Lauren at home:
Baggy blue tunic (H&M)
Skinny jeans (Gap)
Silver ballet shoes (ASOS)
Lip salve (Nivea)
Silver nail polish (Rimmel)
Total est. cost: £75
‘I’d love to go to a party in disguise.’
‘Where is Lauren, anyway?’ Annie wondered out loud.
Her welcome back into the bosom of her family hadn’t gone smoothly this evening, as she’d committed the sin of arriving back with a little Dorothy Perkins treat she’d bought for herself.
Before she’d been able to stash the offending item safely behind the rack of coats in the hallway, Owen had accosted her with the words, ‘You’ve got a plastic shopping bag! Muuuuuum!! How many times have I told you about this? You’ve got to carry a reusable bag with you EVERYWHERE.’
‘Yes, Owen, I know,’ she’d soothed, managing only a glancing kiss on the top of his head, before he’d ducked away. ‘I’m very sorry. It won’t happen again, OK?’
But too late, Ed had heard, and then he was in the hallway asking, ‘A shopping bag? Surely, you’ve not been shopping, on your new TV budget of 28p a day or whatever it is?’
‘This is an incredibly, incredibly cheap mini-handbag from a chain store, seriously!’ she’d defended herself.
‘Show!’ he’d insisted, while moving in for a proper hug and kiss.
She’d opened the carrier and shown him the bracelet, bag and… er… necklace she’d picked up in the shop. But a big part of her resented having to do this. She may have been relying on Ed’s savings to get them through the next few months, but she certainly didn’t want to be interrogated about every single little thing she might happen to pick up for herself.
‘Watch it,’ she warned him, ‘I might get snappy.’
‘OK,’ he backed off with a smile. ‘They look very nice and very reasonably priced.’
That’s when she’d decided to go and see Lauren. At least her daughter would understand and appreciate the joy of a bargain accessory. ‘Lauren’s in her room,’ Ed told her, ‘She’s becoming the most studious person I know.’
‘I think that’s probably your good influence,’ Annie said with a smile. ‘OK, I’ll go and say hello. Then come back to my boys in a little bit.’
It was three short flights of stairs to the attic level where Owen and Lauren each had a little bedroom. As Annie tapped on Lauren’s door, she heard a frantic blast of keyboard tapping before Lauren asked, ‘Is that you, Mum?’
‘Yeah,’ Annie said, stepping into the room. ‘Is it all right to come in or am I disturbing the next Einstein?’
‘Oh, very funny.’ Lauren swivelled her chair away from her desk and turned to smile at her mum. ‘How was your day?’ she asked.
‘A bit stressful in parts,’ Annie told her. ‘How about yours?’
‘Oh, I’ll get over it,’ Lauren joked.
‘Me too… I think,’ Annie said, then she took a seat on the edge of the very crowded bed. A huge assortment of Lauren’s clothes, bags, books and belongings had been scattered about here.
‘Planning your weekend wardrobe?’ Annie asked with a smile.
‘Ermm… something like that,’ Lauren replied.
‘It’s only Tuesday,’ Annie reminded her.
‘Just as well. Nothing’s come together yet.’
‘Something big happening at the weekend?’
‘Well… Daisy’s having a birthday party. At her home,’ Lauren added quickly: ‘parents around, nothing too wild.’
‘Sounds fine,’ Annie responded, ‘but you know I trust you. You’re older and so much more sensible. I hate you getting older, but I like the sensible bit,’ she admitted. ‘Maybe it’s my compensation.’
She took a long look at her daughter, with her pretty, pale, sweetheart face and dark hair. The older she got, the more she looked like her very handsome actor dad. Annie allowed the thought to cross her mind.
There were only a few moments in the day when she let herself think about the late Roddy Valentine, who she had been married to for six years. Very happily married to, until a small, completely unlucky and unnecessary accident had taken him away from them all.
As she occasionally explained to people who asked: no, she hadn’t ‘got over it’, not a devastating, life-altering loss like that. But she had, eventually, had to pick herself up and somehow ‘get on with it’, especially for the sake of her children. Somewhere along the way, along the years, she’d managed to let go of the fury in her head and make peace with the situation.
The only thing that still broke her heart, whenever she allowed herself to dwell on it, was how proud Roddy would have been of his children. But they were never going to hear that from him.
So, she had to over-compensate. ‘You’re looking really nice,’ she told Lauren, ‘I like your hair like that.’
‘Oh, thanks,’ her daughter smiled and pulled her locks over her shoulder a little shyly.
‘I’m glad it’s not so black any more. I mean, it was fine,’ Annie corrected herself, ‘but it did make you look a little deathly.’
‘Yeah, it was a bit too emo. I’m over that,’ Lauren agreed. ‘So, what happened on the shoot today?’ she asked, not able to hide the excited smile that the thought of her mum working in TV conjured up.
‘Oh, babes, I have no idea what is going to happen next,’ Annie admitted. ‘The woman I’m supposed to be transforming from top to toe and sending to the ball to meet Prince Charming… she doesn’t want to go. I’ve got her the dress, the bag and the shoes. I’m lining up the haircut and the make up, too, but I can’t get inside her head. Well, not in the five minutes I’m allowed to spend with her in front of the cameras, anyway. So, I’ve no idea what’s going to happen now.’
Annie lay back against the sprawl of teenage clothes on the bed. It often took Lauren hours to get ready to go out at the weekend. Sometimes it would take her two whole hours just to get to the point of going out, then she’d still have to rush upstairs and make another complete outfit change at the very last minute. She was almost as insecure about going to parties as Cath was proving to be – a thought that inspired Annie to ask her next question.
‘The woman I’m working on, Cath, hasn’t been to a party for years. She’s too shy and self-conscious. But this is the happy ending that the producer wants. He needs Cath to look transformed and beam confidence at every handsome stranger she meets at the ball. I mean… it feels impossible! He doesn’t just want a makeover, he wants a personality transplant!’
There were a few moments of thoughtfulness before Lauren replied, ‘When Cinderella goes to the ball, she only knows three other people there – her stepmother and two stepsisters – and even they don’t recognise her.
‘It’s much easier to pretend to be someone else if you don’t know anyone there and if you’re in disguise. I’d love to go to a party in disguise. No one would recognise me and I could just be a fly on the wall. A mysterious guest!’
‘Yes?’ Annie was trying to understand what her daughter meant. ‘So, I should put her in disguise?!’
‘She’s going somewhere where she won’t know anyone, isn’t she?’ Lauren asked.
‘Yes… I think so. It’s not a family party or anything. She’s supposed to be taken to some sort of glamorous event. I don’t know what yet.’
‘So why don’t you take her to a masked ball or something like that?’ Lauren asked, her face full of enthusiasm, ‘Somewhere that she won’t know anyone and she won’t be known. Somewhere where she can hide all her awkwardness behind a mask?’
‘You know, babes,’ Annie said, feeling a sense of lightness and relief, ‘that is a very, very good idea. That is such an amazingly good idea that I might have to speak to someone about it right now!’
Lauren shot her mum a smile but then her attention seemed to be caught by her computer screen again.
‘You’re working so hard,’ Annie told her, ‘I’m so proud of you.’
‘Thanks,’ Lauren replied, but then glanced down at her feet as if almost embarrassed by the praise.
‘You are going to do really well in your exams, aren’t you?’ her mother asked.
‘I hope so,’ Lauren said, a little shyly.
‘I’m very proud of you,’ Annie repeated.
‘Mum… would it matter if I didn’t do well in my exams?’ was Lauren’s next question.
This took Annie by surprise. Why was Lauren even asking? Her marks were good, she was studying hard… why was she even thinking about not doing well?
‘For goodness’ sake!’ Annie reassured her, ‘you’re up here slaving away every night. You’re just feeling nervy. You’re comparing yourself to all the other brainboxes at your school instead of thinking about how well you’re getting on. I’m sure you’re going to do brilliantly! And we’ll all be so proud of you. Try not to worry about it.’
Lauren gave a smile, but it was a little tight around the edges.