The Secret Mother(12)

‘So,’ he says, his dark eyes bright with enthusiasm. ‘Once I get started on the plans, it will take almost a year’s worth of project management. Which means my attention’s going to be taken away from the day-to-day running of the business. I’ll need someone to manage the centre for me.’ He looks at me pointedly.

‘Me? You want me to manage Moretti’s?’

He nods. ‘I can increase your salary. Not quite double it, but almost. I can—’

‘Whoa. Hang on, Ben.’ I take a breath and run a hand over my forehead. ‘I’m flattered, I really am, but—’

‘Don’t dismiss it. Not yet. Think about it. Please.’

‘What about Carolyn?’ I say, thinking of my forty-one-year-old colleague who already manages the shop. ‘Won’t she be put out to have me in charge? She’s the one you should be asking, surely. And Jez won’t want me telling him what to do.’

‘Jez won’t mind as long as he has a free rein to tend the plants. And between you and me, Carolyn’s lovely but she’s scatty and nervy. Most days she’s late. Her lunch hour lasts almost two hours, and she’s always got some kind of family crisis going on. I couldn’t trust her to run the place while I’m busy with the new plans. I like her, she’s excellent with the customers, but I don’t think she’s up to the job. I don’t even think she would want it.’

I glance to my right to see a pretty dark-haired waitress hovering at our table.

‘Two lasagnes,’ she says with a smile, putting our food in front of us. ‘How you doing, Ben?’

‘Yeah, good, Molly. You?’

‘Oh, you know. The usual.’

‘This is Tess. Tess, Molly.’

Molly gives me the once-over. ‘Hi,’ she says with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

‘Hello,’ I reply.

‘Your mum and dad okay?’ she asks Ben. ‘I miss them coming in.’

‘They’re fine,’ he replies. ‘Loving being back in Italy. I’ll say hello from you next time they call.’

‘Yeah, please. Give them my love.’ Molly stands there for a moment. It looks like she wants to carry on talking but can’t think of what else to say.

‘Well,’ Ben says, breaking the awkward silence. ‘Nice to see you. Take care.’

‘You too.’ She twists the bottom of her apron and totters back to the bar on her four-inch heels.

‘Does she run the Ben Moretti fan club?’ I ask.

‘Ha, ha, very funny.’

‘Ex-girlfriend?’

‘No! I used to come in here with my parents quite a lot. She’s just being polite.’

‘Well, I think you’re in there.’

‘And I think I’m changing the subject,’ he says, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. ‘Let’s eat.’

‘This is amazing,’ I say after my first forkful.

‘Told you.’

‘Bring me here every night and I might just be persuaded to manage Moretti’s for you.’

‘Really?’ His eyes light up.

I realise I shouldn’t have joked about it. Now he thinks I’m considering it. ‘Look, Ben, much as I’m flattered…’

His face falls.

‘I have a lot of personal stuff going on in my life right now,’ I explain. ‘I really don’t think I can commit to such a responsibility.’

‘Tess. I… I heard about what happened to you. To your children. I just want to say how sorry I am.’

I put my fork down, suddenly not hungry any more. ‘How did you know?’

‘Carolyn mentioned it quite a while ago.’

Great. How does she know? She obviously listens to gossip and doesn’t have a problem with spreading it, either. I realise I’m hurt by this. I always thought she and I got on pretty well, but then I picture her in the shop at work – she’s always talking nineteen-to-the-dozen with the customers. I open my mouth to say something cutting about gossipy colleagues, but Ben continues.

‘She meant it kindly, Tess.’

‘How the hell does she know my business?’

‘Apparently she’s friendly with your mother-in-law.’

I’m pretty sure my mother-in-law thinks I have defective genes. Amanda Markham with her four grown-up healthy children. Scott is the youngest, with three older sisters – the longed-for son.

‘Carolyn thought we should know what you’d been through, so we wouldn’t say anything inappropriate.’

I’m not happy that they all know my business, not happy at all. But I suppose at least it’s saved me having to explain stuff.

‘So,’ he says, ‘I just want you to realise that I know your situation and I’d be understanding if you had… difficult days.’

‘Thank you,’ I mumble.

‘I can’t pretend to know what you’ve been through, Tess. The thought of it is, well, it’s terrible. I just think it might be good for you, you know, to get stuck into something like this.’

I’m touched. Most people can’t handle bringing the subject of my children up. Not only is he unafraid to talk about it, he also thinks I’m strong enough to cope with more responsibility.