The Mistake I Made Read Free Page A

flip-flops and a cold, dripping bottle of Peroni in the village square.
    ‘So sorry,’ I said emphatically. ‘I’m so, so sorry. George, quickly, get your things.’
    ‘Roz?’ said Iona.
    ‘I know. This is unacceptable. How much extra do I owe you?’
    ‘Ten pounds,’ she said. ‘We’ve had to start charging five pounds for every extra quarter of an hour, or parents don’t seem to see the urgency.’
    ‘Here,’ I said, pulling out a note, ‘take twenty. I know you can’t keep on—’
    ‘Roz,’ she said sadly, ‘it’s not the money. It’s my time. I’ve been here since seven-thirty this morning, and I have a life, you know?’ Iona didn’t raise her voice as she spoke. She was too professional to get angry in front of George. It was almost worse in a way. She spoke as if I were letting myself down. Letting my son down.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ I repeated. ‘It won’t happen again, I assure you.’
    ‘We’re going to have to call an end to this arrangement. It’s just not—’
    ‘Don’t,’ I said quickly. ‘Please don’t do that. I can’t manage without it.’
    ‘It’s not that I don’t understand, Roz,’ she said. ‘I can see that you’re struggling. But you’re late practically every day, and it’s not fair. It’s not fair on us and it’s not fair on …’ She didn’t finish her sentence, simply gestured towards George, who was pretending not to listen as he collected his lunchbox from the windowsill. Having run out of biscuits, I’d stuck a peach yoghurt in there this morning and was now regretting it. The school had a policy of sending the kids’ rubbish home with them so you’d know if they’d eaten all of their lunch. That empty yoghurt pot would be supporting its own ecosystem.
    Turning back to Iona, I saw she was waiting for me to speak.
    ‘I don’t know what to do,’ I said honestly, as I thought through the logistics of the following week.
    Iona didn’t offer a solution. Unsurprising, really, since her patience had run out over a month ago. I’d had second chance after second chance.
    I could ask my sister.
    No. Today was her fortieth birthday. We were attending her party this evening and she was off to New York next week. My parents were too far away and I’d made a promise to my sister that I absolutely would not put on them again. I’d let them down in the past, and I couldn’t bear to ask for their help. At least not for a good while anyway.
    Winston was unreliable. He had left George waiting at the school gates more than once when he’d become fascinated by extreme weather and had gone off storm chasing at the coast.
    Iona cleared her throat. She was still waiting for me to speak.
    But then, oddly, as she attempted to stand, she winced.
    ‘Are you okay?’ I asked as I watched her adjust her weight, moving from one foot to the other.
    ‘Not really, no,’ she answered, and she sighed. Twice.
    ‘Oh, okay,’ she said eventually, her expression beaten, jaded. ‘Okay, Roz, one more chance.’ And before I had time to express my gratitude, before I had a chance to tell her I would absolutely not let it happen again , she reached down and lifted her trouser leg.
    ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got ten minutes to have a look at my knee, have you?’

3
    LOOKING BACK, I can see how everything was ultimately building towards this point, the point when life went off at a crazy tangent, but I think it was the note itself that was the trigger for the series of events that followed.
    DON’T GO INSIDE
I SMELL GAS
LOVE CELIA
    It was taped to my front door and had been put there by my neighbour. Celia had lived in the village for five years and was not a native; she was in fact a Scouser. But if you asked her where she hailed from, she’d say, ‘Southport, Lancashire’, in her best telephone voice. (Notice: Lancashire, not Merseyside. An important distinction, apparently.)
    When I first moved into the cottage we had a few run-ins – Celia getting herself into a