Pictures of Lily

each cheek. My mum smiles nervously while I glare at her over his shoulder.
    ‘And this is Antonio,’ Mum says.
    ‘I so glad to finally meet you,’ he cries.
    I wish I could express the same sentiment.
    ‘Dinner’s almost ready,’ Mum says jollily. ‘What can I get you to drink? White wine?’
    ‘ Sí , sí , perfetto !’
    Mum emerges in record time with Antonio’s glass of wine. She’s clearly unsure about what trouble I might cause in her absence. ‘Take a seat at the table, my love.’ I realise she’s talking to him, not me. Now I understand why I’m getting a home-cooked meal. And to think I thought she was looking out for me for a change.
    ‘Lily works in publishing,’ Mum tells Antonio, ushering me to the table.
    No. I can’t do this. I cannot do small talk tonight.
    ‘Do you?’ Antonio asks with interest as he sits down. Suddenly I feel as stubborn as a mule. My mum gives me a little push, but my feet are going nowhere.
    ‘Lily, take a seat,’ she urges brightly.
    ‘No.’
    ‘Lily,’ she warns.
    ‘I’m not hungry any more.’
    Mum laughs a nervous laugh and looks at Antonio. ‘She’s not feeling very well.’
    And with that, I’m out of there. I go into my bedroom and shut the door firmly, wishing with all my heart that it had a lock. I switch off the light and lie down on the bed, covering my face with my arms. I’m almost too tired to think.
    It’s a good twenty minutes before my mum comes to check on me.
    ‘Please come out, darling.’
    I don’t bother to answer.
    ‘Do you want me to bring you some food in here?’
    Again, silence.
    She leaves me to it after that.
    I open my eyes and stare up at the ceiling in the darkness. The realisation hits me: Ben. I want to talk to Ben.
    Richard knows my mum. He’s met her on several occasions. Ben has met her just the once, but for some reason it’s him I want to tell about her behaviour tonight. Out of the blue I remember the box in my cupboard. I leap onto the bed and pull it down, rifling through it like a madwoman as I feel, more than see, Ben’s light-blue shirt at the bottom. I want to talk to him. I want to see him. I want him to hold me in his arms and tell me it will all be alright. I want to call him. Where’s my mobile phone?
    I look over the side of the bed for my bag. It’s not there. I realise at once that I’ve left it in the living room, and the thought of going out there and interrupting my mum and Antonio’s cosy little soirée makes me hesitate.
    And then I think of Richard. Of our house. Of our friends. I’m not sure I’m ready to let go of all of that yet. I sink back on the bed and hug Ben’s shirt tightly. My mum finds me like that an hour and a half later.
    ‘Antonio’s gone home,’ she says curtly.
    If she’s expecting me to apologise, she’s out of her frigging mind.
    ‘He didn’t want to stay with the atmosphere .’
    ‘ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?’ Is that me screaming? ‘WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING? YOU’RE NOT MY MOTHER! GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!’
    White rage fills my head and I start to hyperventilate. I stare at my mum’s shocked face, surreally aware of how demonic I must look. For once she’s rendered completely and utterly speechless.
    ‘GET OUT!’ I scream again, and when she doesn’t move, I leap off the bed and shove at her wildly. ‘GET OUT!’ I slam the door in her face and collapse back on the bed, pulling at my hair with my hands and letting out an almighty wail like a banshee. Eventually the pain brings tears to my eyes and my senses return. And then I’m filled with an overbearing sadness. My mother stays away, even though my sobs must ricochet through the whole flat.
    When I eventually quieten down after a very long time, she tries again, and this time neither of us says anything. She sits on the bed and strokes my hair as tears slide down my cheeks and soak into my pillow.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispers eventually. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’
    I don’t let go of Ben’s shirt and I see her look at it curiously, but she’s smart enough to stick to her apology and leave it at that. I’m asleep before she leaves the room.

Chapter 28
     
    It takes superhuman strength, but I somehow make it through the week at Marbles , and before I leave, Jonathan promises to keep me posted about the editorial assistant position. It’s a relief to think I may get a permanent job at last – but it’s hard to get excited about anything at the moment.
    I