Christmas Shopaholic(31)

Espresso martinis?

I’m about to say, “Since when did Dad know about espresso martinis?” when I suddenly clock what Mum’s wearing. She’s in a pair of baggy orange trousers that look like they belong to a Buddhist monk, together with a T-shirt with the slogan Bitch Don’t Kale My Vibe.

She…what?

As Mum catches me gawping at her outfit, she beams. “Aren’t my new trousers super, love? I bought them from a stall in Brick Lane. So comfortable. Now, let me show you around our new home!”

She sweeps us through a lobby with exposed bricks and metal rivets everywhere, plus neon signs reading WORK, PLAY, and CHILL.

“So, this is one of our ‘chill’ areas….” She pushes open a door to reveal a room full of low-slung sofas, ottomans, and beanbags. It’s dimly lit, soft music is playing, and a young guy with dreadlocks seems to be asleep in the corner. Minnie makes an immediate dash for one of the beanbags, but Luke swiftly leans in and scoops her back out again.

“Sorry to disturb you, Kyle!” Mum says in a stage whisper and closes the door again. “That beanbag’s wonderful,” she adds. “Super for taking the weight off my bunions! Now, let me show you ‘the garden hangout.’…”

Before I can reply, she’s whisking us down a little corridor and pushing open a door to a cool-looking terrace. There are plants hanging from baskets, a couple of outdoor sofas, and a firepit.

“Wow!” I say in admiration.

“It’s a nice space,” says Mum complacently. “The bees are on the roof. And, look, there’s a bicycle rack for Dad to store his unicycle.”

“His what?”

“He’s joined a local circus-skills workshop. Great fun! And now here’s ‘the hub.’?”

She leads us to another door and ushers us into a big, bright space with skylights and a huge central wooden table. About ten people are typing at laptops, most with earphones in, and a few lift a hand in greeting, saying, “Hey, Jane.”

“Hey, Lia,” replies Mum cheerily. “Hey, Tariq. This is my daughter, Becky, her husband, Luke, and my granddaughter, Minnie.”

“Hi,” I say, lifting a friendly hand and smiling at all the faces.

“Love,” murmurs Mum into my ear. “A small piece of advice? No one says ‘Hi’ here. It’s a bit ‘old hat.’ Everyone says ‘Hey.’?”

“Oh, right,” I say, discomfited.

“What businesses are based here?” inquires Luke, looking round at all the laptops.

“Lots of start-ups,” says Mum. “In fact, Dad and I might launch a little start-up, we thought,” she adds brightly. “In our spare time. It’s very much ‘the thing.’?”

“Great!” says Luke, his mouth twitching. “Good idea.”

“But now let’s go upstairs,” says Mum, chivying us out of the hub and toward an old-fashioned clanky lift. “We’re having drinks and then we’ve booked a table for brunch. Jess is so excited,” she adds. “She’s dying to see you.”

“Did she actually say that?” I ask in astonishment, because Jess doesn’t normally say gushy things.

“Well, maybe not,” confesses Mum after a slight pause. “But I’m sure that’s what she meant.”



* * *



—

OK. I’m just saying, some people, if they were seeing their half sister for the first time in ages, might rush over and hug them. But I’m used to Jess by now. As Mum shows us into the flat, Jess looks up from her drink, lifts a hand, and says, “Hi, Becky,” in her flat, calm voice.

Honestly. Does she think I’m going to say, “Hi, Jess,” in the same low-key way and that will be the sum total of our greeting?

“Jess!” I hurry over to give her a massive hug, even if she doesn’t want it. She feels skinnier and more muscly than ever; her skin is tanned, and her hair has been bleached by the sun.

“Where’s Tom?” I look around. “Is he here?”

“No,” says Jess.

“How come?” I ask in surprise—and I’m disconcerted to see Jess flinch.

Jess never flinches. She’s like granite. Is something up?

“Tom had a few things he needed to tie up in Chile,” she says stiffly, her eyes averted from mine. “You know he’s been working with a charity out there? He’s coming over as soon as he can. Obviously he’ll want to see his parents, so…”

She trails away as though she can’t think what to say next, which is pretty unusual for her too.

“Oh, right,” I say. “Shame you couldn’t travel together.”

“I’d already agreed to give a series of lectures in London on igneous rocks,” replies Jess impassively. “The dates were agreed.”

“Right.” I nod wisely, as though I know what igneous rocks are. “Well, anyway…welcome back!”

“Aunty Jess!” Minnie clasps her round the legs, and Luke comes over to kiss her, too, and Jess’s cheeks glow a little, as though she can’t help being pleased. Maybe she just needs to be jollied along a bit.

“How was your flight?” I ask. “Are you jet-lagged? I got you something to say welcome back….”