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Authors: Jenny Oliver
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pay off an investor.’
‘Fair enough,’ she said with a laugh. ‘You don’t have to persuade me. I’m nothing to do with it.’
‘Yes but I want you to understand that you’re wrong.’
She almost spat out her wine. ‘That’s ridiculous,’ she said, patting the wine off her chin. ‘You can’t persuade me to think that you’re right if I don’t think you are. And why do you care? I know nothing about business.’
‘Exactly,’ he said, raising a hand to emphasise his point. ‘Hence. You’re wrong.’
She did another little laugh and a frustrating shrug of her shoulder. ‘If you want.’
‘Oh my god, you’re so annoying,’ he said.
She laughed, properly this time, a real proper laugh, at him. Then she stood up. ‘Shall we go swimming?’ she said and he had to lean forward to check that he’d heard correctly.
Chapter Thirteen
The good days with her mum were like the circus coming to town. They were never normal days like other people might have where they went to Tesco or took the dog for a walk. They were always these crazy, fun-packed days. Where she’d wake and find her mum already up and making stacks of cherry pancakes and maple syrup. She’d have borrowed Enid’s canoe and packed it with supplies of popping candy and Dandelion & Burdock. They’d paddle up the river to some little cove and go swimming in just their underwear and her mum would find frogs and toads under stones and hold them in her hands until they jumped away. She’d pull a kite out from nowhere and they’d run to the top of the hill to fly it and then play tennis and hire bikes and eat nothing but fresh raspberries from the bushes all day. Whatever she saw, her mum would do. If there was a pedalo on a lake, they’d pedal. If there were horse-riding lessons, they’d ride. If there was a car showroom with an old Jaguar to test drive, they’d be off on the open road.
And Jane had to be constantly prepared for these days because, otherwise, if she wasn’t, if they took her by surprise, she might miss a precious second of them. It was like every day she was wound up, ready, waiting.
Of course a life where someone made sure she had three meals a day, clean clothes and regular dentist appointments would probably have been better - be the more normal life that she had craved so often at the time. But those good days with her mum…
Jane realised then that everything that had followed - the dementia, the anger, the ageing and responsibility - had made her almost forgot this stuff. Those heady days that were like being handed rubies. Infinitely precious and rare enough to leave her always craving more.
‘Swimming?’ Will said. ‘As in, in the lake swimming?’
‘Why not?’ Jane asked. ‘It’s hot still, we’ll dry out.’
‘You’re mad.’
She laughed. ‘No I’m not,’ she said, holding tightly onto that gossamer-thin thread of impetuousness that her mother had inspired. Knowing her instinct was to shake her head and say that he was right, to lie back down and stare up at the stars instead. But she was going for it. She was clinging onto the thread her mother had left her because tonight was about everything she never normally did as just Jane. ‘It’s just sometimes it’s more fun than you can imagine – doing something unexpected.’
Will scratched his neck and looked dubiously out at the lake, then back at Jane who was slipping her sandals on so she could walk over the pebbly path. ‘You’re seriously going to swim in the lake?’
She nodded.
‘Oh for god’s sake,’ he said with a resigned sigh. ‘I should have gone to dinner with Heidi.’ Then he stood up, poured himself another slug of wine which he downed in one and said, ‘Fine. OK. Come on then. You win.’
And Jane felt her mouth stretch wide into a smile as she walked over to the edge of the lake, in view of all the restaurant diners, and took off sandals, her jeans, her white top and waded out into the freezing water of the lake
‘Fair enough,’ she said with a laugh. ‘You don’t have to persuade me. I’m nothing to do with it.’
‘Yes but I want you to understand that you’re wrong.’
She almost spat out her wine. ‘That’s ridiculous,’ she said, patting the wine off her chin. ‘You can’t persuade me to think that you’re right if I don’t think you are. And why do you care? I know nothing about business.’
‘Exactly,’ he said, raising a hand to emphasise his point. ‘Hence. You’re wrong.’
She did another little laugh and a frustrating shrug of her shoulder. ‘If you want.’
‘Oh my god, you’re so annoying,’ he said.
She laughed, properly this time, a real proper laugh, at him. Then she stood up. ‘Shall we go swimming?’ she said and he had to lean forward to check that he’d heard correctly.
Chapter Thirteen
The good days with her mum were like the circus coming to town. They were never normal days like other people might have where they went to Tesco or took the dog for a walk. They were always these crazy, fun-packed days. Where she’d wake and find her mum already up and making stacks of cherry pancakes and maple syrup. She’d have borrowed Enid’s canoe and packed it with supplies of popping candy and Dandelion & Burdock. They’d paddle up the river to some little cove and go swimming in just their underwear and her mum would find frogs and toads under stones and hold them in her hands until they jumped away. She’d pull a kite out from nowhere and they’d run to the top of the hill to fly it and then play tennis and hire bikes and eat nothing but fresh raspberries from the bushes all day. Whatever she saw, her mum would do. If there was a pedalo on a lake, they’d pedal. If there were horse-riding lessons, they’d ride. If there was a car showroom with an old Jaguar to test drive, they’d be off on the open road.
And Jane had to be constantly prepared for these days because, otherwise, if she wasn’t, if they took her by surprise, she might miss a precious second of them. It was like every day she was wound up, ready, waiting.
Of course a life where someone made sure she had three meals a day, clean clothes and regular dentist appointments would probably have been better - be the more normal life that she had craved so often at the time. But those good days with her mum…
Jane realised then that everything that had followed - the dementia, the anger, the ageing and responsibility - had made her almost forgot this stuff. Those heady days that were like being handed rubies. Infinitely precious and rare enough to leave her always craving more.
‘Swimming?’ Will said. ‘As in, in the lake swimming?’
‘Why not?’ Jane asked. ‘It’s hot still, we’ll dry out.’
‘You’re mad.’
She laughed. ‘No I’m not,’ she said, holding tightly onto that gossamer-thin thread of impetuousness that her mother had inspired. Knowing her instinct was to shake her head and say that he was right, to lie back down and stare up at the stars instead. But she was going for it. She was clinging onto the thread her mother had left her because tonight was about everything she never normally did as just Jane. ‘It’s just sometimes it’s more fun than you can imagine – doing something unexpected.’
Will scratched his neck and looked dubiously out at the lake, then back at Jane who was slipping her sandals on so she could walk over the pebbly path. ‘You’re seriously going to swim in the lake?’
She nodded.
‘Oh for god’s sake,’ he said with a resigned sigh. ‘I should have gone to dinner with Heidi.’ Then he stood up, poured himself another slug of wine which he downed in one and said, ‘Fine. OK. Come on then. You win.’
And Jane felt her mouth stretch wide into a smile as she walked over to the edge of the lake, in view of all the restaurant diners, and took off sandals, her jeans, her white top and waded out into the freezing water of the lake
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