A Suitable Lie Read Free

against my collar, but stopped herself before she could finish the action. I looked to the ceiling and felt like a teenager.
    The top of her head barely made my chin, even with her jolt of thick white hair, which went well with her purple, sleeveless summer dress. And all the beads. When she had reached pensionable age, my mum had read the Jenny Joseph poem and run with it.
    ‘Mum.’ I made a face and fought down a cringe. Here I was, the manager of a large part of a massive organization and with nothing more than a look my mother could have me behaving like a shy, thirteen-year-old.
    ‘Can’t a mother be pleased with her son?’ she asked, squaring her shoulders and looking around herself, taking in the counter and the team of staff working behind it. Her expression said, my son’s your boss and he’s done me very proud indeed.
    I often wondered what my mother would have made of her life if she’d had the same ambition for herself as she’d had for her sons. She had a bullet-eyed view of the world and an ability to assess what was going on around her that often left me feeling inadequate. Not that I agreed with her on every occasion, she was my parent after all, and a young man has to find his own way in the world.
    ‘I hear she’s a bit of a looker,’ she said.
    ‘You’ve been talking to Jim.’
    She hoisted her bag – a garish orange – into a more comfortable position on her shoulder. ‘At least he tells me stuff.’
    ‘Aye, well, Jim’s got a big mouth.’
    I understood Mum’s perspective. She was understandably curious. Anna was the first woman I’d shown more than a passing interest in since Patricia’s death four years before. But I wanted to be sure we had something before I introduced her to my family. And more importantly, before she met Pat.
    He often asked about his mum. He understood – as much as a child could – that his mother was ‘in heaven’ and he had recently begun to ask if he was going to get another one.
    Perhaps the answer to his question was in the fact that every moment away from Anna had my stomach twist with longing. It would have been easy to have her over at mine every night, ask her to stay till morning. But my sensible side kept reminding me that it had only been four weeks since we met. Who knew where this was going?
    Except I did know.
    From that moment on the wall down by the shore.
    Could I afford to fall in love again? My grief for Patricia had almost broken me and I was self-aware enough to know that part of me was holding back because I wasn’t sure I could go through thatagain. What if I let this love take over and I lost her as well? There wasn’t just me to think about this time.
    ‘This is more than a wee fling, isn’t it, son?’ My mother was studying my expression.
    ‘Haven’t you got a bowling match to prepare for?’
    She snorted, pleased she could still read me.
    ‘I knew that your father was the man for me on our second date.’
    ‘Yeah, I know all the stories, Mum.’
    ‘So, tomorrow night.’ Thursday was late opening at the branch. ‘When you come to collect Pat, bring whatsername…’
    ‘Anna.’
    ‘… with you. We’ll make it casual. A friend dropping by. It’ll be easier for Pat that way.’
    I nodded, seeing the sense of what she was saying. Plus – I was allowing myself to relax into the idea now – it meant I would get to see more of Anna. Trying to juggle her, the job and Pat was becoming increasingly difficult.
     
    T he next evening, I picked Anna up from our other branch. Well, around the corner from our other branch. I wasn’t quite yet at the stage where I could allow my colleagues in on the secret.
    Anna sat in the passenger seat with a long, slow exhalation, followed by a deep breath and then a tight smile.
    ‘Hey, gorgeous,’ I said and leaned across to kiss her cheek. As my lips pressed against the cool of her skin I felt her face rise in a smile and caught the delicate heat and spice of her perfume. I read the