All that stops now – no cheating. Also, no biscuits, or cake, or chocolate. One coffee to get me going in the morning and then I’m on the water and herbal teas.
A wicked grin creeps over my face. But think of the upside! No more dashing around the house before breakfast getting suited and booted, spending half an hour on hair and make-up. I can throw on a jumper over my PJs and leave early enough to get that prized parking space right next to the school gates. The only space nestled between the end of the zig-zag lines and the start of the double yellows. The one everyone covets so they can watch their little darlings walk the three strides up to the member of staff on duty who ushers them inside.
I glance across at the sparkly crystal award sitting in pride of place in the middle of the bookshelf. Sally was right: I deserve this and I’m going to make it work.
~
‘Mum, are you really going to be around all the time now?’
‘Mostly. Why?’
‘I’ll still spend time with Grandma and Granddad, won’t I?’
Rosie is sitting opposite me at the kitchen table, her little face crinkled up into a frown.
‘Of course you will. You can still have sleepovers whenever you want and we can pop over after school at any time for a visit.’
I can see she’s putting this together and I know there’s a question coming.
‘When someone dies, where do they go?’
Ah. I suspect someone at school has lost a grandparent and the kids have been talking.
‘Well, your soul goes to another place. Some people call that heaven. But usually people only die after they have had a long and happy life and they leave behind lots of wonderful memories.’
Now she’s toying with the chips on the plate in front of her, aimlessly pushing them around.
‘But what if you don’t want them to go?’
I walk around the table and kneel down next to her, easing the fork out of her hand.
‘When we truly love someone, they remain in here.’ I place my hand over my heart. Rosie’s eyes follow my every move. ‘They are always with us. Grandma and Granddad are fine, darling. There’s nothing at all to worry about.’
She hangs her head.
‘I don’t want anyone to die, Mum. I like things the way they are.’
I wrap my arms around her, planting a kiss on the top of her head and then smoothing back her long, dark brown hair away from her face.
‘Life is all about change, Rosie, and mostly that’s a good thing. The only thing that’s changing for us right now is that we’re going to have a new routine. Life won’t feel quite so rushed and I’ll be here whenever you need me. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?’
At last, the smile is back on that pretty little face of hers.
‘Yes, Mum. I like it when we can have dinner together and watch TV before bed.’
It’s always the small things that children miss when life gets hectic. There have been too many nights when I’ve missed dinner entirely, barely arriving back in time to put her to bed. It hasn’t been fair on Mum and Dad, and it hasn’t been fair on Rosie.
‘Well, I like that too and if you’ve finished here let’s quickly clear this away and curl up on the sofa, together.’
Her smile broadens enthusiastically and I find myself taking in every little detail. My little girl is growing up so very quickly and I wonder, fleetingly, how different life would have been for her if Antonio hadn’t left us. But he did, and I’ll never forgive him for that.
It’s the start of week two of the new regime and I’ve made two new discoveries, already. Firstly, that living in PJs isn’t quite me and the postman was beginning to wonder what was going on. One morning when I also happened to be having a particularly bad hair day, he asked me if I was feeling any better! The other discovery is that sitting in the same position for hours on end isn’t good for you. Even if you can avoid the snacks and sugary drinks, your body starts to rebel. I’ve invested in some track suits and after being caught lusting over a fitness tracker, Mum and Dad turned up at the weekend with two neatly wrapped little parcels. Mine was a Vivofit with a gorgeous red strap and Rosie’s present was a watch.
‘Just a little congratulatory gift,’ Dad said, as we opened the boxes.
I couldn’t protest, but it did bring a tear to my eye as we had a group hug.
Suddenly, my mobile kicks into life and I see that it’s Sally.
‘Morning. I’ve just retweeted you and shared your latest post,’ I inform her.
‘Thanks, I’m running behind this morning. I’ll be online shortly to reciprocate. I’ve only just had time to glance at the free paper. Did you know there’s an article about you?’
I gulp. ‘No. What, in Saturday’s paper?’
‘Yes. It’s a nice little article, actually. Well done, you! Anyway, must make a start but I have that Monday morning feeling. Maybe I need a little sugar fix.’
‘Well, I’ve just done my first walk of the day and am about to make a chamomile tea.’
Sally groans. ‘Okay. Point taken. It’s mind over matter and I’ll have a cup of tea instead. You’re beginning to sound like a health nut, but I do hope some of it rubs off on me. I need to get back to the gym, that’s for sure. Catch you later.’
I rummage around in the sitting room for the paper and when I can’t find it, I ring Mum.
‘Only me. Do you have a copy of the local paper? I can’t find ours and Sally says there’s something in there about the award.’ I can’t keep the incredulity out of my voice.
‘Oh, that will be Keith. Dad said he bumped into him in the supermarket. He’s one of their reporters and Dad told him all about your success. Roger?’ Mum calls out to Dad and I wince, as she hasn’t pulled the phone away from her mouth. ‘Leah’s on the phone. She says Roger did an article on her – what fun!’
Fun?
‘Um … Mum, can you find it for me? What exactly did Dad say?’
‘Only how proud we were that you’d won an award. He’s found the paper. Oh, my!’
It’s a positive exclamation but a chill runs down my back.
‘Gosh, there’s even a photo of you. How wonderful! Roger, ask next door if they’ll let us have their copy. I’m going to frame this one and we need a copy for Leah to show Rosie.’
I feel like a bystander.
‘Don’t worry, Mum, I’ll go online to read it. Must go.’
‘Don’t forget you’re both here for dinner on Wednesday night. I’m making spaghetti bolognaise.’
‘Wouldn’t miss it for anything.’
My phone is already nestled between my shoulder and my chin, as I Google the paper’s website.
It’s probably a quarter of a page in total judging by the length of it and the headline is Leah Castelli Brings Home a Top Travel Award. I breathe out a small sigh of relief. Clearly this is based on the press release circulated by the Traveller Abroad publicity people and not merely