‘Nervous?’ asked Pippa.
‘I’m all right, actually,’ I lied. She didn’t need to know that a further hour had been spent on blow-drying my hair, putting it up, then down, then up again. It was longer than it had been in quite a while, falling just below my shoulders, and I’d had a few highlights pulled through my natural auburn colour to give it a lift. I’d settled on pinning it up, and had coaxed a couple of loose curls to fall either side of my face to soften the look. The French manicure I’d had done a couple of days before was holding up well, and I’d kept my make-up light and natural. Effortlessly chic was the image I was going for – I was, after all, only meeting my boyfriend’s mother – but, in reality, I’d done less preparation for a good friend’s wedding.
‘Good luck,’ she called out as I reached the front door. ‘She’s going to love you.’
I wished that I shared her confidence.
I caught sight of Adam watching me as I walked down the path, with a bouquet in my hand, and emphasized my strut. ‘Whoa, you look gorgeous,’ he said, as I got in and reached over to give him a kiss. It went on a little longer than we’d expected and I lambasted him for ruining my lipstick.
‘Yeah, you might need to reapply that,’ he said, smiling as he wiped his lips. ‘You got a spare pair of tights as well?’ His hand travelled up between my legs. ‘Just in case I rip these.’
I looked up at Bill, who was buffing his car bonnet, and playfully swiped Adam’s hand away. ‘Will you stop it? The poor man’s already had one heart attack. I don’t want to give him another.’
‘It’s probably the most action he’s seen in years.’ He laughed.
I tutted and carefully laid the flowers on the back seat. ‘Trying to impress someone, are we?’ he asked, smiling.
‘Oh ha-bloody-ha,’ I said.
‘You feel okay about this?’ He reached over and took my hand in his.
‘A little bit sick,’ I replied, honestly. ‘I’ve only ever met one mum before.’
He laughed. ‘Well that couldn’t have gone too well, then, if you’re here with me.’
I gave him a playful dig. ‘It’s a big deal. If she doesn’t like me, I’m doomed. You probably won’t even give me a lift back.’
‘She’ll love you,’ he said, going to ruffle my hair.
I caught his hand in mid-air. ‘Don’t even think about it. Do you have any idea how long this up-do has taken?’
‘Bloody hell, you don’t even make this much effort when you’re going out with me. Maybe I should introduce you to my mum more often.’ He laughed.
‘I don’t need to impress you anymore,’ I said. ‘I’ve got you wrapped around my little finger, right where I want you. It’s your mum I need to get under my spell now. If I can get her on side, I can rule the world.’ I let out a sinister cackle.
‘I’ve told her you’re normal. You’d better start acting like it.’
‘You’ve told her I’m normal?’ I shrieked, in mock protest. ‘Well that doesn’t make me sound very exciting, does it? Couldn’t you have sexed it up a bit?’ I watched his face break into a grin. ‘What else have you said about me?’
He thought for a moment. ‘That you’re funny, clever, and can make a mean English breakfast.’
‘Adam!’ I moaned. ‘Is that it? Is that all I am to you? A purveyor of sausages?’
We both laughed. ‘Do you think she’ll like me? Honestly?’
‘Honestly, I think she’ll love you. There’s nothing not to love.’
If that was his way of saying he loved me, I’d take it. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do. He hadn’t said it properly yet, but we’d not yet been together for two months, so I chose to see it in the things that he did, like showing up at my office at lunchtime, with a sandwich for me to have at my desk. Or when he turned up at the flat when I had a cold, and laid on the bed with me as I sneezed and sniffed all over him. Those things were surely worth more than three stupid little words? Anyone can say them and not mean them. Actions speak louder, was my philosophy, and I was sticking to it, until of course he said the immortal, ‘I love you’, and then actions wouldn’t mean diddlysquat.
We headed out to the A21 listening to Smooth Radio; it was his mum’s favourite station, he said. It would help get me in the right frame of mind. I could have done with something to think of other than meeting his mum, rather than channelling her favourite tunes into my head.
‘So, what’s she like?’ I asked.
He considered it for a moment, and rubbed at the bristle on his chin. ‘She’s like any mother, I suppose. A homemaker, peacemaker, fiercely loyal and protective of her children. I hope I offer the same loyalty in return. I won’t hear a bad word said about her. She’s a good woman.’
If I wasn’t already feeling the pressure of needing her to like me, his comment compounded it even further. And God forbid, if I didn’t like her, I already knew I was on my own. I had to make this work for both our sakes.
I was thankful when Will Smith’s ‘Summertime’ came on the radio, and we both sang it, word for word, until the line, ‘the smell from a grill could spark off nostalgia’.
‘It’s not “grill”.’ He let out a laugh. ‘It’s “girl”!’
‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous.’ I retorted. ‘Girl? The smell from a girl sparks off nostalgia? They’re at a barbecue, they’re not going to have sausages sizzling on the rack and comment on a passing girl’s aroma, are they?’
He looked over at me as if I was mad. ‘What kind of grill smell would spark off nostalgia?’
‘I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation. Everyone knows it’s grill.’
‘We’ll google it when we get to Mum’s.’
I liked the way he said ‘Mum’s’, rather than ‘my mum’s’. It made me feel more included. ‘This Smooth Radio is a revelation,’ I said. ‘I didn’t have your mother down as a fan of Big Willie Style. Who knew?’
His face changed and a chill filled the car. ‘That’s my mother you’re talking about,’ he said, an edge to his voice. ‘I don’t think that’s very appropriate, do you?’
I laughed, assuming he was playing me along. Though as I watched his features change from soft to pinched, I should have sensed that it wasn’t a joke.
‘Ooh, don’t go getting on your high horse.’ I chuckled, waiting for his face to crack, but it remained taut.
‘You’re being disrespectful.’
I suppressed a giggle. ‘Christ, I was just—’
‘You were just what?’ he snapped. He indicated over to the slow lane and my chest tightened as I played out the next few minutes in my head. I could see him turning around at the next exit. Me being left on the pavement outside the flat, whilst he sped off. How had we gone from joking around, to him rearing up like this? How had it all gone so horribly wrong in such a short space of time?
His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel with both hands. I reached across and gently placed my hand on top of his. ‘I’m sorry,’ I offered, though I didn’t really know what I was apologizing for.
‘Do you want to do this or not?’ he said, his voice softening. ‘’Cause we can just cancel if you’re not ready . . .’
He made it sound like I was the subject of some kind of test. Perhaps I was.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said softly. I didn’t want my voice to sound so conciliatory, but I was so shocked I couldn’t help it.
He flicked the radio over to Kiss FM and we drove the rest of the journey in silence.
4
‘I always vowed I wouldn’t be the kind of mum that would do this, but just let me show you this one.’
Adam groaned as his mother flicked through the large, maroon leather-bound photo album resting on her knee.
‘Oh, stop moaning,’ she chastised. ‘You were the cutest baby.’
She patted the floral fabric of the seat beside her on the sofa, and I sat down.