Chapter 81
ROSIE
I’d been sending messages whenever I could through my shift and tried to call Mum on my break, but my call went to voicemail and my messages showed as unread.
I raced back home as soon as I could, praying I’d intercept her, but it was too late. Our apartment door was unlocked, and Mum was already inside, devastated. She had tears rolling down her cheeks, breaths hitching as she sat next to Trisha on the sofa, both of them with glasses of wine in their hands.
I dropped my bag and crouched by Mum’s side.
“Hey.”
“Julian doesn’t want me!”
My stomach lurched when I heard the pain in her voice.
I put my hand on her knee. “He hardly knows you yet. And you’re drunk.” Trisha shook her head like she was the wise one.
“It doesn’t make any difference,” she said. “He was a twat to her. An absolute prick.”
“How?”
“He practically slammed the door in her face.”
That sounded like rubbish to me. It didn’t seem his style.
“Did Julian slam the door in your face, Mum?”
Mum sucked in a breath. “No… not exactly… he just. He didn’t want me there. It was so obvious it was embarrassing.”
“Yeah. Practically slammed the door on you,” Trisha repeated.
I hated her being so self-righteous. I’d have put money on the fact she’d been cheering Mum on every step of the way.
“The guy is such an asshole,” she carried on. “No wonder they call him fucked up. Arrogant tosser.”
Really, of all the times in my life that I’d wanted to tell Trisha to piss off, this felt like the worst of them. It was her who hadn’t given a shit when I was screaming. It was Julian who’d come racing to save us.
I focused on Mum.
“I’m sure he thinks you’re great, he’s probably just… I dunno…”
“A wanker,” Trisha finished for me. “He’s a wanker, Rosie. Everyone knows it. They say he’s a perv who likes young girls, anyway. Your mum’s probably way too old for that freak.”
I burnt up, skin prickling. Her words were too close for comfort. Luckily, she was too drunk to notice.
“Fucking asshole,” she said. “He’s nothing but shit on a shoe, insulting your mum like that.”
Like hell he was. Insulting my mum was the very opposite of what he’d been doing.
I felt weirdly defensive of Julian, but things would get a whole lot worse if me and Trisha ended up rowing. I forced myself to stay calm. Trisha’s views on Julian meant nothing. Her views on anything meant nothing.
I took the foil-wrapped pizza from my bag, eyes still on Mum. “I’ve got you some food. I doubt you’ve eaten, right?”
Mum shook her head. No, she hadn’t. Surprise.
“Pizza sounds great,” Trisha said, and again, I wished she’d just fuck the hell off.
I’d only just got to my feet when Mum started up with her self-hatred. It always stabbed me deeply, hating how much she hated herself. She didn’t deserve it. I’d meant everything I’d said to Julian. Mum’s heart was in the right place, even if she didn’t believe it.
“If I was better looking, he’d have let me in,” she said to Trisha, blanking me out. “I thought this dress looked good enough on me, but I was wrong. I look shit in it.”
I got the pizza slices ready for the microwave but had to brace myself against the counter, frustrated. I’d heard Mum’s different mantras all my life.
Not smart enough. Not hot enough. Not good enough.
Too dumb. Too ugly. Too weak. Too pathetic. Too useless.
Too worthless for anyone to love…
But I loved her. ME. I loved her with everything I had.
“You’re better off without him, Bev,” I heard Trisha say. “There’s never any smoke without fire. He’s called a sicko for a reason. He probably hangs out at the school gates. Fucking paedo.”
I’d love to know just who said Julian was a sicko, and what he’d done to earn their crappy judgment. He hardly seemed like a criminal to me. This whole place was full of idiots, with their reels of bullshit to add to everything.
I pulled myself together enough to heat the pizza slices, then presented them on a plate. Mum ignored it, still streaming depressive tears and preferring wine, but Trisha tucked in with a thanks. I had no interest in eating with her.
Neither of them acknowledged me as I walked away.NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.
I took off my cap and lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling as my mind ran through the craziness. If only Mum had replied to my messages or answered my call, maybe I could have stalled her. Maybe she wouldn’t have gone up there. But this sorry mess wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my decision to go upstairs trashed, trying to seduce a guy I barely knew.
I’d usually be right in there with Mum, sobbing alongside her, but for once, I wasn’t entirely on her side.
I screwed my eyes shut as a fresh round of sobs sounded from the living room. You’d think Mum would have been more devastated by her ex-boyfriend trying to strangle her than she would by a guy saying no, thank you to a date, but no. It didn’t change the fact Mum was Mum, though. It didn’t change the fact that I cared about her more than life itself.
I was grateful when Trisha upped and left at just gone midnight, telling Mum that Julian was a sicko again on her way. Mum was still sitting on the sofa, staring into miserable space as I locked us in and bolted the door.
I took a seat beside her.
“It’s only one night. You might still get to know him.”
You’d have thought the outcome was set in stone from the way she shook her head.
“It’s obvious he doesn’t think I’m good enough. He doesn’t want to get to know me, and I don’t blame him.”
“You don’t know that. You can’t know that yet,” I said. “If you’d have answered my calls earlier, I would’ve said it wasn’t a great idea to go charging up there after one single night.”
She looked so hurt. “Oh, right. So, I’m in the wrong now, am I? I’m not good enough and shouldn’t have even tried?”
I wanted to shake her. Seriously wanted to shake her. It was another case of her being the lovestruck teenager while I tried to be the parent, and tonight I’d had enough.
“I’m going to bed,” I said. “I’ve got another shift in the morning.”
She looked shocked. “You’re leaving me?”
“I’m not leaving you. I’m going to bed. Maybe you should get some sleep too. You’ve got work earlier than me.”
“I won’t be going. I’m too upset to handle it. I’ll be up all night, with nobody with me. Story of my fucking miserable life.”
That was utter crap. I was always there with her.
I sighed. “Go to bed, Mum.”
“I won’t be able to sleep.”
“Please, Mum. Just go to bed.”
“There’s no point. I feel too fucking shit.”
My usual sweet self would be right there beside her, doing whatever it took to make her happy, but for once, I left her to it. I hugged her before I left, but she barely hugged me back, her lip trembling with the heartache. I almost wobbled with my resolve but I couldn’t. I needed to be ok for work. I needed to bring the cash in, for both of us.
I checked the bathroom cabinet carefully for packets of meds as I brushed my teeth. Mum hadn’t used the threat in years, but it still made me paranoid whenever I saw her crying. There were only a few painkillers and some indigestion pills, but I never wanted to take any chances. I took them with me to my bedroom.
In all honesty, I stood no more chance of sleeping tonight than she did. My stomach was churning with hurt, fear, and guilt. My thoughts spun with how I could have tried harder to prepare the way for her, but I came back to my senses at that. I’d tried hard enough with Julian. He just wasn’t interested in Mum, especially not when she was stumbling drunk after a pub session.
I’d been so caught up in how upset she was tonight that I’d barely given my feelings a hearing. I pictured him standing there in the doorway earlier, and his words came slamming back to me.
It’s not your mother I’m going to be wanting, Rosie, it’s you.
Trisha was probably talking absolute bullshit about the school gates allegation, but there was no doubt that the man upstairs liked younger women. He’d told me so, and his eyes had been fixed so hard on mine as he’d said it. So honest.
It shouldn’t give me tingles. It shouldn’t make my heart race, my skin prickle and my mouth turn dry. He was too old for me. Way, way too old. And even if I did want him, he wouldn’t take it. No way. I’d disappoint him like hell. I’d never even kissed a guy before, let alone one thirty years older than me. I’d have no idea what to do.
I’d want to find out, though…