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‘And how are the concert rehearsals going?’ June asked after a minute.
Sophie forced down her mashed potato, slightly on the lumpy side, with milk that was not fully mixed in.
‘They’re going OK.’ She smiled across the table at her mother, whose eyes narrowed.
‘Just OK?’ She put her fork down to rest against her plate.
‘Uh huh.’ Sophie shovelled in another mouthful of the lumpy mash. If her mouth was full, she couldn’t answer any more questions.
‘You’re hiding something.’ She waved her knife in Sophie’s direction.
‘Not really. It’s going well, honestly.’ She spoke with her mouth full and nodded emphatically, struggling to swallow her latest mouthful. ‘I didn’t get the solo, though.’
‘Never mind, love. I’m sure you did really well.’ David smiled across the table at her.
‘Thanks, Dad.’
‘Well, who did? Who could be better than my daughter?’
‘Lulu van Morris, actually. She often gets the solo in concerts. She’s been performing for such a long time.’
‘Hmm.’ June didn’t look up from her dinner, spiking pea after pea on her fork.
‘She’ll be good for fundraising. She’s basically a celebrity and people will pay to see her.’
That caught her mother’s attention. ‘That’s good, I suppose.’
‘It is.’ Sophie didn’t know why she felt the need to labour her point.
‘It’s a shame you couldn’t do it, though.’ June smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, her thin pink lips stretching across her face instead.
‘Would anyone like something more to drink?’ Sophie stood and reached for the now empty water jug in the middle of the table and didn’t wait for a response.
While she waited for the tap to run cold, she rested her head on the work surface, the small, cool patch that wasn’t covered in dirty dishes. Once the jug was full, she splashed some water on her forehead and neck, drying off the excess with a tea towel.
‘Here we are.’ She placed the jug in the middle of the table.
Her mother held out a glass. ‘Aren’t you going to pour?’
‘I’ll do it,’ David said. He filled the glasses.
‘I saw Jordan shopping in town with his mother last week.’
Sophie fought the urge to put down her fork. ‘Oh?’
‘They were Christmas shopping together. Isn’t that lovely? Pam can’t make it into town and back by herself any more. Such a caring boy.’
June stood to collect the empty plates. Sophie wished she’d put her fork down when she’d had the chance so that she now wouldn’t be gripping onto it so tightly that it was hurting the inside of her clenched fist.
‘Are you finished with that?’ June nodded towards the fork.
‘What? Oh, yes. Sorry.’ Sophie dropped it down with a clatter.
‘Do you ever think you’ll speak to him again? Anything to rekindle?’
‘Absolutely not.’ Sophie pushed her chair back slightly from the table and folded her arms, digging her nails into the top of them.
‘Hmm. Shame.’ June carried out the dirty plates and returned with a huge trifle.
