Rory wanted to take her mum back home with her, but Sheila had insisted on going back to her own flat. Rory made her a cup of tea. Water, with a hint of tea bag and the merest suggestion of milk. Just the way Sheila liked it.

‘Lovely. Thank you. They made me a cup of tea at the hospital but it was like sludge. Couldn’t drink it.’ She took a sip. ‘It’s good to be home and out of that place. The nurses were all lovely but I couldn’t bear it.’ She squeezed Rory’s hand. ‘Thanks for coming, love. I know you hate it, too.’

Rory’s throat constricted. ‘My heart stopped when Barb called to tell me you were at the hospital.’

‘I knew it would. That’s why I told her not to call you.’ Sheila patted the hand she was still holding. ‘It’s just your silly old mother having an old lady fall. Turns out Flo was right about people dropping their wet smalls in the laundry room. Can you imagine how embarrassing it was telling that young male nurse that I’d slipped over a pair of wet Y-fronts?’ She smiled, but her bottom lip trembled a little.

It was that vulnerability which made Rory’s eyes fill.

Sheila held out her arms. ‘Oh, come here, you silly thing.’

Rory lay her head on her mum’s chest and let her hold her close. Imperial Leather and humbugs. That was a far more comforting smell than the disinfectant in the hospital. It was a while since they’d done this. A long while.

‘I thought…’ Rory’s voice cracked. She didn’t trust herself to continue.

‘I can imagine what you thought. You’re not getting rid of me for a long while, my girl. So you can put that right out of your head.’ Sheila stroked Rory’s hair. Then kissed the top of her head and pushed her back into a sitting position. ‘This isn’t like you. The tears. What’s going on?’

Rory wiped her face with the back of her hand. ‘I took your advice and spoke to Belle.’ She shot a look at her mother which warned her against being smug. ‘It didn’t go so well.’

Rory gave a short summary of their conversation and then explained about the photograph. Sheila’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head.

‘Well.’ She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘Well.’

‘I know.’ Rory nodded. ‘I made her show me their whole conversation. She is absolutely livid with me.’ Livid didn’t come close. Belle had threatened to call Childline. ‘Most of their conversation was pretty standard teenage rubbish but the last couple of texts were pretty flirty and suggestive.’ Rory’s heart had sunk lower and lower as she’d read them. How dare some boy talk to her beautiful, perfect daughter like that?

‘So, what are you going to do now?’

Rory shrugged. ‘I have absolutely no idea. I’ve confiscated her mobile, which apparently puts me on a par with Adolf Hitler, but she will still see him at college so that’s not going to make a huge amount of difference. I tried to talk to her about respecting yourself and knowing your own worth.’ She put her hands on her face. ‘Although, as half of that was done at the top of my voice, I’m not sure it had the effect I was hoping for.’

She had really lost her mind after the photograph. It was weird how she could be so calm at school with the shenanigans she had to deal with there, but it had been impossible to keep her cool with Belle. She was almost as angry with herself as she was with her daughter. Almost.

Sheila sipped at her tea. ‘It’s difficult being a mum sometimes, isn’t it?’

Rory sighed. ‘I used to think the tough bit was the night feeds and the nappy changing. Turns out I was wrong.’

Sheila looked at her. ‘The bigger the child, the bigger the problems.’

Rory started to nod in agreement and then noticed the pointed expression on her mother’s face. ‘I’m not a problem! It’s not me sitting here with a bandaged foot.’

Sheila ignored her. ‘I think you did the right thing telling Belle how precious she is. Hopefully that’ll be enough to ensure she’s not pressured into doing anything she’s not ready for.’ She paused and took Rory’s hand again. ‘You are precious too, you know.’

Rory squirmed. ‘Mum. This is not about me.’

‘No. But if you’re allowed to worry about Belle, then I’m allowed to worry about you. It’s time you started to have a life of your own. Between that school and Belle and now this house of yours, I’m not sure what life you are allowing yourself to have.’

Rory pulled her hand away and sat back on the sofa with folded arms. ‘I go out with my friends.’

‘I know. And I also know that you often go home early and refuse to even enter into conversation with anyone of the opposite sex.’

Damn Susie. She should never have let her swap email addresses with her mother. It had only been so Sheila could practise before emailing her friend Jean in Australia. Now they were ganging up on her.

Sheila had obviously been preparing this speech. ‘You don’t seem to realise that you are running out of time to meet someone. You need to hook them whilst you’ve still got your looks. What man is going to be attracted when your boobs are round your waist and you could get a week’s shopping in the bags under your eyes?’

Her mum was joking, trying to lighten the mood. But right now, Rory wasn’t in the mood for jokes. ‘I keep telling you, Mother. I don’t need a man.’

‘None of us have ever needed a man, Aurora. It’s just nice to have one around sometimes. Even if it’s only to open jars and catch spiders.’

‘You bought me that jar opening contraption from the Kleeneze catalogue last Christmas. Job done.’

‘I knew I shouldn’t have done that!’ Sheila softened her voice. ‘Have you dated anyone since Scott? Maybe you just haven’t wanted to tell me?’

She sounded so hopeful that Rory didn’t want to disappoint her. But there had been no one of any consequence. ‘I just haven’t been interested. I mean it when I say I don’t need someone.’

Sheila leaned over and put her hand on Rory’s cheek. ‘I know that. I know that you can do everything on your own. I’m proud of that. I’m proud of you, my clever, brave, beautiful daughter. The way you’ve brought up Belle, your career, even that damn house of yours. I know that you don’t need anybody else to do anything you set your mind to.’

Rory was amazed to hear these words. ‘So why do you go on about it all the time?’

Sheila sat back in chair, but she didn’t take her eyes from Rory’s. ‘Because need is different to want, Aurora. Don’t you want to have someone at home to carry the load? To be there when you can’t? To talk things through with when you have a big decision?’

This was too much. ‘I’ve got you, Mum.’

Sheila paused before she spoke. ‘But I won’t always be here, Rory.’

Rory’s chin trembled. She fought to get it under control. ‘Don’t say that, Mum.’

Sheila shrugged. ‘You asked me why I go on about you meeting someone. That’s why.’

The two of them sat in silence for the next few moments. Rory wasn’t able to speak. Too much had happened today. There was too much to think about. And all of it hurt.

Eventually, Sheila took a deep breath. ‘On the subject of saggy boobs and wrinkles though, I think Flo and Sid might be getting it on!’

Rory took her lead. They needed to balance these feelings with some humour. ‘Really?’

‘I’ve seen him come out of her flat a couple of times. When he saw me, he mumbled something about helping her put up a shelf, but I know that can’t be true. That man is to DIY what Arnold Schwarzenegger is to needlework. Plus,’ Sheila held up a finger like Hercule Poirot, ‘there was no sign of a toolbox. I told Barb and she’s having a field day. Every time she sees Flo she winks at her and asks her how she’s been sleeping. Flo asked me yesterday if Barb has an eye infection.’

Rory laughed. It felt good. She reached over and kissed her mum on the cheek. ‘Well, if even Flo is starting to date, maybe you’re right and I should get a wriggle on.’ She put her palms under her boobs as if to weigh them. ‘How long do you think these babies have got left?’

Sheila pulled her arms back down again. ‘That’s not what I meant. I’m just saying, be open to meeting someone.’

‘Yes, Mum.’

‘There might even be someone under your nose.’

Rory knew where this was going. ‘Mum…’

‘Like, what about John?’ The expression on her mother’s face as she tried to pretend that this idea had come to her out of nowhere was almost endearing.

There it was again. That odd fluttery feeling. Maybe she needed to get her blood pressure checked. ‘He’s my…’ She was going to tell her mother for the hundredth time that John was only her builder, but she didn’t have the strength. ‘He’s not interested in women, Mum. He told me himself.’

Sheila looked very disappointed. ‘Really? He doesn’t look…’

‘Gay? Number one, there’s not a “look”, and number two, I don’t think he’s gay. He’s just happy on his own.’

Sheila huffed. ‘Well, they’re all happy on their own, it’s our job to…’ She stopped when she saw Rory’s face. ‘All right; I won’t say another word. It’s just a shame. I like him. He reminds me of your dad.’

He reminded Rory of her dad too. That was probably why it was so easy to talk to him. Maybe that’s all it was.

‘Obviously he’s a builder like your dad, but I mean he has a similar personality, the way he teases you a bit. Your dad was always pulling my leg. When we were camping once, he told me that spiders don’t like torchlight. He had me walking around for about thirty minutes with a torch tied to each ankle before he and Jean’s Roy fell about laughing. Buggers, they were.’

Rory smiled. ‘We’ve got a lot of good memories, Mum.’

‘That we have.’ Sheila patted Rory’s hand. ‘And it’s time for you to make some new ones. What about this fella of Susie’s? In her last email, she told me he might have a friend for you.’

This was like being fifteen again. Rory had some understanding why Belle had been so defensive. ‘Maybe, Mum. Maybe.’

Sheila sat back as if her job was done. ‘Good. Call her tonight and tell her. Her boyfriend sounds very exciting. Apparently, he has a huge tattoo on his back of a medieval dragon.’