I had both hands laid out on the island, waiting to be of assistance. Olga reached across and pressed her hand into one of them. I felt a collision of shame and regret wash through me like a tsunami. I wished I could have been a stronger person and that we could have met in better circumstances. All of these unspoken words hovered between us, each of us understanding the other perfectly.
Olga let out a long breath and picked up a peeler and the knobbly carrot. We both laughed through our noses. We shot a precautionary look towards the kitchen door then back to the island, where we tittered away like schoolgirls, preparing a meal for the man in my life that I secretly hoped he would choke on.
30
Now
I sat on the train and could think of nothing else except the session with Joe. It had been so long since I had talked about my big boy, my firstborn, and doing so had brought a tidal wave of sadness. I looked around the carriage of the train as I pressed my eyelids closed and pinched my thighs to stop the tears that were threatening to erupt and never stop. The guilt was crushing me. I had neglected him. What must he think of me? But he would remember what I had done, that I was certain of. How the beautiful sibling he once had was no longer with us, and it was all my fault. Of course, Joe was right. I had been living out some sort of fantasy, every time the feelings reared themselves and the pain became too much, I would look for him, and I usually found him in another child.
But I was still a mother. But did he need me? Would he want me? I couldn’t face the rejection. I had been hiding from the truth for so long, I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to feel any more. I glanced around on the train at the other afternoon commuters who were all going about their days, perhaps with issues of their own, but you would never know or be able to tell from looking at them. I held on to these feelings of regret and hopelessness all day every day. I wondered if anyone else felt the same. I felt as if I was riding this journey of grief all alone.
I had just about managed to suppress the tears, and as I continued looking around the carriage my eyes finally rested on a copy of the Metro on the table in front of me. I picked it up and began to flick through it. Nothing much kept my attention these days except for my textile work or Instagram, so I knew this magazine wasn’t really going to hold my interest for long enough. I was considering throwing it back on the table when I saw a flash of something that looked familiar. I couldn’t have been sure then what it was, as I began frantically turning the pages back, until I found what had caught my eye. It was an image of a rooftop cinema. The angle was slightly different and there were a few more people seated, but there was no doubt that it was the same rooftop cinema that lucybest65 had taken a photo of from her armchair at home, claiming she had the best seat in the house. I looked at the text under the image. It was a short advertisement piece – but the words that stood out were those that told me exactly where it was. I felt a rush of heat run up my neck as I looked around the train carriage, certain someone would jump out from behind a seat any moment and catch me out; tell me it was a joke, just a test, and snatch the magazine away. But they didn’t. It felt too good to be true.
The conversation I’d had with Joe, about meeting with my elder son, had been playing on a loop in my mind. But for now I would shelve it away into the dusty corners of my mind, where I could forget about it again for a while. I had this image in front of me, showing me that the rooftop cinema was only a few streets from my college campus.
It occurred to me that perhaps lucybest65 was more obtainable than Mrs Clean with her million-plus followers, and I had always been interested to know why lucybest65 had such a vendetta against her. It would be a perfectly reasonable coincidence if I happened to be on the same street where lucybest65 lived, or even outside her house. Perhaps I would catch a glimpse of her coming out of her front door. Maybe I would engage in a conversation to find out if it was her, without her knowing that I followed her comments on Instagram. The idea that I had access to this kind of information about a complete stranger caused a rush of excitement to course through my body.
Instagram post: 21st May 2019
Hello, cleaners, how are you all getting on? Are you enjoying this lovely weather we’ve been having lately? You all know I have been spending a lot of time in the garden and also thinking about decorating my spare room in association with Oliver Bonas. So I have been sent images of these beautiful key pieces and I just wanted to share them with you. I’m really excited to get cracking.
Today I am going
