Chapter 7 #2
I shake my head. ‘I didn’t get it. They went with a different campaign.’
It’s the first time I’ve said that out loud, which may be why my throat tightens.
‘Oh, Mum!’ Harlow abandons the onions to throw her arms around my middle. ‘I’m sure you did your best,’ she says. I swallow the lump, Harlow’s precocious reassurance disarming the self-pity before it takes hold.
‘Thanks, Lo. I definitely did my best. But there’s a silver lining and I’ll tell you all about it at dinner.’
She hugs me tighter and I kiss the top of her head, smoothing out her hair. Then she releases me, returning to the onions as Connie adds the chicken. While Harlow stirs and Connies starts chopping bell peppers, I pour us drinks – including sliced lemon for Harlow’s water.
I hand out the glasses and hold mine up. ‘Happy Friday,’ I say.
Harlow and Connie pause to return the toast, then resume cooking. I sit at the kitchen table while they work in harmony, Connie murmuring instructions to Harlow, who follows them to the letter.
She’s becoming quite the home chef, my daughter. That was always Daniel’s department, and I couldn’t love Connie more for teaching Harlow everything she first passed on to her son.
Hobbes comes in from wherever he’s lazed the day away and sniffs the air, agreeing that it smells good. He crosses to his bowl and stares at it for a good ten seconds, then looks over his shoulder at me accusingly.
‘I know, it’s just boring old cat food. I’ll save you some paella.’
This doesn’t appease him and he leaves the bowl untouched, then curls up on his bed by the back door. I smile to myself. Hobbes is a cantankerous old cat but there have been many nights when he’s given in to my need for cuddles.
Connie tells Harlow to add the stock to the pan then sets a timer so it can simmer before they add the prawns. She and Harlow join me at the kitchen table, drinks in hand.
‘So, what’s this silver lining then?’ Connie asks.
‘Well, you know those Home for the Holidays films, the ones with Max Stirling when he was a kid?’
‘Uh-uh,’ Harlow replies as Connie says, ‘Vaguely.’
‘What?’ I say with a laugh. ‘Okay, Harlow, you not knowing is my fault – I’ve neglected my motherly duties – but you must have seen the first one, Con? Everyone on the planet saw that.’
‘Is it the one with the child who licks the pole and his tongue gets stuck?’ Connie asks. ‘Such a silly film.’
‘Not that one. It’s about this kid – Stevie – and his uncle is serving overseas in the military, and they hatch this plan to get his uncle home for Christmas as a surprise for the rest of the family.’
‘That sounds amazing,’ says Harlow, her eyes wide.
‘It sounds delightful,’ Connie says in a way that suggests she’s just being polite. ‘But how is this connected to the silver lining?’
‘Well, I’ll be working on a campaign to reboot the franchise for a TV ad – with my colleague. He’s even got Max Stirling to play Stevie.’
‘And this colleague, is it that handsome fellow we met at the party last Saturday?’ Connie asks, taking us way off course.
‘Uh, yes. That one.’
A delighted smile breaks across her face, then she shares a conspiratorial look with Harlow. And that’s when I put it together. The lip-zipping in the car, the mini golf with Maisie… Connie and Harlow are in on it together – not the dynamic duo, but the scheming duo.
‘Okay you two, what are you up to?’
‘Nothing,’ says Harlow, wearing her I’m-totally-innocent face. She glances towards Connie who I catch with her forefinger pressed to her lips.
The timer goes off and Harlow leaps to her feet. ‘I’ll add the prawns,’ she cries.
‘And the frozen peas,’ says Connie, ‘but no stirring.’
As Harlow finishes the paella, her back to us, Connie leans in close. ‘Please don’t be cross. Harlow genuinely likes Maisie and, well… it really is time you got back out there, Sophie. Daniel wouldn’t want you languishing all these years.’
The mention of Daniel and what he would or wouldn’t want is a blow, making my breath catch, and half of me could tear Connie a new one, but the other half… Well, she’s as much a mum to me as my actual mum and I know this will have come from a place of love – no matter how misguided it is.
‘But I told you it’s not like that with Drew,’ I reply, my voice low. ‘I can’t stand him.’
Connie recoils, stunned. ‘Why, what’s wrong with him?’
‘How long have you got?’ I reply, letting the sarcasm loose.
‘But he seemed so polite when we met and he clearly adores Maisie.’
‘Okay, yes, he can be charming and he’s sweet with Maisie, but at work, he’s—’ I stop myself. What’s the one thing I can say to shut down this matchmaking scheme once and for all? ‘He’s smug, conceited, arrogant, and totally full of himself.’
There, that should do it.
‘Oh, darling,’ says Connie, ‘my beautiful son aside, a lot of men initially come across as arrogant prats. But the good ones soon realise that it gets old, and they need to let their vulnerable sides shine through. You’ve already seen glimpses of that with this Drew fellow – so maybe give him a chance. ’
‘I—’ I stop myself again.
Because what is there to say to that?