As she ate, Patrick cut out bats from black sugar paper. ‘So, why does your mammy get to you and, more importantly, why do you let her?’
Amy scooped up the last of the chocolate ganache from her plate with her finger. Licking it, she said, ‘Did you know the collective noun for bats is colony, or even better, cloud. Isn’t that wonderful?’
‘I’ll bear that in mind. Now answer the question.’
‘Oh well, you know. You said it yourself mothers are the people who know us the best and can hurt us the most.’
‘And what does she choose to hurt you about?’ He paused in the act of cutting out three small bats in triplicate and sipped his coffee.
‘Oh, a myriad of things. Largely driven by the fact I am a huge disappointment to her as a daughter.’ Amy sucked her chocolatey finger thoughtfully. ‘She used to be fun, when I was little. When she could dress me in pink frills and curl my hair. Before I discovered jeans. I suppose it didn’t help that Dad rejected her in favour of the comely Jasmine and stayed in Singapore. The settlement didn’t leave Mum very well off so she’s trying to maintain vintage champagne appearances on a one bottle a week prosecco income.’
‘Great way of putting it,’ Patrick smiled. ‘Must have been rough on her. I assume the comely Jasmine is younger?’
‘And blonde. And, to be fair a PhD. I quite like my step-mother, actually, although I haven’t seen her and Dad for over a year.’ Amy stared into her coffee.
‘Must be rough on you too,’ Patrick said, gently.
‘Yeah well. If I want an exotic holiday or a stopover on the way to Oz, I’ve got one all sorted. Every cloud and all that.’ Amy’s tone was blithe but the hurt slithered through. She sipped some coffee before continuing. ‘Mum’s also never forgiven me for choosing to live independently. But honestly Patrick, it might seem cruel to leave her on her own but if we lived with one another, I would’ve strangled her by now.’
‘And sure, matricide is never pretty,’ he said, dryly. ‘There’s more than once I considered it myself. In the end I was saved the bother.’
Amy eyed him curiously. She was about to ask him why when the shop door jangled. Getting up to see to the customer, she paused. Maybe if she told him the worst thing about herself he might open up in return? Before she went, she said, ‘And then there was the Great Jilting Drama. I was the talk of Berecombe for, ooh, weeks.’
She could sense Patrick staring after her as she greeted the customer and led him to the non-fiction section. After selling him an atlas, she returned to the table, feeling Patrick’s eyes still on her. It was a bit of a drastic gamble but if Patrick was to spend any more time in Berecombe, he’d hear about it soon enough. And, at least if she told him herself, she could tell him the truth and he wouldn’t believe one of the rumours which had flown about town.
‘Talk about dramatic timing,’ he said, sitting back and staring at her in disbelief. ‘Think you should join the BADs after all. You can’t drop a bomb like that and walk off. You were jilted? Or did the jilting?’
‘Oh Lee jilted me. Went along with all the plans right up to the morning itself. In fact he palled up with Mum, who had gone completely overboard, as you can imagine. Dad and Jasmine flew over, a couple of uni girlfriends were to be bridesmaids, we booked the church and the reception for two hundred at a hotel near Honiton. I’d even found a dress that didn’t make me look too much like an oversized lampshade.’ She picked up her mug and drained it. The coffee was cold by now but she needed it. Throughout, her voice had been level but there was no mistaking the humiliation and pain simmering underneath the matter of fact tone.
‘So, what happened, darlin’ girl?’
Amy’s bottom lip quivered. She clattered their mugs and plates together to hide the hurt. ‘He wasn’t there when I turned up at the church. They’d tried to get a message to me but turns out there’s no pockets for a mobile in white shot silk. I’d got as far as the church porch before the vicar and Lee’s best man blocked me. Mum gave me back my phone out of her bag and he’d sent me a text. A fucking text to say he couldn’t go through with it.’ She turned a pale face to Patrick, her huge blue eyes shimmering with tears. ‘Mum had to go to the altar and announce it was all off. I don’t think she’s ever forgiven me the humiliation.’
‘And now,’ she said as she stood abruptly. ‘If we don’t get started on these Hallowe’en decorations, it’ll be Christmas before we know it.’ She’d stalked off to find the stepladder without waiting for his response.