She forced herself to look in the mirror. Properly.
What did she see when she looked into the mirror?
All of a sudden she was blinking back tears.
What she saw was a woman who no longer turned heads.
A woman who had aged considerably since her dear, sweet, lovable, overemotional brother had died.
A woman straining to find some validation in a world that thrived off of other people’s misery. (She was mostly talking about Love Island and Celebrity Big Brother here, but honestly. Hadn’t they had enough of mocking people for their weaknesses, when, in actual fact, what the world needed more of was celebrating all that was good?)
‘Do you know what you do every day?’ Fola asked her.
‘Get up far too early, make a prat of myself on the telly, then come to you praying to keep all this from jiggling?’ She held her hands in front of her belly, looked up at Fola and saw him shaking his head sorrowfully.
A deep shame filled her that she had answered the question so blithely. So thoughtlessly. Fola was one of the most genuine people she had ever met in the world. He had been asking her a genuine question expecting a genuine answer and she’d belittled it by being blasé in response.
She looked up into his eyes.
‘The truth is, Fola, I’m not sure anymore. I feel like candy floss. Utterly decadent nonsense that only causes rot in the end.’
Even her children wouldn’t come home for Christmas anymore. It was that soulless. A home that couldn’t even offer Christmas cheer.
‘You, Katherine,’ Fola countered, ‘… bring joy. Every day you bring joy and sunshine and hope into the hearts of everyone who watches you. You remind people of the good things. Kindness. You are made of strength and commitment and beauty. And that is what I see every time we meet.’
Kath’s chin began to quiver, her eyes darting from her own reflection to Fola’s and back again.
Yes, she was sweating like a pig. Yes, she looked as if she’d been shoved through a wind tunnel backwards, but strangely, at this very moment, she felt beautiful.
Chapter Ten
Sue stared at the screen hanging from the wall. They were dotted all over the place in the huge warehouse-style complex, flickering and blinking. Tallying up the incoming calls they had, would and didn’t take. This particular screen was playing normal television channels. Presumably to make the Hot Drinks Station a bit more homely. A pair of sofas, some throw cushions and a coffee table with a spread of trashy magazines probably could’ve done it to greater effect. But then, Sue supposed, less work would get done, fewer calls would be answered and people might actually enjoy themselves. As her mother was fond of saying, it was called work for a reason.
Though it was still a few days away, Sue was already dreading Sunday lunch. Katie and Dean wanted an answer to their ‘kind offer’. They also wanted to make an announcement. Excuses weren’t accepted when announcements were on the cards.
The television was tuned into Brand New Day and had a little ticker tape running along the bottom of the screen filled with tweets from viewers about whether or not they thought this was Britain’s worst ever winter. It wasn’t going very well for Sue. She found herself raising her hand in agreement with Kath. It had been bad. Very bad, indeed.
‘You alright, hon?’
Sue turned around, startled to realise there was a small queue behind her at the Hot Drinks Station. She looked back up to the television screen. The image had changed to a man standing at the end of a pier wrestling with an umbrella. Why did they do that to these poor weather people? Shove them out of doors into the thick of things. It didn’t seem right. It was as if, unless the viewing public witnessed someone being bashed about in the elements, they couldn’t possibly believe it was extremely windy and immensely unpleasant outside. In February. When it was traditionally windy and unpleasant. She lowered her hand. Perhaps it was time she started to look at things from a different angle. Not just ‘go along with the crowd’ as she usually did.
As she watched the poor man lose his battle with the wind, the umbrella all but yanking his arm out of its socket, the look on his face reminded her of when she was learning to drive. She’d been terrified of the gear stick. Gary had thought it hilarious, her squeals of terror each time she’d lurched into a different gear, only to shudder to an ungainly halt. She’d felt as if the car was in charge and her knuckles had turned white clinging to the steering wheel, all the while hoping, praying, she could keep it under control, a bit like a wild horse. And then, one day, almost as if by accident, she’d done a gear change and realised she’d been in charge all along. Was this one of those life-changing moments when something, anything, might bloom in front of her, suddenly allowing her the 20/20 aspect she needed to realise she was actually in charge of her own life?
It definitely didn’t feel that way today.
Not with her mother dropping unsubtle hints about selling up ‘that house that had never amounted to much anyway.’ Katie and Dean’s peculiar offer. Her manager, Rachel, slipping a pamphlet about ‘discreet counselling opportunities’ onto her work station when she’d sat down this morning. Perhaps she’d been a bit too vacant on that first day back.
But there was so much to think about now that she was the sole decision maker in her life.
She’d had to dip into their holiday spare change pot today. The coins were in an old green glass flagon Gaz had found years ago out on a
