Don’t You Forget About Me(70)

I close the laptop and turn this over, adjusting my view of the McCarthys. I knew they were men of decent means, but seriously rich? That had flown over my head. As he said, they don’t dress like it.

It’s a bit ungenerous of me, but I wonder if their unusual easy-going fairness is borne of always setting the pace themselves, not being in any stress over cash flow or under the cosh from someone further up the chain of command. That could as easily make you a tinpot Hitler, if you were that way inclined, I remonstrate with myself.

Through my morning shower, getting dressed and made up, I can’t stop thinking about this latest twist. Had the cool cabal at sixth form known this, I have a feeling Lucas would’ve been reassessed and promoted. It’s to his credit that he never dropped a word of this, not even to me.

To think I was supposedly the greater catch at school. Ha. Supposed by who, though.

With a deep breath, wishing I still smoked, I call Mum on my way into work. Like Esther, I think a conversation with a neutrally imposed time limit is a good thing. Unlike with Esther, I quickly glean it’s not going to be very amicable.

‘At last! I wondered if we were ever to speak again,’ Mum says.

‘Oh, as if,’ I say, immediately returned to being fourteen years old by the parental dynamic. A worn groove.

‘You could’ve handled this with a little more grace, Georgina, than to simply start stonewalling me.’

‘I was busy and I didn’t want to get into an argument.’

‘There will be no need for that if you simply apologise to Geoffrey. He’s being very level headed about it, now he’s simmered down. We’re very fortunate to have him.’

I stop dead in the middle of Northfield Road, mouth agape.

‘What? He should be saying sorry to me!’

‘What on earth for?’

‘Uhm … let’s see, saying my life was a mess, calling me selfish, implying I’m a bit of a slapper, laughing at my job. Calling my life a disaster. Saying Dad was an arsehole.’

Mum’s quiet for a few seconds and I know full well that Geoffrey has not provided these details.

‘Funnily enough, he said you were the one who was aggressive. You threw his very generous offer of a job back in his face, made jokes about how you’d rather go into prostitution instead and got very rude and sarcastic at the notion you’d even consider working for a central heating firm. I’m not sure where you get the superiority from, young lady, as from where I’m standing you have nothing to lose from accepting.’

How do I say: your husband is a malicious liar?

Mum isn’t only sticking up for him as he’s her pay cheque and Lord Protector, I sense. The overselling of Geoffrey’s tale clearly shows that she’s decided she desperately wants me to take a nice safe position in an office, overseen by him, beholden to him. She wants me to be like her. How long before some twitchy chinless son of an MD would be pointed in my direction, too. (‘He’s flying up the corporate ladder and a very smartly turned out young man. At your age, you could do a lot worse.’)

‘I already have a job I like a lot and after the way I was treated by Geoffrey I wouldn’t want to owe him anything, thanks.’

A pause where I gather Mum is tutting.

‘It’s a mystery to myself and Geoff why you are so unwilling to let us help you.’

‘If you want to help me then I wouldn’t mind a bit of faith and emotional support, thanks.’

‘Georgina, you’re still working in bars at thirty. You have no savings, no pension, no home. No relationship. What am I supposed to emotionally support, exactly?’

‘Me, as a person? Aren’t I enough?’ I say, pretending to be coolly in control and not on the verge of tears. ‘I’m happy.’

‘Are you?’

‘Yes,’ I say, in a clipped voice.

‘And you should give some thought to giving Robin a second chance.’

‘You … what? Robin? Why? You couldn’t stand him.’

‘We ran into him in Waitrose, last week, week before last. We both reached for the same jar of peanut butter, hahaha! Didn’t he tell you?’

This causes my stomach to plummet. What the … my hands are immediately sweating on my phone and I grip it so tightly I think it might shatter. I can’t let her know what a nasty shock this is.

‘No, he didn’t.’

‘Oh, I thought he would have done. He explained how things had been quite casual between you and he’d upset you by saying so, you’d split up and now he really wants to commit. I think he means it, Georgina. Sometimes it takes the right woman to make a man grow up and settle down.’

The thought of this spectacle by the Condiments and Spreads aisle turns my stomach.

‘Why did he feel the need to tell you this?’

‘He felt we’d misunderstood his intentions towards you. He might not want you to know this but he’s really rather gooey about you. I didn’t realise what a solid family he’s from himself.’

‘How long were you talking for?’

‘Only five minutes. He seemed very pleased to see us.’

I bet.

‘Solid family’, HAH. He’s hinted he’s from a minted background and now Mum’s opinion of him has shot up. With Geoffrey, Robin’s appealed to his ego, shown due deference to their status as elders of this village. Now Robin has bent and scraped and begged for their approval, shared sensitive intel to sweeten the deal, they’re prepared to back his cause. The whole thing makes me want a scalding shower.