It’s time I admitted it.
Once again, Lucy has won …
I’m drying my face on kitchen towel later when the doorbell goes.
Instantly, I think it’s Jason, come to quiz me about Theo. I’m not sure I’m up for that. Hopefully, it will be Paloma back from London, although I doubt it. She would have had to get a very early train, and Paloma is very definitely not a morning person …
When I open the door, I truly can’t believe my eyes.
‘Oh my God, Mum!’
She’s standing there on the doorstep with her small overnight bag, and my heart contracts because it’s so good to see her and she’s lost so much weight. She’s wearing a navy sundress with a little turquoise cardigan and navy sling-backs, and her mid-brown hair has been given soft blonde highlights that really flatter her face shape. But however much of an effort she’s made with her appearance, there’s no disguising the prominent dark circles of worry about Dad around her pale blue eyes.
‘Surprise!’ She steps over the threshold, drops her bag and enfolds me in the biggest hug. I hug her back, clinging tightly, breathing in her achingly familiar, comforting scent, tears of relief at seeing her dripping down my cheeks. She’s smaller than me by a couple of inches and having lost the weight, she feels angular and a little fragile.
‘I can’t believe you’re here!’ I stand back to look at her, and she keeps tight hold of my hands. ‘I was only just wishing I could see you – and here you are!’
‘Why were you wishing you could see me?’ She looks worried. ‘Has something happened?’
‘No, no, of course not.’ I brush away her concern. ‘Things are hunky dory here. Come on, I’ll put the kettle on.’
‘Lovely! I left so early, I didn’t have time for breakfast.’
‘How’s Dad?’
Her smile freezes. ‘Well, you know, he’s in fairly good spirits, considering.’
A cold hand grips my heart as we walk into the kitchen. ‘Still no improvement, then?’
She gives her head a quick shake then says, ‘But it’s early days, love. He’ll be fine, I’m certain of it.’
‘He will.’ If we keep on believing it, maybe it will come true.
She sits at the kitchen table and kicks off her shoes with a sigh while I make the tea and keep up a constant stream of chat about Betty and Doreen – and what they’ve been getting up to in their retirement – to distract Mum from the subject of Dad. A break from all the stressful hospital visits will probably do her the world of good. It must be so hard keeping cheery and strong for Dad’s sake.
‘I get the feeling they’re both at a bit of a loose end,’ she says. ‘Betty and boredom really don’t go well together! I think she wishes she was still the terrifyingly efficient PA she used to be, except with plenty of days off to get up to all sorts of mischief with Doreen.’
I laugh. ‘Yes, well, they’re in the café pretty much every day, so I gathered they were probably short on excitement!’
Mum’s eyes gleam. ‘I decided to come early so I could help you open up.’
I stare at her blankly.
‘The Twilight Café?’ She laughs at my expression.
‘Oh yes, of course.’ I swallow and glance down at my hands.
‘Is there something wrong, love?’ She takes my hand and squeezes it and for a moment, the only sound is the ticking of the clock on the wall as I stare at my lap. It’s no use. I’ll have to tell her. She’s about to see for herself how popular The Twilight Café isn’t.
Finally, I look up and my expression must say it all.
‘What?’ she asks in alarm.
‘It’s … the thing is, Mum, it’s not going so well. Do you remember Lucy Slater?’
Her face turns instantly thunderous. ‘I do remember that little witch. How could I ever forget her? She terrorised you throughout your schooldays.’
‘Well, it wasn’t that bad.’
‘I think it was.’ Her look is razor sharp. ‘You just didn’t tell us the extent of the bullying until after you left school. I’ve felt bad for years that I didn’t realise at the time.’
‘But how could you have known? I kept it from you because I didn’t want you to worry.’
‘Yes, but that’s what mothers do; they worry about their kids. That’s their job! So, come on, love, I need to know.’
With a sigh, I describe the damp squib that was launch day, and her face falls even further when I tell her about Lucy & Olivia’s Clean Food Café.
‘The place is packed every time I go past. I just can’t compete.’ I shrug hopelessly.
Mum frowns. ‘Of course, Lucy’s dad is a businessman with contacts all over the place. No doubt he’ll be using his influence to make sure his darling daughter’s café is a raging success.’ She shakes her head. ‘But it makes my blood boil that she opened the same day to sabotage your success!’
‘I know. I’ve been planning all sorts of murderous revenge.’ Grinning, I add, ‘But I value my freedom, so it looks like she’s got away with it.’
She reaches over and presses my hand. ‘Honestly, love, I don’t know how you can be so calm about it. If she did that to me, I’d be tearing my hair out.’
‘Oh, I’ve done plenty of that, believe me. It’s just I’ve got to the stage where I’m wondering if it’s worth carrying on with the café. Perhaps it’s time I accepted that it was a lovely idea but thanks to Lucy, it’s not going to work.’
Mum studies me, thinking hard. ‘There must be something you can do to draw people to The Twilight Café.’
‘If there is, I can’t think of it. And I’ve thought about practically nothing else for the past few weeks.’
She pats my hand. ‘Well, don’t lose
