Page 11 of Polo Fever
‘Yes, they are,’ she replies, opening the fridge. ‘Everyone at work has been pissing me off this week so I’ve been trying to dress with acome-near-me-and-diesort of vibe.’
I almost manage a smile at that.
Ever since I can remember, Mum has never taken any crap from anyone. She is the toughest, smartest person I know. Nothing seems to faze or panic her. She has a get-on-with-it attitude and works harder than anyone, which makes her a brilliant TV producer. She’s never been a cuddly, emotional sort of mum, and I have to admit that there have been times that I wished she were. But I love that she says it how it is and she’s not afraid of anyone, whoever they are. Mum has always worked long hours – she knew no one in the TV business when she started out and was never given any help along the way to get a foot in the door, so she’s had to earn every step forward she got. I admire her work ethic and wish I had that kind of drive, although I think it helps if you know what you’re driving towards.
When she’s done making the toast, she marches over and places the plate down on the coffee table, insisting I take a bite while she sits down on the chair opposite.
‘How are you feeling today?’ she asks as I chew, flicking her thick mane of impossibly glossy brown hair behind her shoulder.
I get my hair colour from my dad, whose family were all redheads. I don’t have much to do with my father.He and Mum had what she likes to call a ‘tumultuous’ relationship. They got married quickly after meeting and had my older brother, Jasper. Dad left and they divorced. They were on and off again for a bit, then off for a long time. Then they were back on again briefly which resulted in me.
I remember at one point in my childhood, I got lost in this silly romantic notion that the reason they kept coming back together was because they were meant to be. But I grew up and realised that I wouldn’t want that at all. My father is ambitious and selfish, and although I have no ill-will towards him – Jasper and I have never needed anyone but Mum – he’s not cut out to be a dad or a life partner. He travels as much as possible, is never in one place for long, and as far as I know, Mum has been the only serious relationship he’s ever considered.
He currently works as a reporter in Hong Kong and every now and then will send me messages to check in. It took him over a day to realise I was playing a starring role in the UK media recently, but I did eventually hear from him. He said he hoped I was all right, to keep my chin up and had I seen the latest Crystal Palace football score – the team were doing surprisingly well. I think of all the things he left behind here in England, my dad misses the football more than he misses anything or anyone else.
Under Mum’s watchful gaze, I swallow my mouthful of toast.
‘I’m okay,’ I say in answer to her question. ‘The same, really. I haven’t heard anything from Chris still.’
‘I told you you’re not going to,’ she says. ‘His publicity team will be strongly advising against any contact, andI imagine his wife may have set down some rules, too. Plus, he’s a spineless shithead who doesn’t deserve you in his life.’ Mum glances around my flat and sighs. ‘I don’t know why you’re not staying with me, Ash. I don’t like you being here on your own while this is going on.’
‘I like my own space,’ I reason, not giving the full details which is:I like to be on my own so I can rage and cry and drink and check my phone a million times without any judgement.‘I want to handle this myself.’
‘Yes, but there’s no harm in leaning on people,’ says Mum, who has never leant on anyone her whole life. ‘I don’t think it’s healthy you being cooped up here with nothing to do. You need something to distract yourself from it all.’
I snort. ‘I can hardly apply for jobs right now. People hate me.’
‘You’re not hated; people like to sling mud to feel better about themselves, it’s pathetic,’ Mum says. ‘And I wasn’t necessarily talking about getting a job.’
‘I’m not really in the mood to take up a new hobby, Mum,’ I mutter, attempting another bite of toast.
‘This is not going to define you, Ash. This is one guy. You will move on, I promise.’
‘Will everyone else, though?’ I counter miserably. ‘This story is going to haunt me forever. Stuff online doesn’t disappear. I will always be the girl who Chris Courtney cheated on his wife with.’
‘Sometimes, things that feel like the end can also mark a beginning.’
I narrow my eyes at her. ‘Are you repeating stuff that people say on your show?’
‘Yes, a life coach said that to one of our viewers last week who called in about her business folding.’ Mum tilts her head at me. ‘It’s a positive way of thinking.’
‘Yeah, well, I’m not ready to think positively about any of this.’
She watches me carefully and then straightens, as though she’s had an idea. ‘You know what I think? I think you need a change of scenery. You need to get away from everything, go somewhere where this doesn’t feel like such a big deal, somewhere that doesn’t have reporters jumping out at you and lurking around your door, forcing you inside. The city can feel… claustrophobic. This is the perfect time to get away.’
‘Yeah, because I’m dumped and unemployed,’ I mutter gloomily.
‘You’refree,’ Mum counters, ‘to do whatever the hell you want.’
‘Where am I going to go? I don’t want to go on holiday on my own, that will make me feel lonelier,’ I reason. ‘Although…’
Mum sits up. ‘What? What are you thinking?’
‘Nothing. Jasper messaged me, that’s all, and said I could stay with him for a bit.’
She brightens. ‘Ofcourse! Why didn’t I think of that? It’s perfect. He lives in a beautiful part of the country. There’s no one better to look after you than your brother.’
Jasper is my older brother by quite a gap – ten years in fact – and runs an idyllic country pub in Sussex that he owns with Mum. We speak a lot, but don’t get to see each other as much as we’d like. Managing a successful business takes up most of his time and I was always busy here in the city managing Ren. But since the Chris story exploded, he’sbeen calling often and messaging in the hope of persuading me to come visit. He’s a classic country bumpkin in that he thinks the answer to any problem is… the countryside.
