‘Please don’t get angry, Jess. I know it was wrong of us to go behind your back but you can see how passionate Mia is about art. I honestly didn’t think that one Saturday morning a week was going to be such a big issue.’
‘You and Mia both lying to me is a big issue. You know Mia doesn’t have time for hobbies this year. How can she expect to get into Cambridge if she doesn’t apply herself?’
Jess turned her head in time to see another surreptitious glance pass between her mum and her daughter: if she hadn’t had to look back at the road, she’d have sworn her mum had nodded at Mia.
‘Well, that’s the other thing, Mum. You know I love art – I’ve always loved it – and this course … Well, the tutor seems to think I’m pretty good. Really good, actually. She thinks that if I got a portfolio together I’d have a really strong chance of getting on an art foundation course after my A-levels. And when I spoke to my art teacher at school, he said the same thing. They’ve even said they’ll write me references. So, the thing is … I don’t think I want to go to Cambridge.’
Jess was aware of words forming sentences but when she tried to replay them in her head she couldn’t seem to structure them into meaning. ‘What are you talking about, Mia? Of course you’re applying to Cambridge. You want to study English. That’s been your plan for as long as I can remember.’
‘No, that’s been your plan. You’re the one who’s always wanted me to go to Cambridge. You’re the one who’s been talking about it for as long as I can remember. Have you ever even asked me what I want?’
‘What’s got into you, Mia? Where’s all this come from?’ Jess pressed her foot down hard on the accelerator, watched the speedometer edge over the speed limit.
‘Slow down, Jess. Please. Just listen to Mia. Let her explain.’
Jess swerved into the outside lane, felt the pressure in her knuckles as her hands gripped the steering wheel. ‘Please don’t tell me how to behave with my own daughter. You’ve clearly been party to all this, and for some inexplicable reason have chosen not to tell me, so I’m not really in the mood for maternal advice from you.’
She pulled back into the middle lane, eased her foot off the accelerator, and glanced again in the rear-view mirror. As she watched Mia undo her ponytail and retie it, it became perfectly clear to Jess where the idea had come from. ‘It’s Phoebe, isn’t it? She’s put you up to this. I knew I shouldn’t have let that family anywhere near us. They’re toxic. This is all her idea, isn’t it?’
She sensed the tension in the car thickening, as though an invisible wall were being erected down the middle with Jess on one side, and her mother and daughter on the other.
‘For goodness’ sake, Mum, can’t you even credit me with making my own decisions? This has got nothing whatsoever to do with Phoebe. If anything, it’s Granny who’s made me realise that it would be madness to spend my whole life doing something I don’t want to do. I want to make you happy and proud of me, but can’t you just let me do it in my own way?’
There was a heaviness in Jess’s head, like the metal shutters of a migraine being drawn over her eyes. She felt oppressively tired, an overwhelming desire for the world to stop and let her off. ‘I don’t know what you’ve been saying to Mia, Mum, but whatever it is, please can you tell her that you didn’t mean it, that she’s got it wrong. Please tell her that she needs to apply to Cambridge, just like she’s always planned, even if she’s having a bit of a wobble.’
‘I’m not having a wobble. Why can’t you listen to what I’m saying? It’s not my dream to go to Cambridge. It’s yours. You’re the one who’s jealous of the fact that Aunt Lily went to Oxford when you didn’t get the grades for Cambridge. You’re the one who was pregnant by the time you sat your finals and who’s spent the rest of your life regretting it as far as I can see.’
‘That’s not true and you know it. Of course I don’t regret it. How could I possibly regret having you? I love you. You’re the best thing I’ve ever done with my life.’
‘It is true. You want to live your life through me. You want me to do all the things you failed to do when you were younger. You want me to have all the same ambitions you used to have, just because you never got to fulfil them. And that’s just not fair.’
Jess drove as though her body had taken control of the car with no input from her brain. This was one of those rare moments when she dared to imagine how different her life might have been were she not always having these parental conversations alone.
As she pulled into the mid-stay car park at Heathrow’s Terminal 5, Jess let Mia’s words settle in her head. She could sense her mum staring at her but was too angry to turn and meet her gaze. ‘Mia, I know you’re passionate about art, but that doesn’t mean I should stand by and let you make mistakes I think you’ll regret for the rest of your life. It’s my job, as your mum, to protect you as much as I can, sometimes even from your own decisions.’
‘But I don’t want your protection. If I’m going to have regrets, I want them to be mine, not yours. I’ve spent my whole life trying to be what you want me to be. I’ve never got into trouble, I’ve always got straight As, I’ve never set a foot wrong because it felt like you only loved me when I was doing everything right—’
‘Come on, Mia, that’s not fair. I’m sorry if—’
‘Yes, it is, Mum. That’s what it’s always felt like. Can’t you just let me do this one thing I want to do without making me feel as though somehow I’m letting you down?’
In the seconds that followed it seemed to Jess that every possible response ran through her mind. As she wound her way up the narrow ramps of the car park in search of a free space, it struck her that this was one of those moments when the stitches of her relationship with Mia eased loose and there was no way of knowing what pattern they would form when they finally knitted back together. She knew, deep down, that it was only a matter of time: that she would, in the end, give her blessing, grant Mia the autonomy she craved if only so as not to lose her. But now, without understanding why, she couldn’t seem to find the words to communicate any of that to Mia.
‘I only want what’s best for you.’
‘Fine. So stop going on about Cambridge and let me go to art college. I’m going anyway, whether you want me to or not.’
As Jess nudged the car into a parking space she imagined getting out, folding her arms around Mia, holding her close and blanketing their conflict in an embrace. She imagined reassuring Mia that she could never disappoint her, not really, because even the greatest maternal disappointments were shrouded in love.
But before Jess had a chance to do any of that – before she had found in the gap that had opened up between them the words to tell Mia that of course she would support her, whatever she wanted to do – Mia was getting out of the car, wishing her grandmother a good trip, slamming the door and storming off towards the exit.
Jess yanked at her seat belt, the buckle sticking. She thrust her fingers down on the release button until she’d managed to free herself, clicked open the driver’s door and scrambled out, an apology forming on her lips. But her words dissolved into the ether as Mia strode away, already halfway across the car park. Jess hesitated, contemplated following her, but then she glanced back into the car to see her mum looking at the clock on the dashboard, anxiety pinching the skin between her eyebrows. Jess looked up again and watched Mia go, watched her little girl get smaller and smaller until she had jumped through the lift doors and disappeared altogether.
Chapter 49
Lily
There was a bleeping from Phoebe’s phone and Lily watched – her skin prickling with irritation or heat, she wasn’t sure which – as Phoebe read a message and tapped out a reply.