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For the most part, we look nothing alike, save for the crow’s feet at the corners of our eyes and freckles that show when I’ve been out in the sun. Much to her disgust, I’m sure, I take after my father almost entirely. On the rare occasion I go to Thessaloniki to visit his side of the family, I’m reminded that I come from a long line of off-puttingly similar-looking Greek men. Same unruly curls, same not-quite-six-foot build, same dark stubble that takes about four secondsto grow back after shaving.
I also inherited my dad’s proclivity for running away to another country when the going gets tough, but that’s neither here nor there.
‘I’m good. Been in meetings with my client all morning and only just got the chance to sit down with a coffee and do some work on my laptop. How’s work for you?’
She looks tired and I want to tell her to go to bed, but we’ve missed our last few scheduled calls because timings haven’t worked out, so I’m determined to chat for a little while today.
‘Hectic as ever. If I had a quiet day I’d be concerned.’ It felt like my whole childhood my mum was desperately trying to catch up on the work she’d missed while she was on maternity leave with me, all while moving around because of her diplomat career. This wasn’t made any easier when my dad left, and she became a single mum early in her career, with a needy baby who couldn’t sleep without being held.
‘You love it though,’ I add. After she met my stepdad in Dakar, we were a trio for a while, until the twins came along. By the time they started school my parents agreed not to do any more moving around with three kids in tow, and Mum quit her job to start something new. She’s been teaching at their international school in Singapore for years now, which means she’s been around for pretty much every dance recital, every robotics competition, every Model UN debate.
‘Have you spoken to your father recently?’
‘No, he’s, uh,’ I clear my throat, ‘been busy. I think he’s coming to London soon though, so I’ll see him then, at least.’
‘That’ll be nice,’ she says primly, with a smile that hardly hits her cheeks, let alone her eyes. She’s never been good at hiding her dislike for that man. Which is unfortunate, because I am geneticallyfifty percent him. It’s no wonder she spent more time with the twins growing up than she did with me—they’re half my stepdad instead.
‘Did I tell you I’ve started looking around for other jobs? Just to see what’s out there once this contract’s over.’ I settle my phone against my open laptop so I don’t have to hold it.
‘You could come back to Singapore,’ she suggests. As much as I like being around my family, I’ve never felt like Singapore was home. I don’t quite feel like I could slot back into their perfect foursome; the fifth wheel that makes everything a little off-balance.
‘There’s one in San Francisco I’m interested in.’
Her eyes widen. ‘San Francisco?’
‘It’s where the opportunities are if I want another marketing role in tech.’ It’s also where my dad has lived since he started his business over two decades ago, which she’s fully aware of. ‘But I’m not sure yet if I’m gonna apply. I think the start date’s sometime this autumn.’
I gulp my now-lukewarm drink, regretting that I got distracted people-watching earlier.
She sips from her own mug and I don’t need to ask to know it’s green tea. ‘Is that an issue?’
‘You know how I left Paris in a hurry? I’ve decided to do this thing,’ I scratch my jaw as I search for the words, ‘where I make sure I’ve “completed” my time here, if that makes sense? I want to feel like I’ve lived the city well.’
‘I should’ve done something like that too when I was moving around at your age for work.’
‘I’ve even made a bucket list,’ I add with a grin, knowing how much she also loves a list. ‘It’s the most random combination of activities ever.’
She smiles and this one reaches her eyes. ‘It sounds fun. It’ll be a good way to make you stay put for a little while longer.’ She tiltsher head and adds, ‘You know, I was always surprised you stayed in Australia for as long as you did.’
It was the closest I’d lived to that part of my family for a long time, though I still didn’t get to see them as much as I might’ve liked. I didn’t want to disrupt them when they were always so busy.
‘If it wasn’t for uni, I probably wouldn’t have. Wait, actually,’ I hold up my drink to the camera so she can see, ‘I’ve finally found a place that does decent coffee. It reminds me of the stuff I used to get in that little indie shop near my apartment in Sydney. Remember when you came to visit that one time? I’ve practically been living here since I found it.’
‘Can you flip the camera around? I want to see where you are.’ I oblige, slowly panning the phone around the coffee shop, where plants trail from shelves and mismatched chairs cluster around wooden tables. She points at something she can see on her screen and I have no idea what she’s looking at until she says, ‘She’s very pretty.’
‘She is,’ I reply, grateful I’m wearing headphones. I turn the camera back to my face and away from Ava, who’s muttering to herself as she cleans a table nearby. She either hates my guts or is entirely apathetic and doesn’t even remember my name, and I’m not sure which is worse.
But it’s not like this is the first time I’ve noticed how pretty she is; the flush at the apples of her cheeks, dark hair tied back in a ponytail, soft bangs framing cautious blue eyes. Long legs, frustrating curves. Dangerous, for someone like me. As if she can feel my gaze, she glances my way, and I quickly avert my eyes.
Mum raises her eyebrows pointedly. ‘It’s been months since Léa. It’s such a shame it didn’t work out between you, but maybe it’s time to try again?’
My mum doesn’t know the truth about what happened inParis. I haven’t told her anything more than what she needs to know. Partly because even after everything, I don’t want her to think badly of Léa. But partly because I don’t want her to realise that I am exactly as easy to leave now as I was as a kid.
‘I’m just enjoying my time here. I’m not looking for anything like that. Not until I’m settled. So maybe when I’m, like, forty.’
Her eyes bulge and she brings the phone even closer to her face. ‘Forty? I’ll practically bedeadby then.’ That math does not add up, but she’s a diplomat-turned-teacher, not a statistician, so I’ll cut her some slack. ‘I want grandchildren before I’m senile, and if I have to wait until the twins are your age then I might as well just give up.’ My younger brother and sister are twelve years younger than me and I don’t have the heart to tell her she’ll probably have better luck waiting for them to settle down than me. ‘Don’t you miss the touch of a woman?’
‘Mum,’ I say through a groan. I’ve been casually dating here and there, so if there’s one thing I’m not missing, it’s the touch of a woman, but we are alsoabsolutelynot the kind of family to discuss that type of thing.
