Now

Poppy was in the same living room where she’d come out to her mum, watching TV with Luna, some movie with Barbie and unicorns. It was nice to remember her mother in that crucial moment of her own young life. The woman could not be thrown by anything. Poppy could have announced she’d murdered someone, and her mother would have simply grabbed a shovel.

But now Poppy was the mum, and it was her job to be that for little Luna. Be the woman of iron. Poppy didn’t feel so tough, though. She missed her mother. It had been two years now. She could have used her perspective on things. She’d have known the shove to give Poppy.

Looking back, though, Poppy had to wonder. Her mum wasn’t infallible. She wasn’t superwoman. Maybe all she’d done was show strength because she knew that it was needed. Maybe she hadn’t always felt that sure of herself. Maybe she was playing the role she had to.

‘Mummy, can I have a magazine today?’ Luna asked.

Poppy immediately tensed up. ‘Err...’

‘There’s a new Frozen one,’ Luna told her. ‘Agnes at school said it’s got a bracelet on it.’

Those bloody magazines. They were branded rags from popular kids' shows and movies that came with plastic toys attached to the front. The magazine was just a front to sell fifty pence worth of plastic crap for six quid. Luna loved them, of course.

‘I don’t know, Lu.’

‘Pleeeease, Mummy? I didn’t even get the last one. And it had lipstick,’ Luna complained.

The wheedling Poppy cracked like an egg. ‘OK.’

‘Can we get it right now?’ Luna asked.

Poppy nodded. She needed the break from Barbie and her money worries anyway.

They walked into the square and Luna dragged her straight to a newsagent, where her head was immediately turned by the amount of choice.

Poppy watched as Luna's attention was drawn to a bright pink magazine with a sparkly charm bracelet on the cover. "Can I get this one instead?" Luna asked eagerly, holding up the glitzy publication.

‘I thought you wanted Frozen?!’

‘This one’s got unicorns.’

Poppy hesitated. The bracelet was made of bad metal and would probably turn Luna's wrist green. But her daughter's eyes were lit up with anticipation.

‘Alright, let's get that one,’ Poppy relented with a weak smile.

Luna beamed and clutched the magazine to her chest as they brought it to the counter. They passed an old lady who smiled at Luna.

The cashier rang them up. "That'll be £9.99," she said. 

Poppy's heart sank. ‘I'm sorry, sweetie, Mummy doesn't have enough money for this magazine,’ she said regretfully. That was it, she’d said it. She’d never felt so broke.

Luna's face fell. ‘But you said I could get it,’ her lip quivered.

‘Can’t you just get the Frozen one? It’s cheaper.’

‘Oh, mum.... Pleeeeeeessseeeeee?!’

Poppy thought it over. It was four quid difference. It shouldn’t feel so crucial. Poppy would face up to her poorness tomorrow. ‘OK.’

Luna fist-pumped while Poppy paid, and they turned to see the old lady behind them now. ‘Tough, isn’t it? I remember that.’

Poppy nodded, embarrassed. They walked around the old lady and went outside, where Luna commenced ripping the plastic off the magazine.

‘I can’t do it,’ she complained.

Poppy took it and had a go. It was really on there.

While she was struggling, the old lady came out of the newsagent. ‘Oh, you’re still here.’

‘Yep,’ Poppy said, wrestling with the magazine.

‘You look familiar. Have I seen you before?’ the lady asked.

‘I just moved back here, so probably not,’ Poppy said. The plastic finally began to give.

‘No, I definitely... Wait a second. You’re not Carole’s daughter, are you?’

Poppy was stunned. ‘Yes, I am. I’m sorry, I don’t—’

‘I run the café, The Sugar Cube? Your mother used to work for me.’

The memories came flying back. ‘Oh my god, Lilian? Of course I remember you.’

‘I know she passed. I’m so sorry,’ Lilian said sadly.

‘Thanks,’ Poppy said.

Luna let out a very big sigh. She was stuck listening to boring grown-up chat, but she’d just have to bear it. It was nice for Poppy to meet someone who knew her mother.

‘I remember you left to be a musician, didn’t you? Your mother was so proud.’

‘Thanks. But that’s over now,’ Poppy told her, still trying to fiddle the magazine completely from its prison.

‘You quit?’ the woman checked.

‘Sort of.’

‘I don’t mean to be rude, but you’re not looking for a job, are you?’ the woman questioned.

‘What?’ Poppy asked, the plastic wrapping giving at last.

The magazine flew out of Poppy’s hands, but Luna caught it. ‘Yes!’ she cried.

‘I’m fully staffed for the breakfast rush, but after my part-timers leave—they’re all students—it’s just me and the cook till three. And I’m getting ready to retire. I thought my daughter might take over, but she’s moving to Australia. She said she needs to live in the heat and her husband is from there originally. She met him in a bar. He was behind the counter. She said it was love at first sight. I think she just liked the accent, but of course, I didn’t say anything. She’s a romantic, and I wouldn’t want to take that away from her...’

Poppy was barely following this story, but she kept listening because yes, she did indeed need a job. This was the answer. If she had to literally follow her in her mother’s footsteps, that wasn’t the worst thing. There were worse paths to take.