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Chapter twenty-five

Abby

Ihead back to my place after breakfast with Cam the next morning. He woke me up with his face buried between my thighs, which I’ll be honest, made me rethink my whole not-usually-staying-the-night thing. Once I’d seen stars, he ordered room service breakfast, and I put away a full English before we left together. He headed down to his van to work at The Juniper and offered me a lift back to mine, but it’s a stunning day and I wanted some fresh air.

Is it that, Abby? Or are you still keeping him at a distance?I sigh, shaking my head to dispel the thoughts, and try to be mindful of the walk and not end up in my own head. I have the day off work. Two days in a row feels like a luxury, but then I’ll be working every evening this week and the weekend, so I’ll take this respite while I have it. I need to head back to my place and see if Mum is still kicking around and find out what the hell she wants, and then I want to go to the gym. I check the time on my watch. On Mondays, I normally hit the gym at lunchtimewith Jack—Cass and Tom’s partner—as we’re spotting buddies for each other. I didn’t see him last week, so it’s been a while.

I jog up the steps to my bedsit and unlock the door, wondering what I’ll be walking in to. The door swings open, and I enter, looking around. Did she tidy? Weird. When she stays, her stuff is usually thrown all over the place, but her things seem to be packed into a holdall which sits on the messy bed. Okay, so she hasn’t completely turned into Martha Stewart—the bed is still a massive mess.

“Mum?” I shout.

“Out in a minute,” comes the call from the bathroom. I head over to the kitchen and grab a drink from the fridge. A few moments later, the toilet flushes before she makes her way out. “Hey, have fun with your friends?” she asks.

“Yep, it was good.” This must be it. She’s tidied, and she’s asking about my life. This is where she asks for money.

“I’m gonna head off today. Thanks for letting me stay. I appreciate it.”

I nod my head, waiting for the question. When it doesn’t come, I ask my own one, “Where are you off to?”

“Remember my friend Janey? She’s got herself a place down South and invited me to go and visit. She’s got a spare room. Said I can stay a while.”

“That sounds like a good plan. Where do you know her from?” I steer gently around what I really want to know…whether this friend is a good influence or a bad one.

“I met her at an AA meeting years ago. She managed to stay on the wagon. Has done alright for herself; managing to hold down a job and get herself a place. At first, she was in a bedsit like this,” she gestures around at my place, “but a bigger place came up recently in the same building, so she was able to move across.”

“Nice. You’re gonna stay with her for a while?”

“I think so. We’ve been talking on the phone on and off for weeks. She says the place she works might have vacancies. She works in a supermarket. Gets a discount and everything.”

This is the most we’ve chatted this visit, and the small talk is driving me insane. It’s like we are beating around a hundred bushes. I’m uncomfortable in my own skin while we stand here and pretend to have an ordinary conversation like a normal mum and daughter would when our relationship has never been like that.

“Do you need some money?” It bursts from my lips.

Mum shifts on the spot, and what could be shame clouds her features. “If you have anything spare, I wouldn’t mind borrowing the money for my train fare. And maybe for some food when I get there. Just until I can get settled.” She says it quietly, looking down at her hands clasped together.

“Of course, I’ve got £300 in cash. Is that enough?” I ask, wandering over to the kitchen cupboard and pulling the envelope out, stuffed with twenties.

“Well, if it’s spare.” I glance over and she’s still fiddling with her hands, not looking in my direction.

“Hopefully enough to get you settled. And then your friend can help you get that job, yeah?”

“I appreciate it, Abby. I hope you know that.”

“I do, Mum.” I don’t tell her about the other envelopes I have stashed in various places, in case she needs more. There’s at least a thousand pounds in cash hidden around. And I’ve always been amazed that she doesn’t seem to snoop when she visits because there’s never been any missing. “I can send more. If it takes a while to get settled or your friend wants rent, let me know. I can transfer it to you.”

“Oh, I’m sure there’ll be no need. But thank you. If you have some spare, you should treat yourself.” Her gaze moves around the room. “Get yourself a bigger place.”

I won’t tell her that I don’t want anywhere bigger. It’s easier to have a small place, so she doesn’t outstay her welcome. My stomach churns with the guilt I feel for being a shitty daughter, but it’s always been this way. I’ve always been on my own and done my own thing, and I don’t want anyone else relying on me in the same way I refuse to rely on anyone else. It’s better this way.

“Maybe,” I say with a fake smile, just to get things moving again. “Is there anything else you need?”

“I think the train tickets are cheaper if you buy them online…” Her voice trails off.

“Yeah, usually. What station are you going to?” I pull out my phone and the ticketing app to check the times and prices for her. Neither of us mentions the envelope of cash she stashes in her holdall when I use my bank card to pay for the tickets.

“Well, I’ll head off now. You take care.” She pats my shoulder awkwardly.

“You too, Mum. See you around.”