A Mother Never Lies by Sarah Clarke

Author:Sarah Clarke [Clarke, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2021-06-18T12:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Phoebe

The freezing December night takes my breath away as I step out onto the pavement and turn towards home, but it does little to dampen the warm glow inside me; I imagine my own combustion engine will keep me fired up tonight. Perhaps it was being asked to remember my nineteenth birthday like that, and my tiny room in that easy-going house-share. My life was so full of parties back then: bars, all-night clubbing, days spent exchanging outrageous stories with my housemates. But then I met Dan, and I was so head over heels in love that his request that I tone down my lifestyle was easy to agree to. I wonder how different my life might have been if I’d put up more resistance.

‘You heading home, Fiona?’

I turn back towards the café and nod. I’m getting used to my new name now, enjoying it even. It’s as though it symbolises the fresh start I’ve been given.

‘Is it far, where you live?’

I pause, a habit I’ve picked up every time he asks me a question. I can’t help wondering, will this answer be one clue too many? Is this the piece of information that makes the penny drop? And the more time I spend with him, the harder it gets because I start to relax, to forget the huge lie that sits between us.

I’m being stupid of course. No 3-year-old knows their grandparents’ address, let alone one who doesn’t even recognise their own mother. ‘Battersea. Just off Queenstown Road.’

He pauses now, and I watch him weigh up my response, as though he’s calculating the route in his head. I think about the first day I met him, his kamikaze mission in the park, and I wonder if he’s ever made his way to my part of Battersea. With the highest crime rate in Wandsworth, it would be a dangerous place to look for trouble.

‘I was thinking of stopping at the Anchor. For a beer.’

I look beyond him, but he’s on his own. Hana was meeting some girlfriends for a birthday night out and Marco had rushed off too, although he’d been much more tight-lipped about his destination. I’m not sure why he wants to keep his life away from Bittersweet so private, but it would be a bit hypocritical of me to push him on it.

‘Only, I spent all my money on that prosecco.’

It takes every ounce of effort to stop myself from grinning. Not only is he suggesting we have a drink together, he’s trying to sponge some cash off me. In this moment, I’ve never felt more like a parent. ‘I can buy you a beer,’ I say, the grin half seeping out.

As we walk inside the busy pub and Ben gestures towards a small table in the corner, his way of telling me he’ll wait there, I realise that I’m about to break the law. Ben isn’t 18 yet. Of course I’d had plenty of drinking experience by the time I was his age; progressing from

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