Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hey, mum. This is just for you. A kind of PS, if you like. The rest of the stuff I showed you, yeah, that’s making the book — being a journo has some advantages and one of them is knowing a load of guys who’re all fighting over the rights. Even Holl isn’t going to get to see this. She’s read the rest. Made her cry. But this one — this is ‘your eyes only’.
It’s not always going to be easy, what we’ve got. I know you want to rush straight into ‘mother and grandmother’ mode . . . all that shopping you did for Cerys and the twins? Christ, never seen so many M&S bags in my life, but, yeah, I understand. You might not be around forever, want to make up for not being there up till now . . . yeah. Understood. But. You can’t buy love, guess you know that. You have to earn it. Just be there, mum. That’s all I ask. Just be there. For them, for me, for Holly.
This time last year . . . wow, when I look back it’s like everything’s changed. Then I’d just fucked up my life with Imogen in ways that made Christmas in a war zone look peaceful. Now I’ve got a family, a real love, I’ve even got a bloody Christmas tree and a turkey — what the fuck is that all about? And you. You were always like this bogeyman in my head, you know, this creature who left me as soon as she could get away, and now I know you were just a scared kid — it’s like I’m reappraising everything.
And it’s going to take time. But I think we can do it. I never thought I’d love a woman, but I love Holly. So, just maybe I can learn to love you too.
Like Holly says, maybe there is something in this ‘magic’ after all. Or maybe it’s just us, offloading responsibility onto some ‘spell’ shit. Either way, we’re doing okay. Dealing with life, working things out.
Which is another kind of magic really, isn’t it?