Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Rosie

I wasn’t expectingto find Mum in the kitchen when I stepped out of the bathroom next morning. I was still towelling my hair dry as she gave me a huge grin, the frying pan already sizzling on the hob.

“I’m getting you some breakfast before college.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

I couldn’t remember the last time Mum made me breakfast.

“How many eggs?” she asked me, and I stood beside her, still in shock.

“Two, please.”

“Toast?”

She already had the bread out, ready to go.

“Yes, please.”

The swelling had gone down on her face, and she was already made up to hide the split in her lip, which was lucky, but hmm, the realisation took me a little off guard. She looked very preened compared to usual for her morning of care work. I looked her up and down, noticing that she was in her best pair of jeans.

She read my gaze.

“I called in sick,” she said. “I’m not feeling well after the Scottie blow up. My face is still sore.”

I understood that, but kept on staring at her as she fried our eggs. Something wasn’t quite adding up here.

“Are you going out or something?”

She didn’t look at me, just focused on the eggs.

“Yeah. I’m heading out with Trisha for a bit to take my mind off it. We’re going downtown to get some clothes for Ramsay.”

That was code for heading downtown and hitting the clothes shops for themselves. I should have realised it was the end of month and her wages had landed into her bank account. At least she’d usually wait until the weekend to hit the shops, not call in sick at work on a Friday. It was lucky I was working so many pizza shifts, since I’d be the one bailing us out on the electricity meter.

I couldn’t hide how pissed off I was with her best friend.

“Nice that Trisha wants to be bothered with you this morning, considering she wouldn’t come when I was screaming for help last night.”

“She didn’t hear you,” Mum said, even though she knew that was bullshit. Trisha would have heard me loud and clear.

Mum buttered my toast and put my eggs on top, handing it over like it was a gift. I guess it was. A token sign that she cared was always worth a lot to me.

I walked through to our dining table, which was backed up in the corner of the living room. The place looked weirdly big without the coffee table.

Mum sat alongside me to munch on her breakfast, flashing me a smile.

“Thanks for last night,” she said. “Julian was a hero.”

That same wistful grin was on her face, and I counted myself lucky for the good fortune. At least it wasn’t Scottie she was doe-eyed over this time.

It didn’t take long for us to finish, so I took her empty plate out along with mine. I washed them off in the sink, wondering how many we had left after a load went careening to ceramic death last night.

“I’ll get some more from town,” she told me from the doorway, reading my mind. “The charity shops have a lot of them.”

“Good call,” I said.

She moved closer, propping herself against the counter.

“So, about Julian. Do you think I should thank him by inviting him over for dinner?”

It was a rhetorical question, because she didn’t care what I would think about it. She never cared what I thought about Scottie, the guy who raised his fists to her. I looked her in the eyes as I dried our plates, and I knew what she was really asking me. She needed a hit of confidence.

“Yeah, I think he would like you. Sure.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Mum said.

“No, but it’s what you meant. And yeah, I think he’d like you.”

“You do?”

I smiled a genuine smile, because Mum looked so happy standing there. Such a contrast with the wreck she was last night.

“Yeah, I do.”

“I guess I’ll have to ask him then, when I see him next.”

So much for never, ever speak to the man upstairs. It gave me a weird lurch in my stomach. Part of me was mega happy at the thought of Julian taking Scottie’s place – a hero in a storm, when Mum needed one. But another part of me wasn’t quite so sure I wanted him as my mother’s partner. I had some very deep tingles of my own…

But I couldn’t let myself go there. Julian must be late forties, almost fifty, so it would be a huge age gap for Mum at thirty-five, let alone me. Plus, Mum liked him. She was already smitten, and it was showing. I shoved my own thoughts aside and went to my bedroom, grabbing my college bag and tying my damp hair into a ponytail.

“I’ll see you later,” I told Mum. “Thanks for breakfast. It was great.”

“No problem.” She laughed a little. “I hope Julian enjoys my dinner just as much. I’ve almost forgotten how to cook one.”

She wasn’t lying. I’d barely known her cook in years. It was mainly me, making our pasta dishes and frying up budget chicken stir fry, or bringing back slices of pizza from work.

I left her there, still flying high and tapping out a message on her phone. I wondered if she’d already given Trisha the lowdown on what a knight in shining armour the man upstairs had been.

What a shame I’d learnt to be the eldest out of the two of us. The laundry and housekeeping around Mum’s issues had taken more of my time than kid’s shows, or colouring pens, or the billions of stories I’d wanted to be reading. Thank God for audiobooks. Small mercies, plus at least they kept Scottie’s voice out of earshot. Usually.

Shame I didn’t have my book on loud enough this morning. I was almost at the college gates when I heard an ‘Oi, Rosie’ over the narrator. I could have cursed when I spun around and saw Jayden, Scottie’s son, right up behind me.

Fucking hell. I wished he’d been off my radar for today. I tugged out my earbuds so I could hear him.

“Dad said your mum kicked off at him last night. He said she was really winding him up.”

“Not exactly how I’d put it…”

“He said you got the crazy guy upstairs to throw him out, like an asshole. Dad’s got a massive splinter in his leg.”

“Yeah, and my mum’s got a swollen jaw and a split lip!”

Jayden looked embarrassed at that. He scuffed the kerb with his shoe.

“Did he hit her again?”

“Yes.”

“It’s been a while though, right? Dad’s been trying.”

“Not fucking hard enough.”

I couldn’t hold back the rage. My eyes were burning fierce as I went on my way, because rage was easier than crying. But Jayden wouldn’t let it lie, following on behind me.

“Do you think you could talk to her? Dad was really upset last night. Said it got out of hand, and if you’d have just left it, it would’ve been fine.”

That was more than I could take.

“BULLSHIT! He had his hands around her fucking throat, Jay! If I hadn’t stepped in, he could have killed her!”

Passers-by looked at us, but didn’t say a word, pretending ignorance, as usual. I put a hand to my forehead, hating this place and everyone in it. Jay shrugged, hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, well, anyway. If you could speak to her, Dad would be grateful.”

“I don’t want him to be grateful! I want him to stay the fuck away. I’m not putting in a good word for him. Ever!”

“That’s pretty harsh,” Jayden said, but I didn’t care, just carried on walking.

Why did he think his dad was such a good guy under the surface? He was more deluded than my mother, which was saying something. Still, I was probably deluded about my mum, too. He was likely as optimistic as I was, hoping one day they’d turn a corner and be the parents we needed. At least my mum never raised her fists to me, and at least I was eighteen now, and able to provide support for us both, rather than depend on her to keep our electricity on.

College went by in a blur as I tried to concentrate. English, Maths, Science. My surface level friends chatted their usual pointless chatter, and the buzz of Friday was rippling through the other students, but I wasn’t feeling it. I had no plans for the weekend, other than longer shifts at the pizza place. I was done with any more fake illusion of friendship than necessary. I felt thirty years older than everyone around me anyway.

I hung on in the library for a decent few hours after college finished, because I really couldn’t be doing with another round of Jayden singing Scottie’s praises. Plus, Scottie might well be there himself. I left it long enough that I managed to get to our block without any distractions, and let myself in with a sigh. Mum was back from shopping. I saw it from the collection of bags lined up on the sofa. Zaza’s. Great. The price tags on those things would be expensive.

“Ta da!” she announced and appeared in the living room to give me a twirl. She was in a lovely purple dress, which really suited her. It showed off her curves like a dream.

I wished I shared some of them.

I gave her a smile. “You look great, Mum.”

She twirled again. “You think?”

“I know.”

“Thanks.” She looked so pleased. “I’m going out with Trisha tonight. Martha’s having Ramsay. I heard that Julian sometimes pops into the Brewery Tavern on his way back from work. Who knows, maybe we’ll run into him and I can ask him over for that dinner.”

Wow. She’d been doing her research. The whole estate probably knew she had her eye on him by now.

“Maybe,” I said, then checked out the time on my phone. “You’d have to leave soon if you want to catch him at the end of the office day. He’s usually home by six thirty.”

“Six thirty?! How do you know that?”

I got a tickle in my stomach, as though I’d done something wrong.

“We usually cross paths in the hallway. He arrives home when I’m heading out for work. Not close enough to speak to. I just… see him.”

Her eyebrows shot up in panic. “Fuck. It’s almost six thirty already.”

She grabbed her phone, no doubt typing out a frantic message to Trisha. Jeez, there was so much urgency after one single encounter with him. I wished she’d calm down.

As it turned out, she didn’t need to ping Trisha, since a knock came at the door. She was on time for once, usually at least twenty minutes late everywhere she went.

Mum tossed her phone on the sofa and ran to let her in.

“We’d better go soon…” she began and then went silent, her words stopping dead.

Fuck. I thought it was Scottie. I shot into the hallway to get him the hell away from her, but stopped in my tracks as I saw the guy actually standing there.

“I just wanted to drop by and check you were ok,” Julian said with his posh accent, and it gave me another lurch in my stomach.

Mum ran a hand through her hair. “Wow, yeah, thank you. Come on in!”

“I should be getting back–” he tried, but she beckoned him in like he was royalty stepping into the hall.

She reeked of happy desperation, and it made me sad.

I cleared the sofa of shopping bags in case he wanted to take a seat, but he didn’t. He stood around awkwardly, checking out the scene of the crime. The remains of the coffee table were gone. I’d thrown it into the trash heap downstairs late last night.

“Cup of tea?” Mum asked him, dashing through to the kitchen.

“No, I’m ok, thank you. Like I said, I have things I need to get back to. Work paperwork waiting upstairs.”

He didn’t sound all that convincing, despite the token smile he shot my mum. It was my eyes his fixed on while she busied herself with the kettle.

“And how about you, Rosie. Are you doing ok?”

My cheeks bloomed looking at him. I pushed my glasses up my nose as always, self-conscious. “I’ll survive. We really appreciated your help last night. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, and I looked at him fresh. He was wearing the same suit as yesterday. His tie was hanging exactly the same way. He saw me looking and straightened it, then seemed to bluster and walk away.

“I’ll let myself out,” he said. “Glad you are both recovering.”

Mum caught up with him before he reached the door.

“Hey, Julian, I was thinking. Maybe you could come over for a, um… thank you dinner. You deserve one.”

I caught his eyes over her shoulder. They were still on me.

“I’m pretty much stocked up on dinners for the week,” he said. “Thank you for the offer, though.”

“Maybe next week?” she pushed, and I cringed inside for her. She was trying so hard.

He didn’t want to give her the cold shoulder, that much was obvious, so he smiled politely and gave her a nod. “Maybe, yes. I’ll have to check my calendar. Work’s very busy this month.”

“Great,” she said, naïve enough to believe him.

“Nice to see you both,” he said, before he walked away, his eyes still on me.

Mum practically squealed as she closed the door behind him. It was as though he’d just accepted a wedding proposal, not given her a half-assed maybe on a dinner at some point in the future.

“Do you think he likes me?” she asked, and I didn’t have the heart to disappoint her.

“I think so, maybe. He didn’t say no, after all.”

She sat down on the sofa and breathed out a sigh of relief.

“That’s good. I’ll still head out with Trisha for a drink, though. I can tell her all about it.”

Poor Mum. Seriously. Life with Scottie had screwed with her mind. She was so oblivious to reality. Clinging on to so much blind hope.

I was glad I’d grown up enough to manage the two of us.

I just hoped Julian really would turn up for a meal with her sometime. I’d kind of like him as her boyfriend, and maybe, just maybe that could happen one day. My thoughts were interrupted, because Mum started laughing on the phone to Trisha, and her words gave me a chill in my heart.

“Shall I head up to him later after a couple of drinks? I wonder what he’d say if I turned up at his door with a bottle of wine in my hand.”

I could only imagine Trisha would be there at the bottom of the stairs, cheering Mum on as she climbed. There was nothing I could say, nothing I could do, nothing that would make any difference once Mum had a couple of vodkas in her. I just hoped she wouldn’t blow it.

I wanted the best for her, I wanted to give her the best possible chance, even drunk after a night out with Trisha at the pub. So, there was only one thing for it, I had to set the stage.

I had to warn him, prepare him for her knock at the door.