“I love your daughter, very much.”
“I hope you do,” she said. “Because I’m going to have one helluva job convincing George to let you stay. It’s not going to be easy.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Sorry?”
She waggled my letter. “This,” she said. “You can take it back. You need to get my daughter through her exams.”
“You don’t need to do this.” I raised my hands. “You have every right to be angry. You have every right to want me out.”
“But I don’t,” she said. “And that’s the problem. I should but I don’t.” She took a step towards me, handing me back the letter. “The way I see it, Mr Roberts, there isn’t so much black and white in the world as there are colours. So many different colours. And sometimes things don’t fall into boxes, and what’s the point in forcing them?”
“I’m not sure, Mrs Palmer, I’ve always celebrated colour.”
“You’re as old as I am, you know.”
“I’m aware of that,” I said.
“She might grow out of this. She might move on one day, get bored. She is still young.”
“I’m aware of that, too,” I said.
“You won’t be able to see her all the time, George isn’t going to go for that, no matter what I say. And she needs to study, she needs to knuckle down and pass her exams.”
“I’m very aware of that,” I said. “Don’t worry, Mrs Palmer, I’ll do right by Helen, you can be sure of that.”
She smiled. “I hope so, Mr Roberts, because I’m sticking my neck right on the line for this, and my George isn’t going to take it easily.”
Her support moved me, I felt the lump in my throat. “There has never been anyone else, not like this,” I said. “I’m not in the habit of doing this. I just wanted you to know, this was purely a one-off, this was purely Helen.”
“I’m aware of that,” she said. “Despite what George would have you believe, I’m not such a bad judge of character, Mr Roberts.”
“It’s Mark,” I said. “You should call me Mark.”
She smiled, and shook my hand. “Angela,” she said.
***
Helen
I waited for ages. Forever. Flitting my eyes between the dashboard clock and the lights still shining from the main corridor. I stepped from the car and was about to head back inside when the lights turned out. Mum and Mark came into view, walking in the shadows, walking slowly, talking, and I couldn’t hear any anger, which had to be a good thing.
My heart felt jumpy and weak, but my legs carried me just fine. I slammed into Mark and he was ready for it, he was warm and steady and listened to me rattle off a load of questions before he took my hand in his and turned me to face Mum.
“We’ve covered a bit of ground,” Mum said. “I’m not saying this thing is right, but I can’t put my hand on my heart and say it’s wrong, either.” She shrugged. “Anyway, I’ll do what I can. I’m going to try and make things right with your dad.”
I took a breath. “He won’t listen…”
Mum sighed. “He’s going to have to listen, Helen. I’m sick to death of the whole sorry lot of it these past few weeks. It’s never worth it, not all this, not tearing our family apart. Not seeing you like you have been. Nothing can be bad enough for all that, love.”
“But… he’ll be so angry…”
She pulled me from Mark and I didn’t fight it. She held me in her arms and I cried again, but this time they weren’t sad tears, they were the happy tears of relief. “You leave your dad to me, love.”
I squeezed her tight. “Thanks, Mum.” And there was nothing else to say. No other words that felt right.
She turned to Mark. “I think it’s best Helen goes home with you, just until the dust settles a little. It might be for a few days… I’ll see how he takes it.” She let go of me, took my hand in hers. “I’ll drop some of your things off tomorrow, just until this is all cleared up, alright?”
I nodded.
“No more secrets, hey?”
“No more secrets.”
She looked back to Mark. “You’ll take care of her?”
“Of course. It will be my pleasure.”
We walked slowly to her car, and Mum had instructions that made me smile.
“Please make sure she eats, she’s a sod for not eating her vegetables, but if you put them in a stew she doesn’t notice.”
“Mum!”
“She doesn’t drink enough, either. She needs to drink more water, or she’ll shrivel up one of these days. It’s not good for your organs, Helen. You can’t survive on orange juice. It’s full of sugar.”
“Mum!”
“She stays up too late, as well. Sometimes I have to drag her from her pit and stick her cereals in front of her, otherwise she’d be there all morning. Please make sure she gets to bed.”
I rolled my eyes. “God, Mum, seriously.” But I was laughing, and it felt so nice to laugh again.
“Duly noted,” Mark said.