Free Greatest Love Story of All Time by Lucy Robinson Page B

this person.
    Michael sprang up. ‘Quite right, Mrs O’Callaghan,’ he said brightly. ‘You’ve got a very special daughter!’ Everyone, except Alex, smiled. ‘Don’t worry about him,’ Michael said, when I joined him at the bar. ‘He can be a right wanker. Ignore!’
    I felt safe and warm and loved. ‘OK,’ I said, beaming up at him.
    Another hour later, Mum was absolutely steaming and I was in hell. I sat rigidly next to Michael with a sickening tension headache pounding at my temples. Mum had already told Michael about my ‘shabby’ father leaving her when I was thirteen and was now slurring on about the affair she’d been having ever since, with all of its attendant petty dramas. Leonie and Dave had seen this often enough, but for this to be Michael’s introduction to my family was crucifyingly awful.
    ‘His wife, Laura, is one of the most poisonous women you could ever hope to meet,’ she whispered conspiratorially. ‘And the way she keeps their house is disgusting. I’ve only been there once but I saw all I needed to see. There was a
multipack of crisps
in their downstairs cloakroom,’ she told him, with a shudder.
    Michael’s lips twitched as he shook his head politely. ‘Disgusting,’ he said, with just the right level ofaffected horror. I squeezed his hand under the table.
    ‘It’s time to get you into a taxi, Mum,’ I said eventually. Seeing her like this was too sad. I wanted to enjoy the last hour of Gin Thursday with Michael’s and my friends, who were giggling about something at the other end of the table – probably Knut’s fixation with anal sex. Stefania had finally given in and had a glass of wine. Now she was red-cheeked and shrieking with laughter at whatever Leonie was saying. She was really quite pretty, I thought, as she fell sideways on to Dave mid-laughter. On the rare occasions that Stefania actually drank, she always flirted with Dave. Freya looked on calmly; she had seen it all before. Alex was staring at Leonie with guarded eyes but she was ignoring him. Jenny and Dmitri had gone home.
    Mum stood up, then sat down again. ‘Dear me, Fran,’ she said, ‘that wine hasn’t done me any good at all. And, you saw me, I only had two glasses.’ As Michael got up to fetch her coat her eyes beseeched me not to take her to task on the bottle of champagne she’d probably downed at the opera. Or the gin and tonics she’d probably had at Harvey Nicks. Guilt and shame hovered wetly in her eyes.
    ‘’Bye, Eve,’ Leonie said, coming over to kiss Mum’s cheek.
    ‘Ah, Leonie, goodbye,’ Mum said, trying to sound grand again. ‘You’ve heard about Fran’s promotion?’
    ‘Yep. She was always destined for big things,’ she said enthusiastically.
    ‘So, too, were you, dear,’ Mum said shrewishly to her. I froze.
    Leonie’s eyes stopped smiling but her mouth stayed fixed. ‘Fran’s flying the flag for both of us,’ she said carefully. She went to sit down with Stefania and downed the rest of her gin.
    ‘I’ll get in the cab with you to Victoria, OK, Mum?’ I said, unable to abandon her. Michael looked sharply at me.
Sorry
, I mouthed at him, shrugging. He shook his head briefly to reassure me that it didn’t matter and kissed me quickly as I walked past, Mum swaying on the end of my arm. ‘’Bye, guys,’ I muttered, as we teetered away.
    Dave sat back. ‘Take care, Fran,’ he said. He didn’t look impressed. I ignored him. My
boyfriend
got it, even if Dave didn’t.
    Stefania looked away: she had always disapproved of Mum’s drinking.
    As soon as I’d put Mum on a train to Cheam, I sat on a bench in a deserted Victoria station and stared at the picture of Mum and Dad I kept in my wallet. They were sitting on a beach in Devon, Mum with long hair, a hippie headband and poncho, Dad with a mop-head haircut and tight swimming trunks. They were hugging each other and Mum was doing some sort of ballet thing with her left leg. Both of them had beautiful grins