‘Just take off your jackets. Make yourself at home. Can I get you tea or coffee? Water, juice?’
‘Coffee,’ they answered in unison.
I nodded, all nervous energy. ‘No probs.’
But Cole’s appearance in the doorway stopped me in my tracks. I put my arm around his shoulders and led him back towards Mick and Olivia. ‘Cole, this is Mick and his daughter, Olivia.’
Mick grinned at him and stuck his hand out. Cole took it tentatively. ‘Nice to meet you,’ he murmured, letting his hair hang in his eyes so he didn’t have to look directly at them.
‘You too. Jesus, you’re the spitting image of your dad when he was your age.’
‘He’s nothing like Dad,’ I said tersely.
Olivia’s eyebrows rose and she shot a look at her father before she said admonishingly, ‘Way to go, Dad.’
Looking uncomfortable, Mick sighed. ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’
Way to go, Jo. ‘I know.’ I waved him off, feeling bad for my waspishness. ‘I’m a little sensitive around that subject.’
‘Understood.’
‘Cole, I’m Olivia.’ She stuck her hand out and Cole’s cheekbones flushed a little as they shook hands. ‘It’s good to meet you.’ She glanced around the sitting room, her eyes brimming with approval. ‘You guys have a really nice place.’
‘Jo does all the decorating.’ Cole surprised me as he informed her about that almost enthusiastically. ‘The wallpapering, painting, sanding … everything.’
‘I’m impressed.’
I felt Uncle Mick’s smiling eyes on me. ‘All my teaching stuck with you, eh?’
Embarrassed, I shrugged. ‘I like decorating.’
‘Aye, we know.’ Mum’s voice had me sucking in my breath as we all turned to watch her shuffle into the sitting room. ‘You do it often enough.’ Cole and I exchanged glances, utterly taken aback by her appearance. She hadn’t just showered; she’d gotten dressed. Her hair was blow-dried smooth, she had some make-up on and she was wearing a pair of skinny jeans that were loose on her frail body, and a black silk shirt I’d bought her for Christmas even though I never thought she’d wear it. To us she looked better than she had done in ages, but when I glanced back at Uncle Mick I could see the shock in his eyes at her appearance.
He stepped past us and towered over Mum, who gave him a small smile. ‘Fiona. It’s good to see you.’
She nodded, her mouth trembling a little. ‘It’s been a long time, Michael.’
‘Aye.’
‘You look almost the same.’
‘You don’t, darling,’ he replied softly, something like anguish in his voice.
Mum lifted her shoulders in a gesture of resignation. ‘I did what I could.’
Uncle Mick didn’t say anything, but I could see from the hard set of his jaw that he didn’t think she’d done enough. We would be in agreement on that one.
‘Dad.’ Olivia moved to his side, taking his hand reassuringly, and I felt the last of my resentment towards her disappear. How could I resent someone who so obviously adored Mick?
Uncle Mick tightened his hand around his daughter’s. ‘Fiona, this is my girl, Olivia.’
And just like that it all went to pot.
Mum pursed her lips as her eyes drifted over Olivia. ‘Aye, she looks like that American piece you had a thing with.’
I squeezed my eyes shut in mortification and heard Cole’s low groan beside me.
‘Fiona,’ Mick scolded her.
‘Dad, it doesn’t matter.’
‘Pfft.’ Mum looked past her to me. ‘You told me it would just be him. I’m going back to bed. Leave me some dinner later.’
I nodded, my muscles tense as we waited for her to leave. When her bedroom door slammed closed, I sighed. ‘Sorry, Uncle Mick. That’s about as good as it gets with her. Olivia, I’m sorry …’
‘Forget it.’ Olivia waved me off. ‘It’s not a problem.’
‘I can’t believe that’s the same woman.’ Mick shook his head as he strode across the room to take a seat, his body seeming heavy with the shock. ‘I just can’t believe it.’
I thought of how Mum had actually behaved fairly well, at least until she saw Olivia, but I didn’t want to tell Mick that. ‘Believe it.’
Like a turtle that had poked its head out for a little sunshine only to discover that it was raining, Mum retreated back into her shell even worse than before. She rarely left her room, a crate of alcohol was delivered to the flat, and the only way I knew she was alive was that the food I’d leave for her disappeared. Anytime I knocked to check on her, she grunted at me to go away.
I wanted it to be black and white. I wanted to hate her for hitting Cole and not give a shit whether she lived or died, but I found I just couldn’t abandon her entirely.