plaintively. “I could be sitting in my office working right now. I
should
be sitting working in fact. But I’ve taken time off to help you get settled. I know this is a bloody awful time for you. But you won’t make it any better by digging your heels in and getting all stubborn and refusing to do the simplest thing.” He glared at his mother and felt himself flush.
Their food came. Jeremy’s salad looked strikingly unhealthy with quantities of bright pink dressing and croutons and his mother’s cake looked like a Japanese plastic display model of a piece of cake.
Jeremy persisted. “Exactly how long are you planning to stay here? It’s not even all that nice.”
His mother said deftly, “
You
chose it.”
Jeremy felt himself flush again. “We chose it because it was nearby – obviously. We imagined you would stayhere two or three nights max and then move into a service apartment – as we’d
discussed
– and take your time to work out your next move.” He puffed in exasperation. “I don’t see why it’s such a big deal suddenly.”
His mother laid down her cake fork and clasped her hands. She looked away from Jeremy at some distant vista. “I don’t think I want to live in North London,” she said.
Jeremy was outraged. “Where
do
you want to live?” he demanded and, without waiting for an answer, he exclaimed, “Yesterday you wanted to get back on a plane without even leaving the airport. Today you tell me you don’t want to live near your own son and daughter-in-law. How am I supposed to take
that
? In a few months time you’ll have a grandchild here too, your first grandchild –”
“About the grandchild,” his mother interrupted, suddenly veering off on a tangent as she always did, “there’s something I need to ask about him.”
“Or
her
,” Jeremy said reproachfully.
His mother gave a knowing smile. “Of course you’re right dear, so long as he’s healthy, that’s all that matters.” She paused. “There’s something that’s bothering me though.”
Jeremy was alarmed. “A health issue?”
“No,” his mother said hastily. “No, not a health issue.” She hesitated.
Jeremy asked, “So what is it then? So long as this isn’t just a ploy to change the subject.”
“It isn’t,” his mother answered huffily. “Rest assured. Afterwards we can go straight back to discussing howmany nights you think I ought to stay at the hotel and where you think I ought to live.”
They glared at each other.
“Well?” Jeremy asked.
His mother picked a glace cherry from her synthetic-looking cake and rolled it dubiously around her plate with a fork. “I hope,” she began hesitantly, “I hope that Smita will let me be involved with the baby.”
“You what?” Jeremy asked.
“I hope,” his mother repeated uncertainly, “that Smita will let me have a role in my grandchild’s life, you know what I mean, that she won’t keep me at arm’s length.”
Jeremy was outraged. Furiously, he replied, “I don’t understand you. What has Smita ever done to make you say such a thing?”
“I’m not really
saying
it,” his mother ploughed on. “I’m asking it. You know perfectly well Smita doesn’t have a very high opinion of me. I’ve never been a high flier like she is, more of a plodder. I’m worried she won’t think I’m up to scratch. I need to know. Will I be involved in the baby’s life or won’t I?”
Jeremy didn’t care anymore if he sounded exasperated. “Of course you will be. You’ll be the baby’s grandmother.”
“Ah, but the baby will have two grandmothers, remember,” his mother said. “And it’s perfectly natural for a woman to turn to her own mother first. I realise that. So I’m asking: do you think Smita will allow
me
to do things with the baby too?”
With a sinking heart, Jeremy understood that a wholenew avenue of trouble was opening up ahead of him. “What sort of thing,” he asked cautiously, “did you have in mind?”
His mother
should
be sitting working in fact. But I’ve taken time off to help you get settled. I know this is a bloody awful time for you. But you won’t make it any better by digging your heels in and getting all stubborn and refusing to do the simplest thing.” He glared at his mother and felt himself flush.
Their food came. Jeremy’s salad looked strikingly unhealthy with quantities of bright pink dressing and croutons and his mother’s cake looked like a Japanese plastic display model of a piece of cake.
Jeremy persisted. “Exactly how long are you planning to stay here? It’s not even all that nice.”
His mother said deftly, “
You
chose it.”
Jeremy felt himself flush again. “We chose it because it was nearby – obviously. We imagined you would stayhere two or three nights max and then move into a service apartment – as we’d
discussed
– and take your time to work out your next move.” He puffed in exasperation. “I don’t see why it’s such a big deal suddenly.”
His mother laid down her cake fork and clasped her hands. She looked away from Jeremy at some distant vista. “I don’t think I want to live in North London,” she said.
Jeremy was outraged. “Where
do
you want to live?” he demanded and, without waiting for an answer, he exclaimed, “Yesterday you wanted to get back on a plane without even leaving the airport. Today you tell me you don’t want to live near your own son and daughter-in-law. How am I supposed to take
that
? In a few months time you’ll have a grandchild here too, your first grandchild –”
“About the grandchild,” his mother interrupted, suddenly veering off on a tangent as she always did, “there’s something I need to ask about him.”
“Or
her
,” Jeremy said reproachfully.
His mother gave a knowing smile. “Of course you’re right dear, so long as he’s healthy, that’s all that matters.” She paused. “There’s something that’s bothering me though.”
Jeremy was alarmed. “A health issue?”
“No,” his mother said hastily. “No, not a health issue.” She hesitated.
Jeremy asked, “So what is it then? So long as this isn’t just a ploy to change the subject.”
“It isn’t,” his mother answered huffily. “Rest assured. Afterwards we can go straight back to discussing howmany nights you think I ought to stay at the hotel and where you think I ought to live.”
They glared at each other.
“Well?” Jeremy asked.
His mother picked a glace cherry from her synthetic-looking cake and rolled it dubiously around her plate with a fork. “I hope,” she began hesitantly, “I hope that Smita will let me be involved with the baby.”
“You what?” Jeremy asked.
“I hope,” his mother repeated uncertainly, “that Smita will let me have a role in my grandchild’s life, you know what I mean, that she won’t keep me at arm’s length.”
Jeremy was outraged. Furiously, he replied, “I don’t understand you. What has Smita ever done to make you say such a thing?”
“I’m not really
saying
it,” his mother ploughed on. “I’m asking it. You know perfectly well Smita doesn’t have a very high opinion of me. I’ve never been a high flier like she is, more of a plodder. I’m worried she won’t think I’m up to scratch. I need to know. Will I be involved in the baby’s life or won’t I?”
Jeremy didn’t care anymore if he sounded exasperated. “Of course you will be. You’ll be the baby’s grandmother.”
“Ah, but the baby will have two grandmothers, remember,” his mother said. “And it’s perfectly natural for a woman to turn to her own mother first. I realise that. So I’m asking: do you think Smita will allow
me
to do things with the baby too?”
With a sinking heart, Jeremy understood that a wholenew avenue of trouble was opening up ahead of him. “What sort of thing,” he asked cautiously, “did you have in mind?”
His mother
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