my hands through the hair hanging over my eyes and then through my stubble, the beginnings of a beard. Does Mikey really think things are as easy as that? Just sell something – something?! – and piss off? To Dubai? And what the hell would I tell Zara, if she did actually happen to know this fella, this Leon Taylor, and agree to meet up? ‘Oh, hiya Zara. Remember me? The fella you thought was a rich entrepreneur? Well, I’m skint. Pure skint. And that’s just the beginning, wait ’til you find out where I live … oh, and by the way, love, can you buy us a bevvie?’ I batter on Mikey’s window, willing him to understand.
‘I haven’t got anything to sell,’ I cry.
But Mikey’s indicated and slowly starts pulling out, away from Wong’s, away from the potato skins, away from me. And my string of tiring excuses.
She’s in the day room watching The Chase when I arrive at the hospital. I greet her but get shushed because she’s playing along, trying to answer the questions Bradley Walsh is asking against the clock. I wait with patience, offer ‘Tom Hanks’ as the answer to one question and get an almighty evil look from her in return.
The Chaser wins.
My ma calls it ‘scandalous’ and tells me to switch the bloody thing off. Then I take a seat in the plastic armchair beside her. We’re all alone, the ward quieter than usual, a lull during staff changeover.
‘They’re letting me out tomorrow,’ she says, as if it’s top secret.
‘Well, you look superb,’ I say, and mean it.
‘I feel it, love.’
Her new housecoat, peaches and cream and lined with satin, matches her new cosy slippers, a gift from my sisters. The colour has brought out a natural blush in her cheeks, somehow turning her greying hair to silver. I wish I had a bag of Minstrels for her, or some Revels. She’s such a chocolate fiend and I want to give her whatever makes her smile, even if it is just a packet of sweets.
‘That fall might be the best thing I ever did,’ she chuckles.
‘Don’t say that.’
‘Why not? It’s only brought us all together again, hasn’t it?’
I don’t say anything. The day room’s vacuous silence isn’t pleasant and although I’d been looking forward to being with my ma away from the commotion my sisters like to create, the quiet moments now feel long, and rather bleak.
‘It’s almost as if they never left,’ she says, relieving the sterile air.
‘I feel like a kid again.’
‘Wanting to hide from them every chance you get?’
‘Not half.’
‘Is it bad that I forgot how shrill our Lisa’s voice can be? Me own daughter!’
‘It’s not bad that you forgot at all. It’s miraculous.’
We both share a laugh, a sneaky one, as if the nurses are being paid to spy on us.
‘Eh, Emma’s husband knows how to be heard, doesn’t he?’ She grins.
‘My ears are still ringing from when he first opened his gob.’
‘Do you think he’s one of them Trump supporters?’
‘I’m marching our Emma to the divorce courts if he is.’
‘And the other one, Paul, is it just me or are his eyes a bit too close together?’
‘You think he’s a bit inbred?’
‘I imagine his mother married her cousin.’
‘You’re terrible!’ I cry, my stomach aching from trying not to laugh out loud. And my ma, God, she’s sniggering so much, I actually just saw her slobber. She shushes me, although really she’s shushing herself.
‘I think the most hilarious thing,’ I say, catching my breath, ‘is that they all thought you’d go across the pond to live with them. I mean, can you imagine? Putting up with all that twenty-four seven? They must think you’re crackers.’
It’s my ma’s turn to catch her breath, too. And she sighs, a sing-song of a release.
‘I am.’ she smiles. ‘Crackers.’
‘Well, yeah. That part’s true,’ I tease, winking at her.
She grabs my hand. Well, my wrist. Something firmer than another blip of affection.
‘No, son. I don’t think you understand.’
‘Y’what?’
‘I’m gonna go.’
‘Where?’
‘Where do you think, soft lad? I’m gonna go. With them. To America.’
‘Are you messing?’
‘No, I’m not messing.’ She fiddles with the satin lining on her housecoat. ‘Our Lisa’s been going on about it for ages. Thought it’d finally shut her up.’
‘Ages?’
My ma looks at me, apologetic. If I could replace that thick silence from earlier with the eerie fuzz surrounding me now, I’d do it in a heartbeat. The words ‘go’ and ‘them’ and ‘America’ hang above my head, pressing down like a cloud