Page 74 of In Just One Day

‘I know it’s not your doing, but please, please don’t give up on Dad.’

Kate waved her hand. ‘Oh, Flora, I’m too tired to even think about that.’ She slipped under the duvet, pulling it up around her.

‘Mum, please?’

Kate sighed. ‘The truth is, darling, this isn’t just about forgiving your father for what he’s done.’

‘But—’

Kate put her hand on Flora’s arm. ‘It’s not just about his actions. I’ve lost a son and that’s devastating. But I’ve also been betrayed, and I have to learn to live with knowing I’m not good enough for the person I love, the person I thought loved me.’

‘Mum, that’s not true…’

‘I’m afraid it is. And the worst thing about being rejected by someone is that it doesn’t make you hate them. In fact, it makes you love them even more.’ She looked up at her daughter. ‘I just need some time, that’s all. To figure out what I want to do. Which is why I’ve asked him to go, so that I can do that without him here. I’m sorry, I know that must be hard for you, especially after…’ Kate shook her head, then looked up at Flora. ‘But it’s just how it’s got to be, for now, at least.’

Flora nodded slowly. The pain in her mother’s eyes was almost impossible to bear. She hugged her again, then kissed her mother’s head and turned to leave. Just before she left the room, she turned back. ‘Mum?’

‘Yes, darling?’ Kate reached for her mug.

‘I love you.’

‘I love you, too. Sleep well.’

Lying in her bed in her old room that night, Flora found that sleep refused to come. She couldn’t stop thinking about seeing her mother like that. Flora grabbed her phone and tapped out a message to Johnny, the screen lighting up her face in the dark.

I miss you x

She put the phone back on the table and turned towards the window, the shapes in the dark so familiar even after all these years. The bears on the windowsill, the dressing table covered in half-used bottles of perfume, photo frames crammed with images of her teenage life, all still just as they were when she left home. Her phone pinged. She turned back and tilted the screen towards her.

I miss you too x

32

‘Pass me the tape?’ Tilda pointed at the roll of Sellotape in the middle of the table. ‘Actually, pass me the wine first.’

Flora, Tilda and Susie sat around the marble-topped island in Susie’s kitchen. Not that it could be seen for all the wrapping paper and bags of sweets piled up in the middle.

‘So, tell me again how exactly we got lumbered with this job?’ Flora topped up the wine in Tilda’s glass, then Susie’s, then her own, draining the bottle. Their second, she noted. It seemed to be going down like water for all of them, even Susie.

‘It’s Tilda’s fault.’ Susie pointed at her without looking up from her present wrapping.

‘Oh, come on. At least we don’t have to bake anything. This way we just have to wrap a few presents for the kids whilst, I’d like to point out, drinking really nice wine.’ Tilda had volunteered them to do present wrapping for the children for the School Christmas Fair. She’d chosen to ignore the no-sugar rule in the guidelines promptly issued by the head of the PTA, instead clearing the shelves of small packets of sweets in the local supermarket.

‘Susie,’ Flora reached for the empty bottle, ‘you do know this is a really expensive bottle?’

‘Is it? I’ve no idea – first one I found in the fridge.’

Tilda picked up her glass and sniffed. ‘Now you mention it, it does smell expensive. How much would this go for?’

Flora looked at the label, noting the producer. ‘Well, the producer is a bit of a cult figure. I think this goes for around forty pounds a bottle.’

Tilda choked. ‘Bloody hell, really?’

Flora laughed. ‘Yes, really.’ She looked at Susie, who carried on sticking down paper as if she hadn’t heard. Flora caught Tilda’s eye for a second.

‘Well, I’d rather do this than make mince pies any day.’ Susie looked up at them, picking up the empty bottle from the table. ‘Shall I get another one?’

Soon, the wrapping was done. They sat around, piles of wrapped sweets stacked neatly into boxes, their cheeks flushed with wine and laughter. Tilda finally broached the subject Flora wanted to but didn’t dare.