Chapter 57
Chapter fifty-seven
“Get anything nice?” Imogen asked once she was settled in the car. She pulled her seatbelt on and clipped it in. “At the shops,” she added, noticing Rosa’s confused frown.
The back door closed as Robbie got in and made herself comfortable.
“Hi, thanks for the lift.”
“Oh, no…just browsed really,” Rosa said, suddenly remembering the lie she’d told, glancing away before the blush on her cheeks became noticeable. Her eyes were drawn back to the rear-view mirror and Robbie. “No problem, Robbie. Makes sense for us oldies to take turns.”
“You’re not oldies.” Imogen laughed at the description.
“How was the lesson?”
Imogen looked away and down at her hands, fingers picking at a nail. “It was okay.”
Rosa caught it—the indifference in her voice. “I’m not sure I’m paying for ‘okay’. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m just not sure I want to carry on. If the football thing works out, then I’m going to be busier with that and—”
“Why don’t we hold fire on decision-making before we know all the facts? You might not like the football thing.”
“Are you kidding?” Imogen twisted in her seat. “It’s like the best opportunity I’ve ever had. I could be the next Nora Brady.”
“That might be so, but it doesn’t mean you have to put all your eggs in one basket.”
“That’s what I told her,” Robbie said from behind them. Rosa made eye contact through the mirror and smiled.
Imogen twisted further to look at Robbie. “I know, but…I’d want to give it my all, you know?”
“Yeah, and you will, but that doesn’t mean you don’t get to be Imogen and enjoy other stuff, like hanging with your friends and playing music together.”
Rosa heard the words and felt empathy instantly. Robbie wasn’t just pointing out a common-sense issue; she was speaking from her own perspective—the potential to lose their friendship. Another loss in her short life.
“That will never happen. I’ll always have time for us,” Imogen said. “We’re besties.”
Rosa pulled up outside the beautiful farmhouse barn conversion where Robbie lived with her family. The lights were on inside, warm and cosy.
“Thanks, Mrs C.,” Robbie said, opening the door. “I’ll see you in the morning, Immy.”
“Yep, at the corner as usual.”
The door closed and they both watched as Robbie walked up the pathway, past the cars, and into the house.
“She’s your best friend,” Rosa said.
“I know she is.” Imogen frowned, knowing where her mum was headed and not interested in a lecture at the moment.
“And you know her history.”
“Of course I do.”
Rosa turned to face Imogen. “So, whatever happens tomorrow, wherever your dreams take you, remember that.” She looked back towards the house. “She’s already lost so much.”
“Bit dramatic, Mum.” Imogen rolled her eyes.
“You’ve been lucky in life, Imogen. You haven’t lost anyone you care about yet. And I hope that continues, but one day you’ll be faced with losing someone, and only then will you truly understand the pain that lives behind your friend’s eyes.”
“Is this about you and Billy?”
Rosa looked at her. “What do you mean?”
Imogen shrugged. “I dunno, you just seem to be getting on more lately and talking more, I guess.”
Rosa reversed the car out onto the road.
“You never really talk about why you split up,” Imogen continued. “All you’ve ever said is that Billy wasn’t well and it didn’t work out, but that’s…kind of a bullshit answer.”
“Language, Imogen. You might be sixteen now, but that’s no excuse for such profanity.”
She rolled her eyes again. “So, why did you split up? Why didn’t you work it out? Did you just stop loving each other?”
“No, that wasn’t… I loved Billy very much, and she loved me. And you should really consider not calling her Billy anymore, she’s your mum as much as I am.”
“I like calling her Billy. Maybe I should call you Rosa.”
The glare was enough to shut down that idea.
“I’m serious,” Rosa said. “Billy…your mum… deserves the title.”
“It feels weird, though,” Imogen admitted. “Like, you’ve only ever been Mum, but I didn’t really know Billy for the first few years of my life, and then she was in and out, and now…I’m used to calling her Billy.”
“Just think about it.”