‘Christ,’ Poppy said, unable not to laugh.
Norah didn’t exactly laugh with her, but her mouth did go up at the corner. It was a familiar expression. The quiet mirth of Norah Cauldwell. It was nice to see it.
It was also nice that she wasn’t treating Poppy like something on the bottom of her shoe anymore. Poppy wasn’t counting any chickens, but it seemed that Norah had relaxed around her to an extent. Or at least, she’d accepted Poppy’s continued existence in her world.
For Poppy, that was a big move forward. If it could stop being, at a bare minimum, completely fucking hideous every time they saw each other, that would be a load off for Poppy. She could only see now, as it was easing off, how much it had been wearing her down.
‘Mrs-Miss Jennings?’ Mrs Baur announced, and Poppy gave Norah a nod. Norah nodded back. It was a small gesture, but it meant a lot to Poppy.
She headed in, wanting to know how her daughter was settling in. It was all good news. For a second, she felt like she wasn’t completely fucking up. It was a nice change of pace.
Twenty Years Ago
Poppy rolled the big bin out to the front of the house for collection and went inside. She washed her hands in the kitchen sink while her mother unloaded the dishwasher.
But when she finished drying her hands, she realised her mother wasn’t unloading; she was staring at her, arms crossed. ‘OK, to hell with it. Spill.’
‘What?’
‘I’ve been waiting for days!’ her mother cried.
‘For...’
‘You went to speak to Norah, and you’ve not said a peep since.’
Poppy was trying to be stoic about it. She wanted to enjoy her new little secret. But she should have known her mother wouldn’t let that happen, the nosy mare.
‘Mum, I’m...’
‘Was it tough? Do you want to get it out? You can have a cry, love,’ her mother said gently.
Poppy folded her arms. ‘You’re assuming I got rejected?’
Her mother’s eyes widened in horror. ‘Oh. Um... I mean, no. It’s just because you didn’t say anything. I thought that meant you were feeling sad about it.’
‘It’s private, that’s all.’
Her mother’s interest was piqued. ‘Is it? How private, exactly?’
‘Stop being such a sticky beak, would you?’
Her mother began to smirk. ‘OK, Pop. I’ll say no more about it.’
‘And stop looking like that,’ Poppy cried.
Her mother turned back to the dishwasher. ‘I think I have all the information I need. For now.’
‘You don’t know anything.’
‘OK. Sure.’
‘Cut that out.’
Her mother put her hands in the air. ‘I’m a closed book on the subject. Anyway, what would you like for dinner? That’s if you have time. You might need to be getting out soon?’ she asked neutrally. However, the question was anything but—she was fishing.
‘Yes, I’m going out. I’m gonna grab something,’ Poppy said casually.
‘Out. Yes. With the band, I expect?’ her mother said, getting glasses out and placing them on the side.
‘I’m not saying anything else,’ Poppy told her firmly.
‘No, of course not.’
Poppy headed upstairs to shower and get ready. She could hear her mother laughing to herself.
***
Poppy texted Norah to say she was outside. She wouldn’t have rung the bell at gunpoint.
Norah came to the door. ‘Hi,’ she said with a lovely shy smile.
‘Hi. Your mum about?’ Poppy asked nervously.
‘No, don’t worry. She’s at her book club,’ she said, stepping back to allow Poppy entry.
Poppy tried not to seem relieved as she walked in. ‘Your mum’s in a book club?’
‘She says she is. But I’ve never actually seen her read anything besides the TV guide. Do you want a coffee?’ Norah asked.
