Page 66 of When We Are Old

“So you don’t want me to tell you that Sarah Bingham—you know her, she’s Charlie’s mum, dark hair, arse is a bit—”

“I know who she is,” I barked.

“So you don’t want to know that Sarah saw her getting her nails done yesterday afternoon?”

“It’s not my business, Ruth. It really isn’t. I just want the boys to be happy.”

“Matty, they are happy. When you are. When you aren’t punishing yourself for being a miserable git.”

I couldn’t find the will to answer.

Another battle of the phone took over and I considered hanging up. Mam came back on the line. “Right. So we will see you in about fifteen. I’m ordering fish and chips. The girls have got wine, but Ryan says he’s running low on beer so can you grab some on the way?”

“Mam. The boys are dressed for bed.”

“So? Put them in the car, they can sleep here.”

“I’m trying to prove to them I can offer a stable home life.”

“And you are, by sticking to all the things you normally do. Friday night fish and chips is one of those things, so haul your arse over here.”

I sighed and sat on the kitchen chair, leaning my head onto my free hand. This week had felt like a month of Sundays.

A month of Sundays to the soundtrack of my phone ringing, unanswered.

Ronnie stopped calling yesterday evening.

I’d become the world’s biggest arsehole. But what could I say to her? That Julie had me by the short and curlies? That the pressure of failure turned me into a vortex of grey doom? That I knew being happy in her Surbiton semi wasn’t a happy ever after I could aim for? Not with Julie; not with the kids needing me.

“Matthew?” Mam called me back to the present. “You can’t hide, not from us.”

“I’m not hiding from you, Mam. I’m trying to do the right thing.”

“My son, for such a bright chap, you are really blind. You will never please everyone, especially if you aren’t making yourself happy.”

“Is that what you told Dad when he worked himself into an early grave?”

“No. And the difference was, your father made his choices and he lived with them. You’ll never be satisfied with life until you stop living everyone else expectations.”

“I don’t need a therapy session, Mam.”

“No? Well maybe you just need some fish and chips. Come on, Matthew, you’ve been by yourself for days.”

“Not by myself. I’ve had the boys, it’s been good.”

“Come over and we can talk about it more, maybe it’s time to think about the future a bit clearer.”

My chest tightened. I knew what she wanted to talk about… Was Julie a good mother? Should I get the boys to live with me… I didn’t know. How could I judge when I was the one who’d made her like that?

“I’ll come if you don’t harass me.” I grinned.

“Me? How rude.” She rose her voice and shouted, “He’s coming. Ryan, save him a beer.”

“I’ll grab some.”

She paused, hesitation on the line. “You’re a good guy, Matthew.”

“Of course I am.” I shook off my melancholy, pushing it to the back of my mind, trying to be the man who would make his mother smile. “I’m your son.”