Chapter 24

Jess’s mum got out her hankie, blew her nose and resumed her tragic account of her marriage break-up.

‘I think Dad moved out, basically because, well . . . because he didn’t find me attractive any more.’

Jess cringed. She had been pestering her mum for years to tell her all about the break-up, but now the moment had come, it was the last thing Jess wanted to hear. It was way too soon after all that emotional stuff with Granny. Jess decided to head off this heavy scene before her mum got any more tearful.

She had to be bold. She had to be hugely brave, but if she did it with enough panache, it just might work.

‘Well, is it surprising?’ she said. ‘What man could endure your enormous nose like an elephant’s trunk, Mum?’ (In reality Jess’s mum’s nose was tiny and cute.) ‘And your green teeth, dripping with slime, home to numberless small molluscs?’ (Jess’s mum used inter-dental brushes three times a day.)

Mum listened. For a moment she looked a bit cross that her tragic moment had been railroaded into comedy, but then the corners of her mouth began to twitch towards a smile. Jess redoubled her efforts.

‘Most men like their wives to have hair, Mum, not a bald pate like yours covered with tattoos.’

Mum smiled, fighting off a laugh. Jess was determined to get her going. But it was much harder work than earlier, with Granny.

‘I’m sure Dad would have been happy with a quiet woman who liked to spend her evenings reading and gardening.’ (Jess’s mum’s very favourite things.) ‘But frankly, the way you go out and get drunk every night, swearing horribly, beating up policemen and forcing chips through people’s letterboxes, would put a strain on any marriage.’

Jess’s mum laughed. Out loud!

Jackpot! thought Jess in triumph. She spent the rest of the afternoon assuring her mum that she was the most attractive of all the fortysomething women in Cornwall. If Lawrence of Arabia had met her, he would certainly have abandoned the habits of a lifetime and urged her to become his wife. If Thomas Hardy had known her, he would have offered her his heart, possibly even with salad and fries. If Shakespeare had seen her, he wouldn’t have written Hamlet, Prince of Denmark. It would have been Madeleine, Princess of Penzance.

Eventually, Mum abandoned her deep self-hatred and agreed to have an ice cream while admiring some canna lilies.

‘Thank you, darling, for cheering me up,’ she said, licking her Exotic Solero. ‘You are the very best daughter anybody could have.’

Jess was relieved, though exhausted. After supper that night, she went straight to bed feeling shattered.

I’ll just lie awake and torture myself with thoughts of Fred and Flora for a few hours, she thought. I’ve been so busy with other people’s misery I haven’t had any time to wallow in my own.

Maybe she should give up all hope of happiness on Earth. Maybe she should give away all her possessions and become a Buddhist.

Then, out of the blue, her mobile buzzed on the bedside table. Jess grabbed it. There was a text from Fred!

CURSES! LOST MOBILE FOR WHOLE DAY! FOUND IT IN SOCK! WILL YOU EVER FORGIVE?

Instantly Jess whizzed off a reply: HAD ASSUMED YOU WERE TOO BUSY FLIRTING WITH FLORA AND HAD FORGOTTEN ME.

Within seconds she had her answer: WHAT?? FLORA??? WHERE IS THE DITZY NITWIT? HAVEN’T SEEN HER FOR WEEKS.

REALLY? replied Jess. SHE’S AT RIVERDENE, TOO — HAD ASSUMED SHE WAS WITH YOU.

There was a brief appalling pause. Then his answer came.

JUST TRUST ME — I HAVEN’T SEEN HER AT ALL AND I’VE NEVER STOPPED THINKING ABOUT YOU FOR A SINGLE MINUTE. EVEN WHEN EATING.

DITTO, replied Jess.

WHO’S DITTO? said Fred. SOME LEERING BEACH BUM? I AM CONSUMED WITH JEALOUSY, MADAM. DO NOT EVEN LOOK AT ANOTHER MALE ANIMAL, NOT EVEN A CANARY, OR WOE IS ME.

At this point, for some reason, Fred’s phone went out of range. However, Jess did feel reassured. Suddenly her phone buzzed and there was another text – from Dad.

CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU ON TUESDAY! HAVE GOT SOME NACHOS IN BUT CAN’T MANAGE A PUPPY THIS TIME. CAN OFFER YOU A TIMESHARE IN MY PET SEAGULL. WILL THAT DO?

I CAN’T WAIT EITHER, replied Jess. BUT SEAGULL A LITTLE UNIMAGINATIVE. HOW ABOUT PARROT? NOT SO MUCH A PET, MORE AN ON-SHOULDER FASHION ACCESSORY.

Jess now felt relaxed enough to go to sleep instead of lying awake for hours torturing herself with horrible fantasies about Fred and Flora honeymooning on a desert island. It wasn’t what you’d call the happiest ending to the most delightful of days, but it was a step in the right direction.

 

‘I want to have a bit of time to myself today,’ announced Granny at breakfast next morning. ‘I’ve got some thinking to do.’ She didn’t look anxious or tragic or anything, so Jess’s mum accepted it without a fuss.

‘I got a text from Dad last night,’ said Jess. ‘Saying we’re going to see him tomorrow. Is that right?’

‘Yes, I told him to expect us then,’ said Mum. ‘I’m planning to go to the Eden Project today. Do you fancy coming, Jess? It’s a wonderful place with huge biodomes with tropical plants and so on.’ Mum’s eyes began to shine with insane radiance at the thought.

‘No thanks!’ said Jess in horror. ‘I’ll just hang out in Penzance. I could spend a whole day here just window-shopping. And I might even go to the museum,’ she added hastily, to make her day sound a bit more educational. Mum didn’t seem to care. She was keen to make a quick getaway herself.

Jess started by spending about two hours in clothes shops, shoe shops and music shops. Then she wandered further up the main street and found a shop selling what seemed like 500 different scented candles. Jess sniffed about 267 of them and then her nose began to feel tired, so she went back outside and strolled a bit further along the road.

There was a bus at a bus stop. People were getting on. Then suddenly she noticed that the destination said ST IVES. That was Dad’s town! Jess’s heart leapt with excitement. She knew Mum had promised to visit Dad tomorrow, but suddenly she had a terrific, mad irresistible urge. She would jump on the bus right now and go to St Ives and surprise him!