She stared out at the rain again, listening to the steady drumming on the window and hoping it might anaesthetize her into a state of tranquillity. People around here didn’t talk as much about the weather as those from Croydon or Tooting. They could afford to escape it, and often did for weeks at a time.
She looked at the clock. At least Daniel would be here in a few minutes to mark the halfway point in the day. Newly ensconced in his flat, he was taking her to lunch and they were going to buy some new bedding. He’d moved in on Monday, but had been staying at hers ever since the party. He’d been upset with his mother, something she’d never seen before.
She’d cheered him with details of the white-water rafting trip she’d booked (quickly, the day after the party, when he’d gone home to pack his things). He’d deliberately timed his return to the family home, his last one as a resident, to be when his dad was at golf (something Cherry was starting to get suspicious about, the number of times his father played golf, and made a mental note to pursue that one) and his mother had gone to visit a friend. He’d then effectively moved out, leaving a note for his mum with a promise to call soon. Cherry was fairly certain he still hadn’t made that call. She was currently trying to work out whether to encourage him to call – such mature, magnanimous behaviour could only draw him closer to her – or let the anger towards his mother fester some more. It was a tricky decision.
Daniel hooked his hood over his head against the rain and, shoulders hunched, forged his way through the few streets to Cherry’s office. He was hoping to get the shopping out of the way as quickly as possible and suddenly wondered why he hadn’t just let her pick something out herself. He didn’t much care what the bedding was like but recognized he needed some and was grateful to her for taking the hassle out of it and amused by how much enjoyment she seemed to take from the prospect of buying it.
He knew he was falling deeply for Cherry and this made him happy. Everything about her, about them, seemed so compatible, so much fun, so easy . . . except for the growing conflict with his mother, of course. He was angry that her hints about Cherry being a gold-digger had become public and caused real upset. He didn’t understand why she was so set on it – everything pointed to the opposite. Cherry’d bought him a ridiculously expensive painting, for God’s sake! If anything, Cherry was the more generous of the two of them. Even when he had helped out, buying her airline tickets, he’d practically had to force her to take the money. Just thinking about it all made him angry again and he sighed; he hated confrontation and wished his mum would just see Cherry for who she really was and be happy for him.
It had been something of a relief to move out. It had been bad enough on holiday, not wanting to fall out with his mother but at the same time feeling uncomfortable with her growing disenchantment with Cherry. The leading questions, the little comments, the general lack of warmth, which had seemed to increase over the days, had grated on him and he’d found it draining to keep on fending them off like a UN peacekeeper. He also didn’t like his life resembling a soap opera – it embarrassed him, as did the little episode at the barbecue on Saturday.
The day after, he’d received a text saying, ‘I hope you know this, but just to be sure, I promise I didn’t push her in. Love, Mum x.’ He didn’t want to get into it any more and was annoyed it was still hanging over him; consequently he’d not yet replied, though he knew that he would have to call soon, if only to stop the whole thing from escalating. Perhaps after he’d had lunch with Cherry today, he would ring and say that if they were all to get on in the future, she would need to back off a bit and stop thinking Cherry was only with him for his money. His mates had also texted, taking the mick in the way that blokes do, and Will had Photoshopped the words ‘Laura’s Swim School’ over a picture of a daredevil diver crashing into a swimming pool and added, ‘Your mum given any more lessons lately?’
In a way, his mother’s recent reticence towards Cherry had only strengthened his affection for her. He liked uncomplicated women and she was just that, and despite how she’d been treated, she had not once complained about his mother to him and he admired her for it. She just seemed to get on with it, to continue enjoying life. Thinking about her cheered him and he quickened his step. It was time to get the horror of shopping out of the way; then maybe she’d come over tonight and help him try out the new sheets.
The clock strained towards one and then finally it clicked past, a flag placed on the top of a mountain after a strenuous climb. Cherry had the one-o’clock slot this week. Abigail and Emily had to wait until two, and Neil was walking back in now. A system to cover the lunchtime ‘rush’, although it was doubtful flocks of people would be flooding in to rent or buy houses on a day like today. The door went again, and as it was so quiet, all heads tilted up and Cherry was pleased to note that Daniel had such an audience. She looked up to greet him herself, but the smile died on her lips.
‘Hiya, love!’ called Wendy self-consciously from across the office, with a silly little wave as she took down her umbrella and rivulets of water fell to the floor.
Cherry sat there, unmoving, the horror and growing panic rooting her to the chair as she tried to fathom out what the hell her mother was doing there.
Wendy was still waiting for some form of greeting and edged further into the office, hopping towards Cherry’s desk, aware that everyone was looking at her.
‘Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to shock you or nothing, but I’ve not heard from you since you was away, and as I got today off work and had no plans – boss has gone and changed the shifts – I thought, well, we talked about me coming up to see you and—’
Cherry stood abruptly, a defensive action against the tirade, a spewing of words that could reveal anything, and Wendy, thank God, stopped talking.
Cherry could sense everyone in the office watching her and pictured smirks, looks of pity. Her mother was wearing white capri jeans, no doubt from the clothing section of the supermarket where she worked, and they were splattered at the back with dirt from the wet streets. As were her calves. Her gaze went further and she saw her mum was wearing sandals – sandals on a day like today – and her toes also had mud on them. Of all the times she had felt ashamed of her mum, this was a new low.
‘I’m soaked right through – it’s pouring out there,’ said Wendy by way of explanation. And then Cherry felt a pang of guilt, knowing her mother had caught her repulsed look. ‘Thought we could go for some lunch, love?’
A whole new wave of horror engulfed Cherry. Daniel would be here at any moment. She sent a stricken look to the door. Perhaps she could get rid of her mother somehow, make up something about being so busy that she couldn’t do it, pacify her with a promise of something else another day. But it was too late. She saw Daniel cross the road and come up to the agency. The door opened and all heads turned again.