“Mmm, that may well be it. Pregnancy, whatever you choose to do—that sort of life event won’t just pass you by without having an effect,” Janet told me. “And does this make you feel differently about your mother?”
“Well, yeah. I guess I never thought of her as a person, I just saw her as someone who should protect me. And in a way, she did, in the end. It’s my mum who took the pain. No house, living in a hostel on her own, not many friends, she alienated them all while she was with Roy. Court case to try and get her money back, so fucking fragile now that she can’t work, she doesn’t have a life anymore. She was such a mess when Roy kicked us out that she couldn’t make it through a day of work, but look! I’ve followed in her footsteps. Like mother, like daughter. Except this time, I’m the one to blame. Not Roy. I’ve done all this to myself . . .” I trailed off. “Sorry for babbling, I think I’ve got heatstroke. I should go and put my clothes on.” I put the phone down, feeling unease shifting in my chest. The dark thoughts had quieted.
Queenie
Darcy, I think I just had a breakthrough at the Lido. I’d always assumed it would feel good, was obviously wrong, still feel quite bad
Queenie
Also, I could have been put on some sort of child offender’s register for indecent exposure
Maybe I should try yoga for relaxation? Swimming was obviously not my thing, and I hadn’t even made it into the pool.
chapter
TWENTY-FOUR
“HOW OLD ARE you today?” my grandmother asked, sliding an envelope that she hadn’t bothered sealing across the kitchen table.
“Twenty-six,” I replied, my mouth full of porridge. I picked it up and turned it over in my hands.
“Are you sure? I thought you were younger,” she said, watching me as I opened the envelope. “I didn’t write in the card, you get the point,” she said impatiently. “But there’s twenty pounds in there. Maybe you could go to the high street and get yourself a nice top?”
I got up from my seat and walked over to her, bending down and putting my arms around her neck.
“Time flies. Are you sure you’re not twenty-two?” my grandmother said wistfully. “I remember when you were born. My father in heaven, nobody had seen as much hair on a baby’s head. There still hasn’t been one in our family with as much as you.” She sighed. “You were born worried, I remember that, too.” She paused. “Anyway. Better go and clean your skin, then you can start the day. I’m turning the hot water off in an hour.”
“I was thinking, Grandma,” I said before I left the kitchen. “I was wondering if you’d invited my mum?”
“Queenie, listen. I did, and I am not taking the invite back,” she snapped. “Whatever mistakes she’s made, she is my daughter, and your mother. So she is coming to celebrate the birth of her child.”
“No, that’s fine. I think she should be here,” I said.
As I ran the bath and asked my granddad if he would give his sighs a rest for this one day, I replied to birthday messages from people I hadn’t seen for years and probably wouldn’t see again on Facebook. Nothing from Tom.
? ? ?
“How does it feel to be twenty-three?” Tom asked, handing me a cup of tea.
“Rough.” I smiled weakly, putting it on the bedside table. “I think I’m too fragile to ingest at the moment.”
“Nobody told you to have a fourth glass of wine,” Tom said with a laugh, climbing into bed next to me. “Oh, Mum and Dad’s present to you is being delivered today, and they’re calling us at midday. They want to wish you a happy birthday themselves.”
“Why and how are your parents so nice?” I asked. “Oh—you’ve given me the wrong mug.” I showed him the Q.
“I’m surprised you can even see which one you’ve got.” He laughed again, swapping with me.
“This is entirely your fault,” I rasped, my mouth dry. “You know by now what my limits are, and you are wholly irresponsible for not jumping across the pub and knocking that last glass out of my hand.”
“I know, but you’re so sweet when you’re drunk,” Tom said. “No arguing, and all you want to do is cuddle and thank me for looking after you.”
“I lose my need to be defensive when drunk! You’re taking advantage.”
“Trust me, nobody can take advantage of you, drunk or not,” he assured me. “Did you have fun?”
“I think so. That was my first birthday with people and presents in a long time. I haven’t wanted to celebrate it in ages,” I realized. “Thanks for organizing everything.”
“It’s the least I could do for you,” Tom said, grabbing my hand. “Right. If you’re twenty-three now, how long until I get you down the aisle and get a bun in your oven? Twenty-nine and thirty-two respectively?”
“That’s a long way away,” I said, burying my face in his chest. “You might not love me by then.”
“Rubbish. I’ll always love you.”
? ? ?
I shook my head, trying to dislodge a pointless memory. My phone started to vibrate violently in my hand.
THE CORGIS
Darcy
Happy birthday
Kyazike
To you
Darcy
Happy birthday to you
Kyazike
HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYY
Darcy
Dear Queeeeenieeeee
Kyazike
Happy birthday
Darcy
To you!
Kyazike
Ayyyyyyyyyyyyyy!
Kyazike
We want to see you one of these days, you know!
Queenie
You just want your hair done, Kyazike. I’ll be up to it soon
Kyazike
Nah, fam. Just want my Queenie back
I sat in the bath feeling strong enough to reinstall Instagram and remind myself how HAPPY everyone was when I heard the doorbell ring. I listened closely to the shuffle of footsteps and the dull thud of cane on carpet to the front door. “Hi, Granddad!” I heard Diana squeal. “Where is she?”
“She’s where she always is. In the bath.” My granddad sighed his reply. I heard a flurry of footsteps, and pulled the shower curtain across the area of the bath occupied by my body just in time for Diana to come running in.
“Happy Birthday!” she shouted, thrusting a small envelope in my face. “It’s nothing big. Just a gift card to H&M. Only for ten pounds, but still you can buy some accessories or something.”
I reached through the plastic curtain and took it from her. “Thank you! You didn’t have to do that.” I put the card on the bath rack.
“Aren’t you going to open it?” Diana asked me as though I weren’t in the middle of washing.
“Should I see you downstairs?” I suggested.
“No, it’s okay, I’ll keep you company.” Diana lowered the lid of the toilet seat and put her feet up on the radiator. “I was gonna go out with my friends today because Kadija got us half-price tickets to Thorpe Park, but I felt bad if you were just going to be here with Grandma and Granddad on your birthday. How old are you today?”
“Twenty-six. And it’s not so bad. I don’t like birthdays that much anyway.”
“Oh my God, are you joking?” Diana exclaimed. “Birthdays are the best! On my fifteenth, me and my friends went to some Clapham rave, it was wavey. And they all put money in so that we could have a table in the VIP area—”
“VIP? How did you afford that? You’re all babies,” I pointed out.
“Um, excuse me, fifteen means I am almost an adult. Anyway, the night was sickening, I was the center of attention and Mum extended my curfew. That is why birthdays are so good.”
“I’ve never had a birthday like that, and I’m much older than you,” I pointed out.
“Well, maybe that’s why you’re depressed?” Diana asked as though she’d hit a eureka moment. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. No offense. I just mean, maybe if you had more fun times, you wouldn’t think about bad stuff, maybe? I dunno. Sorry.” Diana shrugged, backing out of the bathroom.
I finished my bath, got dressed in a calf-length floral dress that used to be my grandmother’s, and went downstairs. Diana was standing in the hallway with her sneakers on.
“We’re going out,” she said, looking me up and down. “But get changed first.”