One

Sofia

“A na! Ana, come on! Are you up yet? I have to leave for work in ten minutes so if you want a ride…”

“I don’t need a ride. I’m going into Copenhagen, I’ll take the train.”

“Copenhagen? I thought you were working with Lea in the shop today?”

Headstrong and too street-smart for her own good, I should be proud of my daughter, that she’s turned out this way. I am proud of her. After her father walked out on us when she was just five years old it’s been hard trying to juggle work while bringing her up on my own. I’ve tried to keep her close, make sure the decisions she made were the best ones for her: tried to make sure she grew up confident, not scared to make her own way in the world, and I think I’ve done okay. She’s twenty-two now. The same age I was when her dad left. She’s making her own way in the world, and I’m terrified that, one day, she’s going to leave me. day she is going to leave me. I can’t make her stay with me forever, even if that’s the way I’d like it to be. We’re a team. Me and her against the world. The way it’s always been.

“Lars and I are meeting with a guy from the company who supply the leather off-cuts Lea uses to make our wrist cuffs. They’re big sellers, we’re buying more and more stock from them, so, we think it’s time we struck a better deal.”

“And you’re having this meeting in Copenhagen?”

“At Nyhavn Quay. Not every business meeting has to take place in an office.”

“Yes. I get that.”

“We do things differently, that’s all.”

I watch her as she looks in the mirror, runs her fingers through her long, silver-blonde hair. With her ice-blue eyes and her stunning smile she’s every reason why I still feel the need to protect her. Men love her, that’s understandable. And she likes the attention, of course she does, she’s young. She’s beautiful. She’s all grown-up, and that’s what scares me. But she’s also super-smart, she’s sensible. She runs her own business – a small bohemian clothes and accessory shop in Vesterbro – with her best friends, twins Lars and Lea Janssen. It’s successful, they’re making money, and I know that for sure because I’m their accountant. And I’m insanely proud of all of them. But my daughter – she has a weakness that concerns me. Bad boys. Men I wouldn’t necessarily want her to be with, but I can’t watch her twenty-four-seven. I can’t make choices for her. She’s been hurt before, and I can only hope that she stays careful. That she doesn’t let anything distract her from the good life she’s building for herself.

“ We do things differently?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

She turns to face me, a slight smirk on her face. “Our generation.”

“I’m only seventeen years older than you, missy. You should think yourself lucky you’ve got one young, cool mama.”

She comes over to me, stands up on tiptoes and kisses my cheek, and I catch her waist: pull her against me for a hug. My baby girl. My whole fucking world.

“I love you, Mama.”

“Yeah. Right back at ya, kiddo. Go on. You have a good meeting, and keep me in the loop, okay? Remember who controls your finances.”

She shoots me a smile and runs out the door.

She’s going to work. So am I.

Her business isn’t struggling. Mine is.

Another day of keeping my head above water is about to begin.