We dont eat this! Back in my village, we feed this to the pigs! She hurled the plate across the table. A moment later, I showed them all the door.
I wiped my hands on the tea towel and eyed the table. Aubergine rolls, homemade meatballs, a fresh salad, and a carafe of cordial. Everything set just right. All in order. But inside, I was rawhis mother was coming round today.
Mum, why are you making such a fuss? My Jonathan stood in the doorway, all skinny limbs and grave face. Twelve years old, but he looked at me like a grown man. Are they planning to move in for a week or what?
Shes his mother, Jon. Pamela Gray. Its her first visit.
So? Davids been living with us for six months already. What difference does it make now?
Jonathan was right, of course, but I couldnt admit it out loud. David had strolled in after my divorcetall, practical, fixed a shelf, changed a leaky tap, spent the night. Then he stayed again. Half a year later, he was still here, and Jonathan looked at him like he was something nasty underfoot.
At seven, the doorbell rang. Pamela Gray stood on the doorstep, a large woman with flaming auburn hair and bright red lipstick. Next to her was Sophie, Davids sisterskinny jeans, phone glued to her hand. No flowers. No wine. Turned up empty-handed.
Come in, let me take your coats. I tried to smile.
Pamela shrugged off her coat at once and strode into the flat, eyeing the walls, poking at the settee, peeping round the corners. I froze. David stood in the hall, studying his own shoes.
Bit poky, isnt it? Pamela called out, peering into the lounge. Dust on the windowsill, too. Not much of a housekeeper, are you?
I swallowed hard. Sophie sniggered, fingers flying over her phone.
Please, lets move to the table.
At the table, Pamela took the place square in the middlelike a monarch. Sat down, eyed the food, lips pursed. I poured out the cordial and set out the plates. David was already reaching for a meatball.
Whats this? Pamela prodded the aubergine rolls with her fork.
Aubergines with cheese and garlic. Please, do try.
We dont eat that sort of thing! Pamela bellowed, shaking the table. Back home we feed things like that to pigs!
She snatched up the plate and flung it across the table. The rolls scattered, one leaving a fat oily mark on the cloth. Sophie jerked away, still filming on her phone. David chewed his meatball.
I stood rigid, carafe in hand. Silence.
David, say something, will you? I whispered.
Mum, stop it, he mumbled, eyes fixed on his plate.
Stop what? Im just being honest, Pamela said, rocking back and giving me a judgemental stare. Youre a handsome woman, of course, but getting a bit on. Years showing now. David could do better, you knowsomeone younger, slimmer. Youre not exactly fresh, are you?
Something inside me snapped. I set down the carafe and took my seat.
David?
Mum, just leave it, he grumbled, reaching for some bread.
Oh, dont get offended. Im only telling the truth. Pamela flicked her hand, dismissing me.
I stood up and went to the kitchen. I needed space before I lost my temper completely. I leaned on the worktop and listened.
Mum, will you stop, Davids voice came, flat and unbothered.
Im telling you as your mother. What do you want with a divorced woman and her child? That boy can barely stand the sight of you. Youve had a warm bed, avoided renttime to move on. Find yourself someone fresh in the spring.
I froze. The kettle was whistling but I didnt hear it.
Its fine, Mum, David muttered. Anyway, shes got a car and its just a five-minute walk to my office. Handy, really. Ill winter here, save some money, and well see. Shes head over heels for me, not going anywhere.
Clever lad. Just dont slip up. Keep your distance, Pamela advised.
Youre ruthless, Dave, Sophie giggled.
I turned off the kettle. Something inside me clicked hard and cold. I walked out of the kitchen, headed for the hall cupboard, pulled out Davids holdall. Walked back and dumped it right in the middle of the plates.
Pack your things!
David looked up, startled.
What?
I said, pack up! The hotels closed!
Joanna, whats the matter with you? We were only talking
Oh, I heard every word you said! Handy, was it? Wintering here, were you? I stepped closer. Well, the gravy train stops tonight. Out. Today.
Are you mad? Pamela shot up, nearly tipping her chair. Were guests!
Guests dont tell the hostess shes a bit on. Guests dont call her food pigswill. And guests dont plan how to use her until spring. I held the front door wide. Get your coats on. Now.
Youre mental! Pamela shrieked, grabbing her coat. Youll end up all alone with an attitude like this!
Sophie hovered by the door, still filming. David chucked his charger, razor and socks into his bag, muttering about how Id regret it and come running back.
Joanna, he called. I turned. Whos going to pay me back for fixing that tap? I got the receipt, you know!
Thats your hotel fee. Keep pushing, and Ill send you a bill for six months rent!
Ill call the police! David fished for his phone.
Go ahead. Explain to them why youve been living here half a year, off the books.
He swore, spat, and left. Pamela, halfway down the stairs, hollered:
Youll never have anyone! Never!
I shut the door and turned the key. Peace. Proper quietthe first time in months.
Jonathan came out of his room a moment later, looked at me in the hallway.
They gone, Mum?
Theyre gone.
For good?
For good.
He came over, hugged my waist, pressed his head into my shoulder. I stroked his coarse hair.
Mum, are there any meatballs left?
Half a pot.
Good. Come on then. Im starvingDavid ate the lions share, as usual.
We wandered into the kitchen. I warmed up the meatballs, Jonathan sat at the table. Suddenly he let out a quiet, relieved laugh.
What are you laughing at?
Just remembered how he tried teaching me about computers the other day. Couldnt even open a browser. Jonathan shook his head. Mum, did you ever really love him?
I paused. Tried to remember how Id felt when David appeared. Was it love? Or just fear of being alone?
I dont know. I think I just wanted someone nearby.
But youre not on your own. Theres two of us.
I looked at my sonhis serious eyes, how much older he seemed these days. He was right.
Youre a clever one.
Got that from you, Jonathan grinned, reaching for another meatball.
I went over and stared out at the dusk. The lamplight barely glimmered on the street beyond. Somewhere out there, David was wandering around with his bag, plotting his next winter stopover. And I didnt care.
Mum, lets go to the cinema tomorrow? Theres a new film about robots.
Lets do it.
We sat together, sharing meatballs and cordial. I was already planning to take down that wobbly shelf tomorrow. That, and throw out his razor. Tomorrow, Id sort the flat and clear every trace of the last few months.
But for tonight, it was just me and Jonathan in my kitchen, in my flat. And inside, something vital was quietly coming back to life.
Jonathan put his plate away, yawned, and went to his room. He turned at the door.
Mum, next time someone wants to stay for ages, will you ask me first? I can always tell whos decent.
Deal.
I stayed sitting on my own for a little while. Surveyed the flatmine, finally, where everything was just so. No more snores that werent my own, no more strange socks, no more borrowed plans. For the first time in half a year, I could breathe.
I thought about Pamelas wordsyoull end up on your own. And I smiled to myself. Being alone isnt so bad. Whats truly awful is having someone who only wants to use you.
Switching off the lights, I looked forward to tomorrow. No more David, no more fake concern, no more manipulation. Just me and my boy. And that felt right.
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