Page 28 of How We Began

What I understand even less is how she thinks that I want to follow in her footsteps when it would clearly be a case of history repeating itself.

And as a student of history (sort of) I am only too aware that history really does repeat itself. I just don’t want my mother’s history to repeat itself with me.

27th October

It is 5 o’clock, and I’m still in a state of shock. Mum pulled a complete fast one on me.

I can’t quite believe it.

Lunch was over, fast and sober. My alarm bells should have been going off by that fact alone. Another alarm bell trigger should have been Mum’s outfit. Instead of her normal twinset and court shoes, she was wearing flats, some trousers that were borderline jean material, and a shirt thing. She looked like she was about to go and bunfight it out at Primark. Even her putdowns were low key.

“Dharrling, I do think perhaps you should join a class or something.”

“What sort of class, Mum?”

“Oh, Yoga, Pilates, you know.”

This should have warned me. Any other time, Mum would have just looked me up and down and said, “Delilah, you really are getting frightfully plump.”

But still, I didn’t think it was weird when after lunch she drained her orange juice (really, orange juice?) and said, “Come on, Delilah, let’s go and look at some of their departments.”

Meredith, who’d been expecting Mum to be a complete head case after Tristan and I had given her advanced warning of what to expect, shot me a confused look as we trailed after Mum’s high-speed power walk.

Mum’s marathon sprint ended at the entrance to the Harvey Nics formal wear department. I just stood there, frankly puzzled.

“Come on, Darling, we’re just in time for your appointment.”

“What?”

“Don’t say ‘What?’ say ‘Pardon,’” she tutted. “We need a dress for John’s parents 35th Wedding anniversary.”

My stomach flipped—were people still expecting me to go to their anniversary party?

No way.

I barely even knew them. Although being introduced to them on date number two, or was it three…? Either way… being introduced to them as John’s girlfriend and future life partner so early into dating him screamed red flags.

If I had to go, I wondered if I could take a date or would that be in bad taste?

Bad taste. Even I knew that much.

“Mum, I don’t think I can go, John and I aren’t together. It would be weird?” And boring as hell… And I have a new boyfriend who’s a giant secret. “And even if we hadn’t broken up… I’m at uni, I can’t just stop all my studies at the drop of a hat. I’m taking it seriously.”

I scowled at Meredith, who snorted and then pretended to have a coughing fit.

My argument just slid off Mum like water on oily duck feathers.

“Oh, Delilah, will you stop all this silliness? You know that you and John are going to get back together, he knows it, we all know it, so we may as well get on with it. You two are perfect for each other and soon all this silliness with university will be over, and you’ll be back at work with Daddy where you belong. Then you and John can get on with your life plans.”

So many things were wrong with that sentence I had nothing in me but to stand and stare. I wanted to shout at her about Ben, that next to me in my tiny little halls of residence dorm was a Mr Perfect I hadn’t even considered existing, but my self-doubt reared its ugly head. I hesitated and she pounced, grabbing me by the hand.

“See, Darling, I knew you’d understand. It’s all for the best. You’ll be home by Christmas, I’m sure of it.”

Immediately we were fallen upon by gushing female sales assistants who “oooh’d” and “aaaah’d” over me. They even complimented my crazy short hair, which made Mum grimace. The hair style wasn’t a success with my mother and I’ll probably keep it short forever just to piss her off.

And that was that. They spent the next hour showing me different styles of dresses, which Mum scrutinized with eagle eye attention to detail. Too racy, too frumpy, too cheap.

Meredith and I spent the whole Tube trip home sitting in stunned silence.