I head over to Mum and give her a hug. ‘Bye, Mum. And thanks so much for putting up with us.’
‘Oh, love.’ Mum waves it off. ‘Don’t be silly.’ She glances at Dad. ‘Shall we …’
Dad nods, and clears his throat self-consciously. ‘Before you go, darling, I’d just like to say a few words,’ he begins. Luke descends from the cab of the lorry with a questioning look and I shrug back. I had no idea Dad was planning to make a speech.
‘I thought this day would never happen.’ Dad’s voice rings round the tarmac drive. ‘Our daughter has bought a house!’ He pauses momentously. ‘We’re very, very proud, aren’t we, Jane?’
‘We used to say, who on earth would ever give our little Becky a mortgage?’ Mum chimes in. ‘We were quite worried, love! But now you’ve got a beautiful house in Maida Vale!’
I can’t look at Luke. I’m standing there in silence, chewing my lip, feeling more and more uncomfortable. I mean, I know we will have a house soon. So I haven’t exactly lied. But still.
‘And so, in honour of the occasion …’ Dad clears his throat, suddenly sounding choked up. ‘Becky, we’d like you to have this.’ He hands me a present, wrapped up in tissue paper.
‘Oh my God! You shouldn’t have!’ I pull the tissue off – and it’s the picture of the lady with the flowers. The painting that’s been hanging on the upstairs landing for as long as I can remember.
‘Wh—What?’ I look up in shock. ‘I can’t take this! This belongs here!’
‘Oh, sweetheart.’ Mum suddenly looks misty-eyed. ‘When you were a little girl, you always said you wanted that picture in your room. And I used to say, “You can have it when you’re a grown-up lady with your very own house.”’ She dabs at her eyes. ‘And now here you are, darling. A grown-up lady with your very own house.’
I’ve never felt more guilty in my life.
‘Well … thanks, Mum,’ I stutter. ‘I’m really honoured. It’ll have pride of place in our home.’
‘Maybe in that lovely hallway!’ suggests Mum. ‘It would look beautiful with that fireplace.’
‘Yes, maybe.’ My face is boiling by now.
Oh God. This is unbearable. We must get on to the lawyer and speed everything up. And as soon as we’re in the proper house, we’ll have them over, and we’ll put the picture up and everything will be OK.
‘You will tell us when we can visit,’ says Mum longingly.
‘Well … we’ll come and see you very soon,’ I say, avoiding a direct answer. ‘I’ll call you later, Mum.’
Luke and I clamber up into the cab of the lorry and Alf looks over. He’s so wizened he looks about a hundred and three although apparently he’s only seventy-one. He’s already told us he’s got a bad hip and a dodgy shoulder and a dicky chest, so the other lads are meeting him at the site to help move the boxes. ‘Ready?’ he rasps, his gold tooth glinting.
‘Yes, let’s go.’
‘Young lady want her raisins back?’ He’s got a whole fistful of them, I suddenly notice. Some of them chewed.
‘Minnie!’ I scold. ‘I’m so sorry, let me take those from you …’ I hastily cram the raisins back into Minnie’s snack box, then breathe out as the lorry rumbles out of the drive.
‘So, Mrs Home-owner,’ says Luke sardonically. ‘You must be feeling very proud.’
‘Shut up!’ I clasp my head in my hands. ‘Look … it’ll be OK. I’ll give it a couple of days and then I’ll phone home and make something up about the house needing renovation and say we’re renting somewhere. They’ll be fine. And then as soon as we do get the house we’ll have a big dinner for everyone.’
‘Christmas dinner, maybe.’ Luke nods. ‘Next year.’
‘What?’ I stare at him in horror. ‘Don’t be silly! It’s not going to take that long to get the house. The lawyer said it would all be sorted out quickly!’
‘Which in lawyer-speak means Christmas next year.’
‘No it doesn’t—’
‘Is that your mum?’ interrupts Alf conversationally.
‘What?’
‘Blue Volvo? They’re following us.’ He nods at the wing mirror and I stare into it in disbelief. There they are. Driving along right behind us. What’s Mum doing, following us?
I whip out my phone and speed-dial her number.
‘Mum, what are you doing?’ I say with no preamble.