Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I sat in the usual spot in the Italian restaurant, waiting for my mother to arrive, pretty sure she would be even less pleased than Maria and Clara about my news.
She arrived, the image of glamour in a slim-fitting pencil dress, attracting stares from the neighbouring tables.
She could easily pass for forty instead of fifty. I only hoped I got those genetics.
‘Hello, darling.’ She pecked my cheek, no doubt leaving her usual trademark cerise lipstick all over me, and slid into the seat opposite, already looking round for the waiter to order our usual glass of wine.
‘Mum. You look great. How are you?’
‘Good, darling, thanks. I’d be better if I could get a glass of wine, it’s been a long day.’ My mum worked as an administrative manager in the hospital.
The waiter must have felt eyes penetrating the back of his head as he cleared a nearby table. He came over immediately after he had finished.
‘I’ll have a glass of red please.’ She gestured for him to bring another one for me as well. However much she thought she needed it before, she surely would in a few minutes.
‘So, what’s up?’ She turned her attention to me, lines of concern creasing her forehead.
‘Nothing’s up.’ I took an enormous gulp of my wine.
‘Sweetie, I knew you before you even knew yourself. What’s eating you?’
May as well crack on with it so. ‘I resigned. From Maria’s.’
‘What? Why would you do that? You love that job.’ Surprise formed in her features, and no wonder. I’d repeatedly told her how much I adored working there.
I looked down at the table, trying to find the right words to tell her I was leaving.
‘It’s him, isn’t it?’ It suddenly dawned on her.
I nodded my head, lost for words.
‘Honey, do you not think it’s a bit soon? For God’s sake, the ink is barely dry on your divorce papers.’ She was worried, but I also sensed a little anger with me for leaving her again. I hated disappointing her, and that was exactly what I was doing.
‘I love him, Mum. I’ve just got this undeniable feeling in my gut that it’s the right thing. I really think he is the one.’
‘You know I’m all about the gut instinct, Lucy, and I hate to say it, but you thought you were doing the right thing when you married Rob – look how that turned out.
’ Ouch. Talk about brutally honest. Not many people could get away with it, but if my own mother couldn’t tell me straight, then nobody could.
‘Everyone makes mistakes, Mum,’ I reminded her gently.
‘I just want the best for you,’ she said. ‘And I don’t think running off to Ireland is going to solve your problems.’
‘I’m not running anywhere. I gave Maria eight-weeks-notice, but the way Christmas is falling with holidays my last day will be Thursday the twentieth of December.’
‘That’s only six weeks away,’ she exclaimed. ‘Do you really think this is the right choice? Is it not just an infatuation? The seven year itch maybe?’ She tried to reason with me.
‘I’ve never felt an itch like it, if that’s what it is.’
‘I’m worried about you. And I hate the thought of losing you again,’ she confessed.
‘It’s not far, Mum.’ I may as well have been talking to the wall.
‘I suppose you’re young. If it doesn’t work out, you can always come home,’ she conceded, taking another sip of her drink.
‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’ I raised my eyebrows in disdain.
‘Sorry, Lucy, if I’m not overjoyed at the prospect of losing you again. You’ll know yourself one day when you have children.’ I absolutely hated it when she used that line.
‘Look, Mum, it’s not like I’m going to Australia.
It’s an hour flight away. And like you said, if it doesn’t work out, I can come home.
I need to go, to try. Or else I’ll never know.
Maybe you’re right, maybe the whole thing will blow up in my face, maybe that’s exactly what I deserve after leaving Rob.
Who knows? But if I don’t go, I will wonder for the rest of my life. I can’t lose him.’
She seemed to get the message for now as she sat back in her chair, the immediate tension slowly dispersing.
‘When am I going to get to meet this mysterious man of yours?’ She resigned herself to the fact that it was going to happen, and knowing her, she was already planning on keeping the enemy close.
That was exactly what John would be, if he ever hurt me.
He was already sailing close to the wind by being Irish.
‘This weekend,’ I said, mentally hoping I could persuade him to come this way for once. It was important she met him. Hopefully, it would put her mind at ease once she saw how amazing he actually was.
‘Wonderful.’ Her clipped tone did not match her words.