The Happy Family by Jackie Kabler (electric book reader txt) 📕

Mum has appeared in the hall where I’m transferring my purse and keys from my big work handbag to the small black patent-leather clutch I use for evenings.

‘Thanks,’ I say, just as there’s the beep of a car horn from outside.

‘Oh! He’s early,’ Mum says. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll nip out and keep him talking while you get those two scamps sorted.’

‘Great, thanks. We’ll just be a minute,’ I say, and she gives me a thumbs-up sign and heads for the front door, just as Finley and Eloise come thundering down the stairs.

‘Erm … shoes, Finley?’ I say, pointing at his feet, on which he’s wearing his favourite dinosaur socks and nothing else.

‘Can’t find them,’ he says.

I roll my eyes.

‘Finley, they’re sitting on the floor next to your wardrobe. Eloise, can you go up with him, quickly, and get them on him please? The taxi’s outside … I’ll go and tell the driver you’re on your way. Make sure the front door is closed behind you when you come out, OK?’

Eloise sighs dramatically and grabs Finley’s hand.

‘Such a noob,’ she says.

Like Mum with the Nerf, I have no idea what a ‘noob’ is, but trusting that my daughter is mature enough not to call her seven-year-old brother something really obscene, I decide to let it go. As they run back upstairs, I grab my bag and head out into the driveway. Mum’s at the gate, standing at the open window of the cab that’s parked there and chatting animatedly to the driver.

She turns as I approach.

‘They’re just coming, sorry. Missing shoes issue. Shall we get in?’

‘Sure,’ she says. I let her climb in first, and as I wait I notice that Brenda and Barbara are standing in Brenda’s driveway next door, chatting to a man. I’m about to call out a hello when I pause.

Oh, bloody hell.

I move a few steps away from the taxi, eyes fixed on the tall figure. He’s wearing a blue hoodie, denim jeans, trainers. It’s the sort of casual gear you see on hundreds of men every day, and he has his back to me, but there’s something about him …

This is getting ridiculous. That’s Mike, isn’t it? What’s going on? Why am I seeing him everywhere?

I’m standing there, staring, when suddenly Brenda notices me. She nudges Barbara and the two of them wave, smiling. The man doesn’t turn round and I hesitate for a moment, then wave back.

‘Just going out for pizza,’ I shout.

‘Lovely! Oh, can you just hang on one second?’ Barbara shouts back, and then she turns to Brenda, says something, and scuttles off down the driveway, turning left at the gate and jogging along the pavement towards me.

‘Hi,’ she gasps.

‘Hi. Erm, Barbara, who’s that guy? The one you’re chatting to? It’s just … well, he looks familiar?’

She turns and looks back to where I’m pointing.

‘Him? He’s just a gardener. Brenda’s thinking of having some raised beds out back,’ she says, then turns back to look at me, pushing a strand of her long red hair off her forehead. ‘Look, Beth, I can’t find my spare glasses anywhere and I’m just wondering if I left them at yours on Friday? Have you seen them?’

I shake my head. I’m still taking in what she’s just said about the man being a gardener.

OK. Stop it now, Beth. Mike is not still hanging around telling people stuff about you. It’s ridiculous to think that. You’re ridiculous …

‘No, sorry,’ I say. ‘Haven’t seen them.’

She sighs, then bends down to peer into the taxi. Her eyes widen and for a moment she just stares into the car’s interior. Then she straightens up and turns to me.

‘Oh gosh, is that your mum? Hello!’

She waggles her fingers, and Mum leans across and waves back.

‘Hello. I’m Alice,’ she says. ‘Pleased to meet you.’

‘Barbara, from next door,’ says Barbara. ‘Nice to meet you too.’

I smile at the pair of them – how lovely it is to see my friends meeting my mum! – then turn to frown at the front door, from which no children have yet emerged.

How long does it take to put on a pair of shoes?

‘Beth, is it OK if I nip in and have a quick look around? For the glasses? Honestly, I haven’t seen them since Friday and I’ve searched my place from top to bottom. I’m just wondering if they slipped down the side of your sofa. Do you mind?’

I turn back to Barbara.

‘No, of course not, go on. And can you shout upstairs and tell my kids we’re leaving in twenty seconds, with or without them?’

‘Of course. Thanks, Beth.’

‘Oh and Barbara – you and Brenda must come round for drinks to meet Mum properly. How does Friday sound?’

She hesitates for a moment, then nods.

‘I think I’m free, yes. I’ll check with Bren but she didn’t mention any plans for the weekend. Thanks, Beth. That would be lovely.’

‘Brilliant. OK, see you then. Hope you find your specs.’

‘Thanks. I’m such a twit sometimes. Right, I’ll send the children out. Have a great night!’ she says, and I thank her and clamber into the taxi.

‘Sorry,’ I say to the driver. ‘The kids are on their way.’

‘No worries, love,’ he says, smiling at me in the rear-view mirror.

‘Your friend seems nice,’ Mum says. ‘When are they coming round? Friday?’

‘Yes. Is that OK? You’re definitely staying then?’ I say.

‘I’d love to. If that’s OK with you, of course?’

‘It’s very OK,’ I reply. ‘You can stay as long as you like. Move in, if you want.’

I say the words lightly, as if in jest, but her eyes widen and she smiles broadly.

‘Do you mean that? I mean, I’ll have to go back to my job eventually, come the autumn. But for the next few months, yes. Yes, I’d love to move in. Are you sure?’

My heart leaps.

‘Absolutely sure. That would be … that would be wonderful, Mum! More than wonderful.’

I grab her hand and squeeze it, and she squeezes back.

‘That’s settled then,’ she said. ‘And right