Once in a Lifetime. Cathy Kelly

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СКАЧАТЬ same when I started; I was just as nervous.’

      ‘That’s very kind of you, Charlie, but you’re only saying that,’ said Karen, still anxious. ‘There’s no way you were nervous. Look at you: you’re so calm and professional about this. I’ll never be like you.’

      ‘Trust me,’ Charlie said, ‘I was just as nervous. If you don’t believe yourself, Karen, believe me, and I’m telling you that you’re well able to do this.’

      When Karen had gone to serve a customer, it struck Charlie as strange that the people who worked with her thought she was calm and professional, while her mother thought she was dithery and unambitious. It was the family box syndrome: your family put you in a certain compartment when you were small and, once you were in it, you weren’t supposed to leave–not in their minds, anyhow.

      Charlie had been stuck in the quiet, will never make anything of herself box, and that’s where she was supposed to stay.

      Well, now she’d decided she wasn’t staying in any box, for anyone.

      Today was her late shift at work, which meant Brendan would pick Mikey up from his friend’s house at six and together they’d make dinner. Brendan was teaching Mikey to cook and they were slowly working their way through a Jamie Oliver book. In fact, Mikey showed great flair for cooking and was improving at such speed, he’d soon be better than his dad.

      ‘Dad, like this–’ Mikey had said the night before, taking one of the sharp knives and cutting a courgette slowly but expertly. ‘You do them all sideways. They’re supposed to be straight, all the same.’ Mikey was dark like his father, with big hazel eyes and spiky hair that fell over his forehead as he worked. His tongue stuck out a little as he concentrated on slicing the courgettes, and that, combined with the intensity on his young freckled face, made Charlie’s heart contract. He was growing up so fast.

      ‘When you get your restaurant, we’ll go there every night,’ Brendan said proudly.

      ‘If you do,’ replied Mikey, still busy chopping, ‘you’ll have to pay like everyone else. I have to make money!’

      ‘Right then, we’ll join the huge queues waiting to get in,’ Charlie suggested.

      Mikey considered this. ‘No, it’s all right, you can skip the queue.’

      ‘Why?’ demanded Charlie, ruffling his hair. ‘Because we’ll be too old and wrinkly and will ruin the look of the place?’

      Mikey giggled, a big smile creasing up his face and making his eyes dance. ‘No. OK, you can eat for free.’

      ‘Same deal as here, then,’ his mother laughed. ‘Everyone eats for free.’

      They were making a beef stew tonight and Charlie was looking forward to it. To add to the whole thing, she’d bought some apple struedel in the food hall and there was cream in the fridge. No matter how enormous the main course, Brendan and Mikey were always like wolves for dessert. Mikey had shot up in the past year, was nearly as tall as his father, and could eat to Olympic standard and still remain lanky.

      It was after seven when she reached her car, a battered Citroën she was passionately attached to despite its decrepitude. Throwing her bag in, she switched on the heater to take the February chill from the air, and then phoned home.

      ‘Hi, love,’ she said as Brendan answered. ‘How was your day?’

      ‘Hello, Charlie. Oh, you know: the usual. It’s over, that’s the thing. How was yours?’

      Charlie thought of the news Shotsy had imparted. She usually told Brendan everything–well, almost everything. She lied by omission sometimes when it came to her mother because Brendan wouldn’t stand for some of the things Kitty said. But tonight, she didn’t want to ruin their evening telling him about DeVere’s. She’d tell him tomorrow or at the weekend, perhaps. ‘Fine,’ she replied. ‘Has Chef started?’

      ‘Braising beef as we speak.’

      ‘He’s amazing,’ she said in wonder. She knew so many people with teenage sons who talked about them as if they were juvenile delinquents-in-waiting, and here she and Brendan had this wonderful son who cooked them dinner once a week. Sure, he grumbled sometimes, and left smelly socks and cycling kit all over his room and was totally deaf when he was at his PlayStation, but he never shouted that nobody understood him or told his parents he hated them, which was apparently the norm. Charlie felt so lucky when she thought about her beloved Mikey. ‘I didn’t know how to braise beef when I was thirteen,’ Brendan said.

      ‘Nor me,’ Charlie agreed. Hardly a surprise, she thought, given that cooking wasn’t at a premium in the Nelson household. ‘And I may never have to again, now that Mikey’s doing it all the time.’

      ‘He’s better at cooking than both of us,’ Brendan added ruefully. ‘Did you get anything for dessert?’

      ‘You only love me because I work beside Kenny’s food hall,’ Charlie teased.

      ‘Is that a yes?’

      ‘Yes, greedy guts. I love you.’

      ‘Love you too. You’re on your way?’

      ‘Yes, just leaving.’

      ‘Drive carefully.’

      Charlie hung up and then deleted the missed call symbol on her phone. Her mother had phoned twice. Once at five minutes to three and again half an hour later. Staff on the floor at Kenny’s weren’t supposed to have their mobile phones on their person during working hours unless there was a specific reason for it. So Charlie, along with most people, left hers in her locker with her bag. Brendan, Mikey, and Mikey’s school all had the direct line into the Organic Belle department, and could reach her in any emergency. The only person, therefore, who left urgent messages on her mobile was her mother.

       ‘I’m at the doctor’s surgery, in the waiting room. I felt faint and I got a taxi to take me. There’s a long queue, mind you. But I’m sure Dr Flannery will see me quickly. He knows my heart’s not good, and that’s more serious than what’s wrong with most of the people here. Call me when you have time. I may need a lift home.’

      Charlie felt the familiar tightening of her temples that foretold a massive tension headache and wondered if she had any ibuprofen in her handbag. Only her mother could leave such a message, dismissing everyone else’s ailments as nothing compared to hers, with the entire surgery waiting room listening.

      The second message was more succinct:

       Dr Flannery wants to do cholesterol tests on me. He’s worried. So am I. I knew this morning that something wasn’t right. I’ll be at home if you can spare the time to phone.

      Charlie clicked off, then switched the phone off totally. Was that what Shotsy meant when she said ‘detach with love’? Charlie wasn’t sure. Between the news about DeVere’s and her mother’s double volley at both ends of the day, Charlie felt wrung out. She wanted to go home, eat dinner with her darling family and not talk to anyone else. What she didn’t want was to be at the beck and call of her mother. Was that too much to ask?

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