanced at him and realised he was staring at the photo.
I shrugged. ‘Sometimes things don’t work out.’
‘Does he still live in Bournemouth?’
‘I don’t know.’ I shifted on the lumpy sofa. ‘I never heard from him after he left.’
Adam gaped at me, his eyes wide. ‘But you seemed so close.’
‘We were.’ I shrugged again, trying to brush off the past as though it no longer bothered me. ‘Or, at least, I thought we were.’
A movement caught my eye and I saw Mum in the kitchen picking up a chocolate cake.
‘I guess things aren’t always as they seem,’ Adam said softly.
My head jolted back and I stared at him, wondering what he’d meant. But he was still studying the photo.
I shuffled forward on the sofa and leaned towards the coffee table. I reached out to move a notebook that lay beside the tea tray to make space for the cake.
I frowned as I picked it up. There was something familiar about it. The navy blue hard cover. The worn corners. It wasn’t just any notebook. It was the notebook. The one Mum had had for years. At least it appeared to be the same one. She’d scribbled in it frantically when Dad left. For days she had been inseparable from it. And then suddenly it was gone.
For a while.
It was like a phase that re-emerged periodically. She’d write in it obsessively for a while and then it would disappear for months, sometimes even for years.
But it always came back.
Curiosity niggled at me, urging me to turn back the cover and take a quick peek inside. My fingers twitched as I ran them along the edge of the pages. It would be so easy, Mum wouldn’t even know…
I let out a deep breath. But I would know.
The notebook wasn’t mine. I had no business poking my nose into Mum’s personal affairs.
Not that that ever stopped her.
I froze, stunned by the hostility of that thought. There was a truth to it, but it was different. She was my mum. That came with certain rights, certain responsibilities. She looked out for me; protected me. That was all.
I frowned. Wasn’t it?
‘That looks amazing, Mrs Harper.’
I jumped and quickly set the notebook down on the sofa beside me.
‘Mum always makes the best cakes,’ I told Adam proudly.
‘That’s because I use your grandmother’s recipe. Sometimes it’s better to stick with tradition.’
Mum’s gaze locked on Adam as she spoke and I cringed. She’d heard his comment. His slight on her house; her way of life. He hadn’t meant it that way. To him it was probably just an observation. But to Mum every comment meant something. Not just the words that were spoken, but what was left unsaid. She prided herself on being able to read people.
It was an impressive skill to possess. If it worked.
Somehow it never had on me. If it had then wouldn’t she know how much I loved her? How much I cared?
How much I needed her to love me back?
I blinked, startled by that stray thought. It was random. It was wrong. She loved me. She always had. In her own way.
She just didn’t know how to show it, that’s all.
She loved me.
She’d stayed.
Mum cut the cake, slid a slice on to a plate and handed it to Adam. She did the same with a second piece and turned to pass it to me. I lifted my hand to take it from her but she froze.
‘Mum?’ I squinted at her. Was it my imagination or did her hand tremble as she held the plate? ‘Are you okay?’
She laughed. A contorted chuckle that lasted for just a moment. ‘Sorry,’ she said as she shoved the plate into my hand. ‘I was miles away.’
I nodded slowly.
She dropped the cake knife down on the coffee table with a thud.
‘Aren’t you having any cake?’
‘Yes, yes, just got to tidy up a bit first.’ She slid past me, scooped up the notebook from the sofa, hurried to the dark oak desk by the window and shoved the notebook into a drawer.
I turned back to Adam and realised he was also watching Mum. He turned to me and arched his eyebrow. I shrugged, but there was a heaviness in my stomach. One afternoon in Mum’s house and he’s already started to notice her strange habits.
Mum returned and cut a piece of cake for herself, before sitting in the armchair opposite.
Adam shuffled forwards on the sofa. ‘Are they your grandparents?’ he asked, nodding at a photo on the sideboard.
‘Yes, that photo was taken at the hotel they always used to go to in Majorca.’
Mum tutted. ‘It was Menorca.’
I squinted at the photo. ‘Really? I thought it was Majorca.’
‘You know your memory isn’t reliable.’
Adam’s eyes widened as he turned to me. ‘I haven’t noticed your memory being bad.’
Mum laughed. ‘Not bad, just selective.’
I froze. I felt like a cornered animal, caught between my instinct to fight and an overwhelming fear telling me to run.
Adam turned back to my mum. ‘You make it sound like Jess can choose what she remembers and what she forgets.’
‘Not choose exactly.’ Mum stared at me. She was taunting me. Reminding me who was in charge. She knew my weaknesses; my secrets.
I swallowed. I should intervene. I should make her stop. And yet, I couldn’t.
‘Jessica just has a way of forgetting the bad things.’
I held my breath waiting for her to continue, but Mum shrugged, as though signifying the end of her revelations. She’d made her point. She didn’t need to elaborate. The power balance had been restored in her favour.
Adam patted my knee. ‘Sounds like a useful skill.’
Mum nodded. ‘It can be, sometimes.’ She leaned back on the sofa and took a sip of her tea. ‘Luckily, Jessica has me to help remind her.’
‘It was lovely to meet you, Mrs Harper. Thank you for inviting me to your beautiful home.’
I stared at Adam, trying to read his expression, but his smile appeared as genuine as his words. Except, how could they be? How could anything about the last three hours be described as lovely?
Beside me Mum nodded, and she and I watched as he headed towards the door. I started to follow, but Mum caught my arm. She leaned in close to me.
‘Are you going to marry him?’
Her voice was barely a whisper and for a moment I thought I must have misheard her. But then I saw her expression, doubt and questioning fuelling her piercing glare.
I stared at her, conscious that my jaw had dropped open. ‘I’ve only known him for a few weeks.’
She snorted. ‘That doesn’t seem to matter. You can’t bear to be apart from him. If you’re not with him, you’re messaging him.’
I heard the contempt in her voice. She thought I was getting too involved too fast. Maybe she was right. Maybe I had got caught up in the excitement, the newness, the attention, the company.
There was a voice in the back of my head telling me to be careful and go slowly. But I was tired of listening to that voice. For once I didn’t want to be cautious and sensible. I wanted to be adventurous and carefree.
But there was another reason too; I was afraid to lose him. I still couldn’t believe he was actually dating me; that we were a couple. What if I didn’t reply to his messages at midnight when he wanted to chat and I just wanted to go to sleep? What if I didn’t agree to go to the Mexican restaurant he loved, even though spicy food gave me stomach ache? Maybe he’d realise I wasn’t fun enough, interesting enough, or adventurous enough. Quite simply he’d realise that I wasn’t good enough.
It was the conclusion everyone came to eventually. At some point my usefulness expired. I was always temporary.
‘It’s not always good, you know?’
I stared at her, unable to find the words to express my shock. She actually wanted to dissuade me from the idea of love, of marriage, of being happy. I knew life wasn’t perfect. I’d lived through enough heartache to know that. But love and marriage was every little girl’s dream. It was my dream. It’s what she’d wanted for herself. And yet, not for me…
There were no motherly reassurances. No comforting, ‘don’t worry, you’ll find the right guy’, or ‘it’ll all work out’. She wanted to shatter the dream. My dream.
It was like telling a child that Father Christmas didn’t exist.
Except I already knew.