gape at him. How have we got onto hiring a consultant? How much would that cost? And what does that mean anyway, “turbocharge”?
“Don’t worry about that, Jake,” says Mum in that quiet, firm way of hers. “Just keep the place from falling down while I’m away, and we can think about all your ideas when I get back. Now, let me run through a few stock issues.”
She starts to talk about suppliers, but I can’t concentrate. I’m suddenly feeling anxious. It’s as though the situation is hitting me properly for the first time. Mum will be away. I’ll be running the shop with Nicole and Jake. How’s that going to work out?
I half-listen as Mum hands round a list of reminders which she’s handwritten and photocopied. But I’m mostly worrying about Jake. What if he makes some stupid decision and I can’t stop him? I can see Mum glancing at me as though reading my thoughts—and I hastily smile back. My top priority is not worrying her.
At last we finish, and as we get up from the table, Mum draws me aside. The others have already headed into the kitchen, so we’re alone.
“Fixie,” she says gently. “Love. I know you’re worried about…” She hesitates. “Well. Let’s say it. Jake.”
Her words feel like they’re prodding something hidden and sore.
“You know,” I say, looking away, not wanting to admit the truth. “He’s just a bit…”
“I know. He gets his exciting ideas into his head, and he can’t be put off. I do understand.” Mum squeezes my arm reassuringly. “But I’m not going to leave you in the lurch. I’ve got a solution for while I’m away which I think will help.”
“Oh!” I say in huge relief. “Wow. What is it?”
I should have known Mum would have a plan up her sleeve. Maybe we’ll have daily Skype calls with her in Spain. Or maybe she’s hired some new brilliant member of staff. Or a new computer system that Jake can’t get round.
“Uncle Ned,” says Mum with a beam.
My stomach drops like a stone. Uncle Ned? Uncle Ned is the solution?
“Right,” I manage, in a strangled voice, which Mum takes as a sign of approval.
“I’ve spoken to him and he’s promised to keep an eye on things while I’m away,” she says happily. “He’s got a good business head. We can trust him.”
I don’t even know what to say. Uncle Ned?
“He’s so good to us,” adds Mum fondly. “I know he’ll be a comfort.”
“He’s not good to me!” I want to wail. “And he won’t be a comfort!”
“It’s an idea,” I say at last, trying to sound calm and reasonable. “Definitely. But I’m just wondering—is Uncle Ned the right person?”
“You know how helpful he was over the lease when Dad died,” Mum reminds me. “I’ll feel happier if he’s here to support you.”
I want to yelp with frustration. OK, maybe he did help with the lease—but that was nine years ago. What’s he done since?
“I know you don’t like some of the old-fashioned things he says,” adds Mum, pinkening. “And nor do I, for that matter. But he’s family, love, and he cares about Farrs. That’s what counts.”
There’s a light in her eyes—the determined light that appears when she talks about family. She’s made up her mind. And I can’t say anything to worry her. So I smile my most cheery smile and say, “Well, I’m sure it’ll all work out. The most important thing is that you have a fantastic break. You look so glamorous already!”
I reach out to touch her dangling, sparkling earrings, incongruous against her graying workaday hair. (Aunty Karen’s hairdresser in Spain has already been booked.)
“It’s hard to go away and leave you all!” says Mum, with a little laugh, and I can see traces of anxiety appearing in her face. “Harder than I thought. Even now I’m wondering…do I actually want to do this?”
Oh God. She can’t backtrack now.
“Yes!” I say firmly. “You do! We’ll be fine.”
“Just don’t lose the shop, Fixie. Or let the family break up.” Mum gives the same odd little laugh.
I think she’s only half joking. I think she has secret deep-down worries, like I do. “You’re the glue,” she adds. “You can keep everyone together.”
I can what? I almost want to laugh, because she’s so wrong. Mum’s the glue of this family. She leads us all. She unites us all. Without her we’re just three disparate siblings.
But I don’t give away my real thoughts for a nanosecond. I need to bolster