Five
Ihad a bit of a hangover the next day, and was also tired from a lack of sleep, so when Mum told me I could have the afternoon off, I jumped at the chance. I had told her about Ted and me splitting up and although she said she was sorry, she hadn’t seemed that surprised.
‘You’ll know when you meet the right one, my darling,’ she said, turning the sign on the shop door to say ‘closed’. We shut the bridal shop for half an hour each day from twelve-thirty till one, because Mum believed a work-life balance was important. And yet she always checked the online orders while eating her sandwich, or her salad, or whatever she was having for lunch that day. ‘Ted obviously wasn’t Mr Right.’
I followed her into one of the back rooms where we had a kitchenette, a small circular table and two chairs, plus a two-seater sofa.
‘Did you think Dad was the right one?’ I asked, after a moment or two as I filled the kettle to make tea.
She shrugged and smiled, taking her tuna sandwich from the fridge, and placing it on a plate on the table.
‘I was only fourteen when I met him and all I could think about was how handsome he was. He looked like an angel with his golden blond hair and green eyes. When we married, I wasn’t grown up enough at sixteen to realise that he was the type of man who would find marriage and things like mortgages and other responsibilities, boring. He tried his best, but I’m surprised we stayed together for as long as we did after you left for uni. He only did that for you.’
I loved my dad, and I knew he loved me, but it had taken a while for me to forgive him for telling Mum he wanted a divorce. Since they divorced, he’d had several girlfriends but no one serious. Mum on the other hand, had remarried. My stepdad was a lovely man named Chris.
‘And Chris?’ I queried.
Mum’s smile said it all. ‘I knew from the moment he touched my hand.’ I’d heard the story of how they met, many times, but I never tired of hearing it. ‘We were in Sainsbury’s and we both reached up for a jar of olives that were on the top shelf. I couldn’t quite reach, so, like the gentleman he is, Chris handed me a jar, and his fingers brushed mine. It was like a bolt of electricity and we just stood and stared at one another. Until someone else wanted to get to the olives. We smiled at each other and then I turned and walked away, but he came after me and asked if he could buy me a coffee. It was only later that he realised he hadn’t got a jar of olives for himself. So yes. I knew he was Mr Right from that very first moment.’
That’s exactly how I’d felt when I’d met Sam. And I’d experienced a similar bolt of electricity the first time Sam’s hand had brushed against my skin. But I’d never told Mum that.
Even after all these years, I hadn’t told her how much I’d loved Sam. She knew I’d met him on the very first day of that holiday, ten years before, of course, and that we were seeing one another. Sam and I had spent almost every moment of that week together so someone would have had to be blind not to know that.
She’d asked me one evening if I was “being careful” and told me that, if I wanted to talk to her about anything, anything at all, I could. But the only person I told was Erin. I’d phoned or texted or video-called her every day.
And when Sam broke my heart, the day we left Fairlight Bay, I hadn’t told Mum. I’d said I’d caught a cold, which was why my eyes were running, and then I’d spent most of the following week in my room. Erin had visited me every day and hugged me while I’d cried. Moving so far away from Erin, when Mum, Dad, and I went to Aberdeen, had been almost as devastating. Except I still spoke to Erin every day. I never spoke to Sam again.
‘Is this anything to do with that boy?’ Mum asked me once or twice.
‘Him? Oh no. That was just a holiday fling.’ It tore my heart to shreds just to repeat Sam’s words, but Mum had seemed convinced.
I’m not sure why I was so reluctant to tell Mum how I felt. Perhaps, because I knew she had problems of her own. I’d heard my parents arguing a few times over the years, but after that holiday, when we moved to Aberdeen, the rows grew more frequent. Mum didn’t really want to leave Kingston upon Thames, but, as she told me after they’d divorced, she had thought that moving there with Dad might be the only way to save their marriage. Obviously, that hadn’t worked.
I’d left for uni in Leeds a few weeks later, so I was able to keep my heartbreak to myself. Well, myself and Erin. I’m not sure how I would’ve coped without all those long chats with my best friend.
‘Do you regret marrying Dad?’ I asked Mum now.
Her shocked expression was its own reply. ‘Never. If I hadn’t married him, I wouldn’t have had you. And you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, my darling.’
I smiled at her. ‘Apart from meeting Chris.’
She grinned and winked. ‘He comes a close second.’
I handed her a cup of tea and sat on the chair opposite with my own cup.
‘Where’s your lunch?’ she asked as she bit into her tuna sandwich.
I shrugged. ‘I forgot it this morning. But I’m not hungry.’
‘You’ve got to eat, Lucy. Why don’t you nip out and get something? No wait. I’ve got a better idea. Take the afternoon off. I know you won’t have packed yet. And you’re leaving tomorrow, aren’t you?’
‘You’re correct on both counts?’ I grinned. ‘But are you sure? I’ll be away for a week and I didn’t give you much notice. Don’t you want me to stay and help you today?’
‘We’re not rushed off our feet in the shop, are we? And Chris will help me with all the online orders, so there’s no need for you to worry about those. No. You go, my darling. And have a wonderful time.’
I took a few gulps of my tea and then beamed at her as I got to my feet.
‘Well if you’re sure. Thanks, Mum. You’re the best.’ I dashed to the sink, washed up my cup, and left it to drain on the plastic drip tray on the counter. ‘You can call me if you need anything. You know that, don’t you?’
Mum nodded and smiled. ‘And the same goes for you. Call me if you want to chat.’
I kissed her on the cheek, grabbed my raincoat from the rack and headed towards the door. It had rained for most of the week and my faux fur jacket had got drenched the day before.
‘I will, Mum. Bye. Hope you have a good week.’
‘And you, my darling. Oh. And if you bump into that handsome young man, say hello from me.’
I stopped in my tracks and spun round, my voice cracking as I spoke.
‘Which handsome young man?’
‘Sam,’ she said, her gaze fixed on the last piece of her sandwich. ‘That was his name, wasn’t it?’
I swallowed the lump in my throat, and squeaked, ‘Sam?’ I coughed and took a quick breath to compose myself. ‘Oh. The holiday fling, you mean. I’m not sure I’d even recognise him. Bye. Love you.’
I raced out of the room, and the shop, before either of us could say anything more.
Had Mum known all these years, how I’d felt about Sam?
‘Of course she has,’ Erin said, when I called and told her about the conversation, and that I’d got the afternoon off.
I’d already called her first thing that morning to tell her Ted and I had broken up. She’d listened intently, and then offered to pop round that evening with a takeaway and some wine. I’d told her I couldn’t drink because I’d be driving down to Midwinter the following day, to which she had replied, ‘That’s fine. More wine for me.’
‘Are you still coming round this evening?’ I checked.
‘Absolutely. I might be a little late though. We’re a bit busy at the moment.’
‘Those pesky criminals,’ I joked. ‘Sorry. I know murder isn’t funny. I’m in a strange mood.’
‘Don’t worry about it. Laughter helps to keep us sane. It’s a crazy world out there. See you around seven.’