Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 120326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
“What are you two whispering about?” Mum asks, turning off the tap and wiping her hands on a dish cloth.
I glance at Liz, shaking my head ever so slightly as an indication for her not to breathe a word of this to Mum.
“Oh, let me tell her, Lana, please!”
“Liz!” I squeal, appalled by her lack of self-restraint.
“Tell me what?” Mum questions, all business.
Before I can prevent her, Liz spills the beans. “Robert and Lana have been seeing one another.”
Mum’s hands immediately fall to her hips. “Say again?”
“Your daughter and my son are in love.”
“Were in love, Liz. Past tense. It’s over now,” I lie.
I swallow hard and look at Mum, seeing a vein practically pop in her forehead.
“Lana, please tell me it isn’t true.”
“Oh, come now,” says Liz. “My boy isn’t the brat he used to be. He’s a grown man. Think about it, Fiona. Our kids could get married — how perfect would that be? We’d practically be sisters.”
Mum’s stern expression softens a touch as she takes in Liz’s enthusiasm. Pulling out a chair, she sits down and gives me a curious look.
“You said it’s over. What happened?”
“Nothing huge,” I lie again. “It just wasn’t working out.”
“Yes, well, maybe that’s for the best.” She folds her arms, satisfied.
“Fiona!”
“Shush, Liz. I’ve nothing against your son, not anymore, but my Lana’s a delicate girl. She’s not made for the likes of Robert. He’d eat her alive.”
My mouth hangs open as I realise how similar her words are to my own. How I’d told Robert we couldn’t be together because of my illness, my fragility. Jesus, had I just been parroting my mother the whole time? All of a sudden, I’m questioning my motives for ending things and wondering if it had simply been my mother’s morals seeping through. Are they so ingrained in me that I didn’t even realise they were there to begin with?
“Ugh, I can’t listen to this,” I say, rising from my seat and leaving the room.
“Lana, I didn’t mean any offence,” Mum calls after me, worry in her tone.
I don’t bother answering her.
A couple of hours later there’s a knock on my bedroom door. I sigh and call for whoever it is to come in. Mum appears and comes to perch by the end of my bed. I sit up, wearing my comfortable pink pyjamas, momentarily feeling like a little kid.
“I know I can come across a touch harsh sometimes,” she says, wringing her hands. “It’s not my intention, I promise. I’m sorry for how I spoke to you earlier.”
I sit up and hug my knees to my chest. “That’s okay, Mum. I know you have my best interests at heart.”
A silence elapses.
“I’ve noticed a difference in you since you’ve come home. You seem sad a lot of the time.”
I make eye contact with her now, surprised that she could tell I’m sad.
“Yeah, I guess I kind of am,” I whisper.
“Is it because of the breakup?”
I nod and glance out the window at the starry night, unable to bring myself to elaborate.
“Well, stop me if I’m wrong, but Liz seems to think that the main reason Robert’s back here is because he wants to be closer to you. If that’s the case, and knowing all of the glitz and glamour he’s given up, I can admit that’s an admirable thing to do.”
I cringe at her and laugh. “Glitz and glamour, Mum, really?”
She waves her hands. “Oh, you know what I mean. The flashy London life his father leads. It seems his move here was meant to show you that all that isn’t as important to him as you are.”
Christ, Mum’s certainly changed her tune. Liz must have given her what-for after I stormed out of the kitchen. And if that’s the case, then the stuff Liz told Mum must be what Robert told her during one of their heart-to-hearts. The thought makes me want to rush from my room, run across the field to Liz’s house, and throw myself at him, beg him to forgive me for being such a coward and ending things. But I don’t, because, as I just said, I’m a coward.
“Is this you giving me your blessing?” I ask her, arching an eyebrow.
“This isn’t me giving you anything, Lana. You’re old enough to make your own decisions. I just wanted us to have a talk. It was long overdue.”
At this she stands, pats me softly on the head, and leaves the room.
The next morning Mum, Gran, and Alison are headed out for a family fun day that’s being held down in the village. I’m in no mood for going with them, so I stay home. Mum asks if I’ll answer the door to Liz when she comes to collect the apple pies Gran left for her. Gran is a seasonal baker. Every couple of months she’ll go through a phase of baking dozens of apple and rhubarb pies and giving them to all our neighbours. She puts cinnamon in them, and they’re a huge favourite throughout the village.
I had planned on having a long soak in the tub, so I leave the front door on the latch so Liz can come in herself and collect the pies. We practically live in the middle of nowhere, so there isn’t much chance of being burgled. Twenty minutes into my bath, there’s a knock at the door.
“It’s open, Liz, come on in,” I call, dipping my head down into the water to rinse the suds from my hair.
Footsteps sound down the hallway. “Uh, Lana?” I hear Robert’s voice call, unsure. “Mum sent me over to collect your Gran’s pies.”
Oh, my God. I leap into the air and slam shut the bathroom door before he can make the mistake of venturing inside.
“Right, yeah, they’re just in the kitchen,” I call, wrapping myself up in a towel. It’s not nearly big enough and only covers as far as my upper thighs.
Robert’s voice seems a mixture of amusement and curiosity as he asks, “Where are you?”
I emerge from the bathroom, which, since I live in a bungalow, is in direct view of the kitchen doorway. I’m about to make a quick dash for my bedroom but find Robert standing there. His eyes eats me up from my head all the way down to my toes.