Chapter 41
FORTY-ONE
There was a splat of dried tomato sauce under the kitchen table.
Lorna only noticed it when she’d gone to sit down opposite her mum, two coffees in hand.
She’d tidied before Carol came over – a rapid shove of toys into boxes, a squirt of bleach down the toilet – but she’d missed the remnants of last night’s tea on the floor.
She hoped Carol wouldn’t notice – for some reason it made Lorna feel substandard in her mother’s eyes.
Not that Carol was ever judgemental, not openly anyway.
No, it was more that she wanted to prove she’d achieved some sort of level of success.
One that was like the families depicted in the home and garden magazines Lorna bought, where children played prettily in bright, immaculate rooms and the mother, dressed impeccably in coordinated neutrals, held a mug of coffee and looked up smiling from a laptop on the kitchen counter having just closed another business deal worth several million.
Or at least that was what Lorna always imagined was going on from the relaxed, satisfied expressions.
She had been in two minds about inviting her mother over – especially after what happened the last time they’d met.
She was still a bit wounded at her mother’s incredulous response to the suggestion she help shape her own grandchildren – it hadn’t been that bad an idea.
There were many grandparents who were kept at arm’s length and would positively jump at the chance to be involved, and here she was offering an opportunity on a plate that had been quickly dismissed.
‘I’d offer you cake, Mum, but all I’ve got are some very bright orange cupcakes from Halloween.’ Lorna peered at the half-eaten pack dubiously. ‘In fact . . . oh, they’re out of date.’
‘By how long?’ asked Carol.
‘Yesterday.’
‘They’ll still be OK.’
Lorna was secretly disgusted when her mum popped one in her mouth.
‘Did the kids dress up?’ asked Carol.
‘Pepper went as a witch with her friend Amber, and Phoenix went out for the first time on his own with his friends and no parents. So I was at home for the first time in years.’
‘Made a nice change?’
‘Yes . . .’ Actually, Lorna had been late to the party when it came to knowing about the incident in the park. She’d only heard about it when she’d taken Phoenix to football practice a few days later and one of the other mums had mentioned something. ‘You heard what happened?’ she asked Carol.
‘No?’
Lorna regaled her mother with the story of the fake-blood incident and, more to the point, the way Nancy had manhandled Rosie in the playground. This part of the tale she was able to retell with great relish as she’d witnessed it first-hand.
‘It was awful, Mum. She wouldn’t let go and Rosie was screaming—’
‘Screaming?’ asked Carol.
‘Well, crying out . . . or at least she would have been if Nancy wasn’t so scary, you know. It obviously hurt. And then James had to come over and pull her away. Actually, physically, get her away from Rosie.’
‘I’m not sure that’s true.’
‘Why not?’ asked Lorna, put out.
‘Well, maybe not quite as you say it.’
Lorna ignored the remark. ‘I tell you, she’s done herself no favours. The mums are outraged. You should see the messages on WhatsApp.’
‘Like what?’
‘Someone said something about her in her old job. Being one of those killer-nurse types, harming kids in their care.’
Carol was shocked. ‘Good God, that’s an awful thing to say.’
‘I think they meant it as a joke.’
‘A joke?’
‘You know, nothing serious.’
‘Lorna, there is no scenario where that sort of statement is not serious. Private chat groups are dangerous viper nests where things can quickly spiral out of control.’
Lorna gave her mother a dark, sidelong glance.
She was irritated by the unspoken criticism, the notion that her mother disapproved of her, thought she was a gossip.
Blunted by the snub, and sensing an atmosphere growing that she didn’t have the energy for, Lorna decided to tone it down. ‘It was mostly venting. No harm done.’
Her phone pinged – the announcement of a new email. She tapped on the screen and her eyes widened.
It was from Kingsgate School. She opened it and quickly read, her heart thudding in her chest.
‘Is everything all right?’ asked Carol.
Lorna frowned, her eyes skimming the email for the magic words, the key to the chest. She looked up in disbelief.
‘Phoenix has got a scholarship!’
Carol’s face broke into a smile. ‘That’s wonderful!’
He’d done it! Her amazing, clever, football-mad boy had got a 20 per cent reduction in fees. She had never felt so proud. She had never felt so vindicated. She clutched her phone and felt a mist form in her eyes.
The doorbell rang. Lorna sat up, surprised. Still on a high, she had a sense it was more good news. Another gift from the universe, just for her. She went into the hallway, opened the door to the visitor, then returned to the kitchen clutching a brown cardboard box.
‘,’ she said, placing the box casually on the table.
‘Anything nice?’
Lorna didn’t want to open it in front of her mother. ‘Something for Pepper.’
Carol nodded. ‘You’re going to have to be more careful with money if you’re going to have school fees to pay.’
Lorna said nothing.
Later, when Simon came back from work, she braced herself for the interrogation. He came into the kitchen, gave her a kiss and went over to where Pepper was playing at the kitchen table. He ruffled her hair, then saw what she was playing with and his face clouded over.
‘Look, Daddy!’ she cried in delight and held up the toy dog.
‘Wow,’ he said, but Lorna felt him look up to her.
‘It’s amazing, Dad. Look, you press this button and the bones come out of its bum.’
‘I thought we said we weren’t going to buy the pooing dog?’ Simon said in Lorna’s ear as he went to get a glass of water.
‘We didn’t,’ she said lightly. ‘Mum bought it.’
She looked up at him and smiled then picked up the empty can of tomatoes that she’d just poured onto the bolognaise sauce, rinsed it then took it outside to the recycling bin.
As she placed it inside, she made sure the box was well and truly buried.
He wouldn’t ever know. No one would know.
And Pepper had got her toy and wouldn’t feel as if she was the poor kid, left out and shunned by her friends.