Page 82 of Snowed In with You

‘So you’re not angry with me?’

‘I’m angry I spent all bloody day making sweet potato shakshuka and miso bananas, obviously. And I’m disappointed, I suppose. He seemed like a decent man, and he could offer you a great deal of security. But if you really don’t love him, then I understand. It’s too important a thing to compromise on.’

‘Thanks, Mum.’ Lucy leaned her head into her mum’s shoulder, wishing their relationship had always been this easy.

‘And in many ways it’s better that you finish with him now, rather than him dumping you when he finds someone better.’

Lucy closed her eyes, wondering how many more years she was expected to shoulder her mother’s passive-aggressive jabs. Years of every kindness being offset by a decent chunk of awful.

‘Why would he find someone better?’ she asked, deciding that today was, in fact, the very last day.

‘Oh,’ said Shirley, physically recoiling. ‘I just meant—’

‘I know what you meant,’ interrupted Lucy. ‘It just wasn’t very nice.’

‘Are you hungry?’ asked Shirley, moving to stand up. ‘Let’s get some dinner.’

‘No, Mum, I’m not hungry,’ insisted Lucy, grabbing her mother’s arm and pulling her back down. ‘I need this to stop.’

‘Need what to stop?’ Shirley clutched her locket nervously.

‘You . . . punishing me for Leo’s death. Reminding me that I’m the lesser twin.’

Shirley gasped, jerking away from her daughter in horror. ‘I don’t—’ she spluttered. ‘I would never—’

‘Please, Mum,’ said Lucy softly. ‘You’ve been doing it for years. Don’t make me list examples.’

Shirley crumpled, her chin dropping to her chest. ‘I just want . . . I just wish . . .’

‘You miss him,’ said Lucy. ‘I understand. I miss him too.’

‘He was such a good boy,’ said Shirley, shaking her head and forcing a weak smile. ‘You were always more like your father, but Leo . . .’

Lucy nodded, understanding her mother’s need to gloss over the shadier bits of her son’s history. Over the years, Leo’s shortcomings and spiky edges had been smoothed off by the idealism of grief, and Lucy had learned to accept it. Leo had been far from perfect, but elevating him to sainthood made his absence easier for her mum to bear. Her dad just avoided talking about him altogether, which was also fair enough.

‘I know,’ said Lucy. ‘But he’s gone, and there’s nothing we can do to bring him back.’

Shirley said nothing, absently picking at the fibres of the duvet cover as a single tear rolled down her cheek.

‘But I’m still here, Mum. Living and breathing, trying to make something of my life so you can be proud of me – not because I’m the girlfriend of someone like Kristoff, but because I’m Lucy.’

Shirley sniffed and sat upright, giving herself a little shake. ‘Have you told your dad you feel like this?’ she asked.

Lucy shook her head. ‘No. I didn’t even know I was going to tell you until just now.’

‘He’s told me off before,’ she said, wiping her face with the back of her hand. ‘For being hard on you, or not showing an interest in your job. I thought maybe you were both ganging up on me.’

‘No,’ said Lucy, her heart filling with love for her father, who never visibly took sides but always had her back.

‘Well, you can’t both be wrong,’ said Shirley with a heavy sigh. ‘I’m sorry, Lucy. It’s been a terrible time, for all of us. And sometimes, when I should be grateful that you’re here, it just makes me more angry that Leo is gone. I know that’s not fair on you.’

‘No,’ said Lucy, taking her mother’s cold, shaking hand in hers. ‘And whilst I understand, it needs to stop. For all our sakes.’

‘Yes,’ whispered Shirley, her voice barely more than a husk.

‘I’ve been seeing a therapist again,’ said Lucy. ‘It’s been helpful, but she’s suggested maybe we could have a family appointment. Me and you and Dad.’

Shirley looked up doubtfully. ‘Really? I’m not sure that—’