suggest a coffee or lunch without you jumping to ridiculous conclusions?’ She rolled her eyes at Marla whose desk was opposite, and Marla grinned back, clearly enjoying the show.
‘All right, calm down, I was only wondering,’Tracey replied. ‘Thank Christ for that, though. No offence, but I’m not ready to be a grandma just yet, thank you very much.’
‘Don’t worry, there’s no chance of it happening any time soon,’ Anna said dryly. However disloyal this made her, she actually felt faintly nauseous at the thought of carrying Pete’s baby. A mini-Pete, who would draw up a spreadsheet and score her on her inept mothering attempts, no doubt. ‘So anyway. Meeting up. Why don’t we go to the Living Room for lunch?’
‘Blimey, that’s a bit posh, isn’t it?’ her mum said. ‘Are you sure there’s nothing going on? You’re not trying to sweeten me up before confessing some terrible crime you’ve committed, are you?’
‘All right, we’ll go to Maccy D’s if you’d rather,’ Anna snapped. ‘Or we can bring our own flipping packed lunches! It was only an idea.’ She was on the verge of lapsing into teenage petulance – I won’t bother next time! – but managed to bite it back. This was supposed to be a charm offensive after all; she didn’t want to blow it before they’d even been given the menus.
‘Keep your hair on! I can do posh. I was only saying.’
‘Brilliant,’ Anna said through gritted teeth. ‘So I’ll book a table for one-ish and text you to confirm, okay? Look forward to seeing you then.’
‘Me too. I think.’
Anna arrived in Leeds half an hour early on Saturday so popped into the big Waterstones on Albion Street to while away some time. She walked straight past all the tables of new fiction and headed for the travel section. Maybe it wasn’t just about asking the right questions, she thought, searching the shelves for what she needed. Maybe it was about coming prepared with a few props as well.
The next twenty minutes vanished as she lost herself leafing through travel guides and maps. She gazed at the colour photos, drinking in the sights: the splendour of Rome, the glorious scarlet poppy fields of Tuscany, beautiful unique Venice, the wild coastline and magnificent beaches . . . Oh, she loved it all. The best thing was, this was her country too now. She felt such a strong pull to the place, it almost came as a surprise to look up from the pages and find herself still in Yorkshire. Glancing at her watch she realized she would be late if she didn’t hurry, so she paid quickly for her purchases and left.
The Living Room was a smart, classy restaurant. Anna had been once before during a friend’s hen weekend, and it wasn’t the sort of place her mum would be able to storm out of mid-hissy-fit. She hoped.
Tracey was already there when Anna arrived, sipping a cappuccino at a corner table while filling in a Sudoku game on her phone. ‘Hi, love,’ she said, rising to kiss Anna’s cheek.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ Anna said, shaking off her damp coat and hanging it on the back of her chair. ‘I got distracted buying books. Planning a holiday.’
‘You and Pete? Where are you thinking of going?’
‘Italy,’ Anna replied. There. She’d said it already, before she’d even sat down. Her heart raced as she checked her mum’s face and body language for any kind of reaction. ‘Have you ever been?’
‘Me? Yeah. Years back, before you were born. Girls’ holiday, me and your Aunty Marie. Two weeks in Rimini, it was bloody magic.’ She looked wistful, and Anna’s fingers felt clammy as she pulled her new guidebooks from the bag.
‘Rimini. Where’s that then?’ she asked, oh-so-casual, swallowing back the other, more obvious questions bubbling up inside. Caution – that was what this was all about. Stealth. No sudden moves. No blurting out ‘Where did you meet my dad then?’, much as she was dying to. To her surprise, the approach actually seemed to be
‘All right, calm down, I was only wondering,’Tracey replied. ‘Thank Christ for that, though. No offence, but I’m not ready to be a grandma just yet, thank you very much.’
‘Don’t worry, there’s no chance of it happening any time soon,’ Anna said dryly. However disloyal this made her, she actually felt faintly nauseous at the thought of carrying Pete’s baby. A mini-Pete, who would draw up a spreadsheet and score her on her inept mothering attempts, no doubt. ‘So anyway. Meeting up. Why don’t we go to the Living Room for lunch?’
‘Blimey, that’s a bit posh, isn’t it?’ her mum said. ‘Are you sure there’s nothing going on? You’re not trying to sweeten me up before confessing some terrible crime you’ve committed, are you?’
‘All right, we’ll go to Maccy D’s if you’d rather,’ Anna snapped. ‘Or we can bring our own flipping packed lunches! It was only an idea.’ She was on the verge of lapsing into teenage petulance – I won’t bother next time! – but managed to bite it back. This was supposed to be a charm offensive after all; she didn’t want to blow it before they’d even been given the menus.
‘Keep your hair on! I can do posh. I was only saying.’
‘Brilliant,’ Anna said through gritted teeth. ‘So I’ll book a table for one-ish and text you to confirm, okay? Look forward to seeing you then.’
‘Me too. I think.’
Anna arrived in Leeds half an hour early on Saturday so popped into the big Waterstones on Albion Street to while away some time. She walked straight past all the tables of new fiction and headed for the travel section. Maybe it wasn’t just about asking the right questions, she thought, searching the shelves for what she needed. Maybe it was about coming prepared with a few props as well.
The next twenty minutes vanished as she lost herself leafing through travel guides and maps. She gazed at the colour photos, drinking in the sights: the splendour of Rome, the glorious scarlet poppy fields of Tuscany, beautiful unique Venice, the wild coastline and magnificent beaches . . . Oh, she loved it all. The best thing was, this was her country too now. She felt such a strong pull to the place, it almost came as a surprise to look up from the pages and find herself still in Yorkshire. Glancing at her watch she realized she would be late if she didn’t hurry, so she paid quickly for her purchases and left.
The Living Room was a smart, classy restaurant. Anna had been once before during a friend’s hen weekend, and it wasn’t the sort of place her mum would be able to storm out of mid-hissy-fit. She hoped.
Tracey was already there when Anna arrived, sipping a cappuccino at a corner table while filling in a Sudoku game on her phone. ‘Hi, love,’ she said, rising to kiss Anna’s cheek.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ Anna said, shaking off her damp coat and hanging it on the back of her chair. ‘I got distracted buying books. Planning a holiday.’
‘You and Pete? Where are you thinking of going?’
‘Italy,’ Anna replied. There. She’d said it already, before she’d even sat down. Her heart raced as she checked her mum’s face and body language for any kind of reaction. ‘Have you ever been?’
‘Me? Yeah. Years back, before you were born. Girls’ holiday, me and your Aunty Marie. Two weeks in Rimini, it was bloody magic.’ She looked wistful, and Anna’s fingers felt clammy as she pulled her new guidebooks from the bag.
‘Rimini. Where’s that then?’ she asked, oh-so-casual, swallowing back the other, more obvious questions bubbling up inside. Caution – that was what this was all about. Stealth. No sudden moves. No blurting out ‘Where did you meet my dad then?’, much as she was dying to. To her surprise, the approach actually seemed to be
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