Miss Potterton's Birthday Tea by Amanda Prowse Page A

soft.
    â€˜Yes, she was.’ Ian looked up at Tina. ‘We were saying earlier how much we both miss her.’
    â€˜Oh.’ Tina smiled as Marley arrived with the large silver teapot on a tray. His expression spoke volumes and it said, I’m so glad my mates can’t see me now…

12
    â€˜Champagne, Cordelia?’ Ian held the bottle over the empty flute.
    â€˜I’m not sure I should – damned pills and whatnot.’ She placed her gnarled hand at her neck.
    â€˜Doctor’s orders! I’d say a couple of sips of this is almost medicinal!’ He poured her a thimbleful. ‘And it’s a shame not to make the most of such a good bottle,’ he added, peering at the label and making a mental note to add this to his wine journal.
    â€˜Marley?’ Ian lifted the bottle.
    â€˜No, thanks.’ Marley placed his hand over the top of the glass. ‘I don’t drink. I’m training. My dad used to say, “If you’re training, you can’t be drinking”.’
    â€˜Oh good, more for us!’ Ian laughed and returned to his seat. ‘Is your dad an athlete too?’ He pictured the suave, tennis-playing Spaniard.
    â€˜No, but he can talk the talk.’
    â€˜Ain’t that the truth.’ Tina dived in for another sandwich. No one was counting, but it was her fifth.
    â€˜I don’t see him that much,’ Marley said. ‘You know, the odd text, or if he’s in town... We don’t really know each other, but it’s cool, cos that’s how’s it’s always been, really, and your normal is your normal.’
    Ian marvelled at Marley’s maturity and his lack of bitterness. The sadness was that the boy’s dad was missing out on the chance to parent this driven, polite young man.
    Tina sat up straight. ‘Oh, Marley’s dad’s very clever. He’s a musician. So he travels a lot.’ She gave a tight smile.
    Marley looked at his mum. ‘He ain’t a musician, Mum. And you don’t have to keep saying that! He owns a guitar, but that doesn’t make him a musician. I mean, you’ve got an oven, but you can’t cook!’
    Tina let out a loud burst of laughter that lightened the tone. ‘S’pose you’re right, love. He was pretty good back in the day. I guess he gave up on his dream and forgot to replace it with something.’
    â€˜That’s why I’ve plans A, B and C. I don’t want to end up just scoring a bit of dope and hanging around with my mates and sitting on the steps every night. Nah, mate, well borin’!’
    Cordelia stared at the young man. ‘I think you might actually be talking another language,’ she shouted and reached for her second Fondant Fancy.
    Tina winked at Ian. It seemed her common, shop-bought confections were going down a treat.
    â€˜So what are plans A, B and C? If you don’t mind me asking.’ Ian thought of Minty, who was usually to be found sitting on a beach, waiting for a life plan or a rich man to fall into her lap. He could hazard a guess as to which was more likely. What a bloody waste.
    Marley leant towards Ian. ‘I want to finish college and get my HNC in Sport and Exercise Sciences. If I do well, that might be enough to get me into uni, and I want to study physiotherapy or medicine, depends on how well I do and stuff.’ He looked away, embarrassed to admit to his ambition, half expecting the same ribbing that he got from Digsy.
    â€˜So, a doctor?’ Ian didn’t look shocked or as if this was beyond the realms of possibility.
    Marley nodded. ‘That would be the dream.’
    â€˜But you didn’t stay for A levels?’
    â€˜Nah, my school was proper crap and they’d kind of written me off and it felt too hard to try and change how they viewed me, so I thought college would be best, a new start.’
    â€˜That makes sense.’ Ian nodded.
    â€˜And then I want to buy a house or