Just The Way You Are(89)

After all that, the session ended up being mostly a lot of chattering, with a smattering of coaching whenever Irene frowned in our direction.

I remembered to invite them both to my party before they left, which meant a great deal more due to us deciding that the ReadUp Coaching had served its purpose, and this would be our final session. Jaxx arrived just as they were leaving, which prompted me to invite him as well, and while I was on such a sociable, friendly roll, I also offered Irene one of the invites I’d printed off. I felt a lot less intimidated by Irene Jenkins now I knew she’d named her poodle Veronica Fluff.

‘What’s this?’ She sniffed, as though I’d offered her a used tissue.

‘An invitation to my thirtieth birthday party.’

Irene’s mouth dropped open in a silent O.

‘There won’t be loads of people, I’m keeping it fairly informal, but Jaxx and Trev and Yasmin will be there, hopefully some of the other Business Builders. We’d miss you not being there too. And you’ve done so much in making the library available for all these different activities.’

‘The directors like the upturn in footfall,’ she mumbled. ‘If it means we avoid the next round of budget cuts, it’ll be worth it, I suppose.’

‘I heard the Library Lady stories are thriving.’ I gestured to where a crowd was already gathering in the children’s corner.

‘It’s getting unmanageable. Children spilling out into the local history section. I’m going to have to start another session on Monday. That is, if your crowd don’t come up with reasons to hang about in here every day of the week. You’d think they had nothing better to do.’

‘Most of them don’t right now. That’s why they’re improving their literary skills. Anyway, I’ll let you get on. I really hope you’ll be able to come to the party. I thought I might introduce you to my mum and aunty. They run a craft shop in Sherwood, and would probably do a great deal on some giant cushions for the children to sit on. Maybe some brightly coloured curtains, too.’

‘I’m not sure what the colour of curtains has to do with children’s literature.’

‘Ask my aunty; she’ll be happy to explain how a warm and welcoming environment can help open our minds to learning. Oh – and feel free to bring Veronica.’

‘It’s Veronica Fluff,’ she snapped, just as the door swung shut behind me.





As I arrived back home, looking forward to swapping my humidity-crumpled work dress for a vest top and shorts, my phone beeped with a message. Glancing at the screen as I dumped my bag on the kitchen table, my bloodstream screeched to an emergency stop.

My mother.

I’d been waiting all week for this. Holding my breath every time I checked my phone. Frequently thinking I heard a ping only to find I’d imagined it.

The message was brief:

How many cushions do you need?





I sent back an equally short reply, debating whether to include a picture of the invitation providing the time and place for the party, but deciding against it in case this was all a ruse to lull me into a false sense of security until she had my address. I then called Aunty Linda to confirm that Mum wouldn’t be at the Buttonhole that Sunday, but my aunty would, and I’d be very welcome to pop in for a chat/rant/therapeutic cry.

Mum wasn’t the only reason I’d been checking my phone obsessively. It had also been a whole week since I’d run away from the opportunity to kiss Sam in my garden, and it was both impressive and pathetic how often I’d managed to dwell on that evening, considering everything else that was going on.

Steph had patiently listened while I’d explained every second in great detail, before insisting that all it took to ensure things weren’t going to be awkward was a quick message to clear the air.

‘Either he’s feeling as embarrassed as you – possibly even more so given that he made a move, meaning all you need to do is reassure him that it isn’t a big deal. Or, he already knows it isn’t a big deal – he asked, you answered, nothing more to be said. In which case, he’s probably just been busy, or is giving you some space in case you feel embarrassed. Either way, a casual text, like “Hi, Joan moves to Chester tomorrow so if you and the dogs are in our end of the forest at any point, feel free to drop by and cheer Nesbit up” will show him that, like I said, it isn’t a big deal.’

The problem that Steph seemed to be overlooking, of course, was that to me it was a very big deal.

I did take her point, however, about one unbearably mortifying moment not being a reason to end a good friendship. Plus, if Mum was definitely coming to this party, I’d need as many allies there as I could get.

I took a deep breath, scrunched up my face and sent him the party invite.

An angst-wracked minute later, having received no reply, I realised that accompanying it with some sort of personal message so that he didn’t think it was a mass text was probably a good idea if I wanted a personal reply. Better late than never, I spent another ten minutes typing and then deleting until I came up with a suitable follow-up:

Hey, Sam – really hope you can make it!





30





Joan came out as soon as she saw the tent pop up.

‘We’re allowed to sleep in here?’ she asked, her entire body drooping to show that even camping wasn’t going to lift her spirits.