Chapter 13
I lay in bed that night with a highlight reel from the evening running on a loop through my mind, preventing me from sleep. Although who am I kidding? Since the menopausal years had hit, sleep and I had had a somewhat turbulent relationship. But Sash’s words were still echoing in my brain.
Whatever you wanted.
The next morning, as I checked I had my keys and opened the front door, it was to find Sash standing there, tears streaming down her face.
‘Whatever’s the matter?’ I asked, pulling her close, but she stepped back, a smile breaking on her face along with the still-streaming tears. She reached into her oversized canvas tote and pulled out a metal plaque.
‘I got it!’ she said, half-laughter, half-choked tears. ‘I got my Silver Play Button, my YouTube 100,000-subscribers plaque! It came this morning.’
‘Oh! Oh, Sash! That’s wonderful!’ I pulled her back in for the hug. ‘Oh, darling, I’m so proud of you! Congratulations!’ My tears joined hers and neither of us cared about the mess our make-up was now in.
Hugh and I had made no secret of the fact that we had both had concerns when our daughter had given up a well-paid job in marketing to focus on her lifestyle YouTube channel, but our first priority was her being happy and it was easy to see the enthusiasm and passion she had for creating content.
To help alleviate our worries, she made a business plan and sat us down to look it over.
Unbeknownst to us, she had been squirrelling away a good portion of her day-job salary with a view to being able to fund a career break from the corporate world while she threw all her time and energy into her passion project.
Without taking into account the money that she was earning from her channel, funds she only touched to put back into that business, she had enough to live off for six months.
She promised that if she didn’t hit her financial and business goals by the end of the six months’ break she’d budgeted for, then she’d go back to Corporate Land and take another marketing contract.
Obviously, she was an adult and could, and possibly would, have done it anyway but knowing she had our support made it an easier, and happier, decision.
And now, with the extra hours Sasha had been able to dedicate to her channel, she’d hit both targets in under half that time and her numbers were only rising.
‘Sorry, were you on your way out?’ she asked as she peered in my hallway mirror and swiped the smudged mascara away.
‘Yes, but that’s OK. Are you free?’
‘Yep. Why?’
‘I’m taking myself out for lunch. Want to come?’
‘Yes!’
As we strolled along the pavement on the way to the Tube station, the thin, watery winter sunshine casting half-hearted shadows of skeletal trees lining the avenue, Sash linked her arm through mine.
‘You know, I’m liking this new you, Mum. Not that I didn’t love the old one too.’
‘Less of the old, thank you.’
‘You know what I mean.’ She squeezed my arm. I returned it and we began chatting about where to go for lunch.
We returned from London several hours later, having taken advantage of the weather to take a walk down the Embankment, gazing over every now and then at the familiar sights of Tower Bridge, its blue-painted iron matching the sky, and then a little further along the looming edifice of the White Tower, more popularly known to the many tourists as the Tower of London.
People bustled along in suits, in jeans, and two Buddhist monks, in their bright-orange robes.
London was always interesting. Sasha had filmed much of our day, as usual.
I’d always requested that I not be included as much as possible and she had respected those wishes.
In a way, I wished I felt more confident in myself to be included on the odd time she asked.
But I couldn’t. I didn’t like having my photo taken these days and in videos, I felt I looked older than I was, and rather frumpy.
I didn’t know exactly how or when that had happened but I know The Girl From Paris would have been horrified.
As would Gabby, if she had known. Assuming she even still remembered me.
But then, if Gabby had still been in my life, it wouldn’t have happened.
I knew that. She wouldn’t have let it. On the days that I let myself, I still missed my friend so very much.
That night, Sash and I were sitting on my sofa, feet up on the ottoman, narrowing down choices of Airbnb flats for me to rent in Paris for the six months I’d decided to spend there.
We were down to two. One was modern, purpose-built; the other was a conversion of a large period property, now split into six flats.
‘Which one are you thinking?’ Sash asked.
‘The modern one is a useful location, and has all the mod cons.’
She nodded. ‘True. But that’s not what I asked, Mum.’
I touched the picture of the other one: its shuttered windows, the wrought-iron balconies in front, flower baskets attached to them, red pelargoniums spilling out and contrasting with the black of the iron.
‘Obviously, it won’t look like this now. That must have been taken in the summer.’
‘And yet it’s still calling to you, isn’t it?’
I shook my head. ‘I think I’m too old for things to be “calling to me”.’
Sash let out a groan. ‘God, Mum!’
‘What?’
‘You’re fifty, not five hundred! That’s nothing these days.’
I stayed silent. It certainly felt like something on the days when I looked in the mirror and wondered where the hell the time had gone.
‘Book it,’ she said.
My finger hovered near the key on the laptop.
‘But what if…’ I trailed off.
Sasha looked at me, waiting for me to finish but my mind was already tumbling.
What if…
A smile crept on to my face. My hand shook as I pressed the button. Sash let out a squeal of excitement.
What the hell if!
‘Oh my God! You’re going to live in Paris!’ Sasha sounded even more excited than me. ‘That is so cool!’
‘Come with me!’ I said, taking her hands. Immediately, I let go and shook my head. ‘Sorry. No, I shouldn’t have asked that.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s not fair. You have friends, and a life here. A job.’
‘Mum. It’s only Paris, not the moon. And, right now, my job is being a YouTuber. I can do that anywhere. I mean, just the thought of the content I could make in Paris… Argh!’ She squidged her whole body in excitement.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Mum. I’ve been dying to ask you if I could tag along but I didn’t want to get in your way. I mean, this is something you need to do for you. Ghosts you need to put to rest and all that. Plus, I wouldn’t want to cramp your style.’
‘Oh, darling. Why didn’t you say something?’
‘See above?’
‘I’d be so thrilled if you wanted to come. The apartment has two bedrooms anyway and we can each do our own thing so we’re not in living in the other’s pocket. But only if you’re absolutely sure.’
‘Mum, I’m sure. I’m literally going to start packing the minute I get back.’
‘What about your flat here?’
‘Jenny’s been dropping hints that her sister is looking for a flat share in London. This way, I get to jump before I’m pushed.’
‘You didn’t tell me that was going on.’
She shrugged. ‘No need. Dealt with now anyway.’
I opened my mouth to speak but Sasha carried on.
‘Look, Mum. I know you can do this on your own. You’re amazing. I know you don’t believe that but I do. I know it. And hopefully, this move, even if it’s temporary, will help you see that too.’
‘I’m not taking you if you’re going to keep making me cry,’ I said, pulling Sash in for a hug. ‘Thank you,’ I whispered.
‘Oh my God!’ she squealed as we sat back. ‘We’re going to live in Paris! Are you calling Dad?’ she asked as I picked up my phone from the coffee table.
‘No.’ I pressed the contact name, then speaker. ‘Ashok. This is all his fault.’
‘Isn’t it like three in the morning in India?’
‘He’s in Spain this week, scoping out that new hotel he’s got his eye on.’
‘Evening,’ the accented voice drifted down the line.
‘How’s the hotel?’
‘Good. They’re trying to play hardball, though.’
‘Ah. They don’t realise they’re up against a pro,’ I said, laughter in my voice although I knew my statement to be true.
‘Exactly,’ he replied, amusement lacing his words. ‘But on to more interesting topics. How are you?’
‘I’m fine, thanks. Sash is here too.’
‘Hi, Ashok!’ she called.
‘Hi, Sash. How’s you?’
‘Good, thanks.’
‘Have you seen the gang lately?’ Ashok had taken to calling Vikram, Mira and Alaria ‘The Gang’ when we were in Goa and were as pleased as we were that they’d all kept in touch. Especially as Vikram and Mira had booked their wedding at his hotel next year.
‘Last night, actually. We went to a new bar that had opened but it was a bit naff really. Not much atmosphere and super over-priced. Not sure it’ll last long.’
‘That’s a shame.’
‘It was fine.’ She shrugged it off. ‘We got awesome pizza from a street vendor and went off to a pub that we know really well.’
‘Ah. I’m glad to hear it.’
‘I’m going to shoot off now, but Mum’s got some exciting news for you.’
‘Indeed? I’m very intrigued. Lovely to speak to you, Sasha.’
‘And you! Bye!’
‘Hang on a tic, Ashok,’ I said and quickly hugged my daughter goodbye, telling her I’d call her tomorrow about arrangements to tell her dad. ‘OK, I’m back.’
‘Good! The suspense is killing me. What’s this news?’
‘I took your advice.’
‘Ah. I’m glad someone listens to me. Which bit exactly?’
‘I’m going back to Paris.’