by the news that 1. There is another sham of an anniversary party looming (at which I am expected to have an escort so that Mum can kid herself she still believes in love and romance) and 2. Robbie has a wife. And I can’t even get one bloody proper date!
I’m not upset that Robbie has fallen in love. I’m just upset that he’s moved on so successfully and I haven’t moved an inch. I am still the same girl he left behind. Minus the soft furnishings and other belongings that he took with him.
And minus his lovely family. Robbie’s parents are very lovely, especially his mum. She always said I was the daughter she’d never had, and she also said (though I’m not sure if this is good or bad, given the circumstances) that it was wonderful that me and Robbie were together because she was sure I’d want to stay local, which meant he’d never move away. She’d gain a daughter, not lose a son.
So, I’ve let her down on that front as well. And I tried very hard not to. Maybe that’s partly why Robbie and I stuck together for so long. Maybe that’s why I didn’t take the leap and walk away from him earlier.
It’s no wonder that she’s avoiding me now.
I miss her. I miss all of them. When I was in my teens, they were the security that I didn’t always have. They were always all at home on Christmas Day. They weren’t touring Europe in the school holidays – they went away for two weeks and that was it.
I saw more of Robbie’s family than I saw of my own. And his dad always teased me nicely and made me blush.
Bugger. I’ve let them down, and now Dad is going to give me his full-on disappointed look as well. If he even turns up for the party, and if he doesn’t it will be my fault. Because the neighbours will be gossiping about Robbie, and I’ll be standing on the sidelines wallflower style, an embarrassment.
He will point out that I should listen to him, try and act with a bit more decorum and stop being so bloody opinionated. And he’ll say, ‘look at your mother’. Which will make it all one hundred times worse because I know she doesn’t want me to be like her.
She wants me to be happy all the time, not just now and again.
I have no choice. I have to grab the one lifeline that has been thrown my way.
Noah.
‘Are you still there, Rosie? You’ve gone very quiet.’
‘Yes, Mum. Just thinking.’ He’s going to have to be a miracle worker. In fact, when I tell him I’m on a deadline he’ll probably do what Dad would. Laugh and walk away.
I am doomed.
‘Well, darling, mustn’t keep you. Don’t forget to save the date for the party, and you have got to bring your new man! I insist: there you go, I’ve written him on the list. Will you be coming over next weekend? You can bring him with you then if you want?’
She has to be kidding. ‘Sorry, Mum. I’m working.’ All weekend, and the next one. ‘But I’ll ring.’
Okay, so, I need to get my act together. I am going to have sex again, at least once, before I turn into somebody who doesn’t care.
I am also going to show Dad that he has a daughter to be proud of, one he can show off, who is worth coming home for. And maybe this time he’ll hang around a bit longer – at least for the entire party.
The sigh escapes before I can stop it. Last year he left at the same time as the final guests, well ten seconds later for appearance’s sake.
I’d got a bit over-excited and loud apparently. Now before you jump to conclusions, I was not rat-arsed. I was just having a lively debate with one of his friends about how a certain massive retailer isn’t helping small bookshops, like the one I work in, survive.
His friend was a bit like Dad, and ‘always right’, and I am a bit like Dad in that I won’t back down if I know I’m right. And I was.
Dad’s parting words before he left the house were that I needed to calm down, that I was too opinionated, too unladylike, embarrassing.
Robbie tried, in a very polite way, to stand up for me. Which didn’t help.
Dad never really liked Robbie that much. They didn’t have much in common. If