Poppy nodded.

‘Oh. Oh.’

There it was. But what would she think about it?

Her mother’s face cracked into a big grin. ‘Oh, sweetheart!’ she said, laughing. ‘Oh god. You must be dying!’

‘Mum!’ Poppy exclaimed, incensed.

‘I’d have never sent her up if I’d known, kiddo. I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s not your fault,’ Poppy said miserably.

But it was sort of nice to commiserate with her mum. She didn’t seem very surprised by the object of her love song either, and that was a comfort, too.

‘Did you always know?’ she asked.

‘Know what, exactly?’ her mother asked, and it was clear that she was trying not to insert her size fives into her mouth, which she was apt to do on occasion.

‘I’m still figuring it out,’ Poppy said honestly.

‘It had crossed my mind,’ her mother admitted. ‘You and Norah... I thought you were just being kind at first. But lately, I did start to wonder.’

‘And you don’t, you don’t mind or anything?’ Poppy checked.

‘God, no!’ her mother exclaimed, almost angry at the idea she could be. ‘Actually, if you did turn out to be a lesbian, it would be a load off my mind,’ she admitted. ‘Boys are... I mean, some are fine. I even married one. But as a group? Rather worrisome.’

‘Mum, I really don’t know if that’s the word I want to use,’ Poppy told her.

‘No, OK, sorry, got a bit excited there. I’ll shut up now.’ She paused. ‘But you never wrote a love song about any boys. That much I do know.’

Poppy groaned. ‘Oh god. She heard it. She bloody heard it!’ Poppy sat down on the sofa and fell sideways, her face pushing into a cushion. 

‘So, I take it you hadn’t talked about it, you and Norah?’ her mother said.

Poppy turned her face out to look at her mother. ‘No.’

‘So you don’t know if she...’

‘No.’

‘Were you going to tell her?’

‘I’m not sure. I was waiting, I think. Probably,’ Poppy said, uncertain. She hadn’t worked all this out yet.

‘Waiting for what?’ her mother asked.

‘I don’t know. Maybe the right time?’

Her mother laughed.

‘What’s the joke?’ Poppy asked, irritated.

‘There is no right time. That will never happen.’

‘Yes, but her dad just died,’ Poppy said emotionally. ‘So there might not be a right time, but there’s a wrong time and a wrong way. And that’s how it’s happened. In the worst possible way.’

‘But it has happened,’ her mother shrugged, picking up a pair of jeans. ‘Toothpaste won’t go back in the tube, sweetheart.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, you should talk to her.’

‘No, I don’t think so.’

Her mother was stunned. ‘What? You think you’re just going to carry on and pretend it didn’t happen?’

Poppy thought it over. ‘She knows, but she doesn’t know I know. If she doesn’t bring it up, I can just... not.’

Her mother folded up the jeans, sighing. ‘Good luck with that.’

‘Mum! I need your support!’

‘And you’re getting it.’

‘No, I’m not! You’re supposed to tell me whatever I do is fine.’

Her mother tutted and smiled. ‘Oh, Pop. That’s a total misunderstanding of my job,’ her mother told her.

‘Then what is your job?’ Poppy demanded.

‘To lovingly prepare you for reality. And the reality is that she’s your friend, and you’ve been as thick as thieves for months. And now there’s this big thing in the middle of it. It’s not just going to go away, as much as you might want it to.’

Poppy was furious at her mother. She’d only wanted a comforting lie, just one beautiful little fib. But it wasn’t her way.

‘Mum... What if she hates me now?’ Poppy asked her mother.

‘She won’t.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I don’t. But I believe it. Norah’s a good kid. She’s not going to turn her back on you over this.’

Poppy sat up on the sofa, her spine functioning again. ‘But she won’t like me like that, will she?’

Her mother stopped folding and sat down next to her. She slid an arm around her shoulder. Her mother wasn’t a big hugger, but when Poppy needed it, she always seemed to know. ‘I don’t know. But for her own sake, I hope she does. She’d be lucky to have you.’

‘Thanks, Mum,’ Poppy said, her bottom lip wobbling.