‘Look at you, lovely lady! All grown up!’ His watery blue eyes took her in. ‘You look sophisticated! Carly, doesn’t she look smart?’
Her mother looked at him, and softened. Her mother always looked prettier in love. That permanent scowl that left sharp little lines on her young face melted, and she smiled at him like he was her saviour. Which, Chelsea supposed, he was. Sometimes watching her mum look at Jez was the only time she liked her, or could remember what she looked like without the weight of a surly anger, of a sense of unfairness. They’d never figured out how to speak to each other. Chelsea had done everything a kid could to make her family proud, and each time she achieved something, it was like Carly took it as a knife in the back, a two-fingers ‘fuck you’ to her way of life.
‘She’s looking good,’ Carly nodded at her partner, smiling at him, but not meeting Chelsea’s eyes. It was times like those, she thought, she could live to a hundred and never understand her mum. She focused on her stepdad instead, a much more straightforward specimen.
‘Looking good yourself, Jez. Keeping off the red meat?’
He held up a hand. ‘Nothing but bacon on Sundays, and a steak on my birthday. I’m feeling ten years younger, darlin’!’
They sat down with their food on trays in front of EastEnders, and as long as her mum was quiet and Jermaine smiled, everything was fine. Kai was cuddled into her side, constantly reaching for her food, and she nuzzled his head. It was like home on a good day.
Tyler stormed in through the front door.
‘Where the fuck have you been?’ Carly yelled as he thundered up the stairs.
‘Out!’
‘Come down and see your sister.’
Jez made it sound like a request, but even Tyler knew an order when he heard one. She heard the slow steady clump back down the stairs.
‘All right, your highness?’ Tyler threw himself onto a chair in the corner, stuffing a few chips into his mouth.
‘Look what Chelsea got me!’ Jay lifted his feet in the air, and Tyler looked, turned to his sister, and then looked back at the trainers.
‘You gonna get me some for my birthday, sis? Or do I not matter any more?’
‘I got you a games console last year, you selfish git.’
‘He doesn’t have it any more,’ Jay supplied helpfully.
‘Let me guess.’ She looked at him. ‘You were bragging and one of your mates decided they wanted it.’
‘You can talk about bragging,’ Ty said uncomfortably, ‘fuck this for a laugh.’
He bounced upstairs, and Chelsea shook her head as Jez went to follow him. ‘Don’t worry about it.’
He paused, then sat back down. ‘So, Chelsea. Tell us all about life in London! You still seeing that fella, Chris?’
‘Kit, yeah,’ she smiled softly, ‘he’s really nice.’
‘And he can look after you?’ Jez assumed a fatherly pose, arms crossed, head tilted to the side. Chelsea watched with interest as her mum shuffled in her seat, pretending to be watching the TV. The sad thing was, Jez was actually asking out of concern for her. She knew that was not her mum’s intention.
‘I can look after myself,’ Chelsea shrugged.
‘But he’s loaded,’ Carly said, a question in her tone, eyes not moving from the screen.
‘He does all right. He works hard.’
Jez nodded magnanimously. ‘He sounds like a good lad.’
‘He popped the question?’ Carly was focused on her fully this time, her dull grey eyes small and mean. Chelsea didn’t like the feeling in her stomach when her mother paid attention to her. It was like she’d suddenly woken up covered in gold and her mum was wondering how much she could get if she chopped off an arm.
‘Nope. We’re not in that place,’ Chelsea shrugged.
‘It’s been a few years, hasn’t it?’ Jez said gently. ‘You don’t think he’s the one?’
‘It’s not –’
‘She’s too good for marriage,’ Carly shrugged, ‘she wouldn’t do something so bloody normal, would she?’
Chelsea frowned at her mum. ‘You’re so into the idea, you two get on and get married.’
Jez chuckled. ‘We’re common law married at this point, love.’ He looked across at Carly, that light grin playing around his mouth. ‘Once you reach your twenty-fifth fight about the laundry basket being too full, it’s the same as being married five years, so they say!’
He wheezed a little and Carly looked at him in concern before allowing her square gaze to settle on her daughter, goading her. ‘Get knocked up. Or tell him you’re knocked up. That’ll hurry him along.’
‘Never worked for you,’ Chelsea said, her lips a thin line.
Carly said nothing, lit up a cigarette and exhaled loudly. Jez paused briefly, then laughed, shaking his head.
‘How about it, love, then? Shall we get hitched to make Chelsea here happy?’
Carly rolled her eyes, but quirked a lip. ‘Quiet, you, the telly’s on.’
Chelsea looked down at Kai sitting on her lap, burbling away, and she stared at her mother, the ash from her cigarette tapped onto a small dish resting on the arm of the chair. Chelsea cleared her throat and rolled her eyes. Getting no response, she heaved her youngest brother onto her hip, and stood to open the window.
‘It’s cold, don’t open that!’
Chelsea felt herself regress instantly. ‘He’s got fucking asthma, Mum! You call yourself a parent?’
Carly glared at her, hackles raised. ‘Only out of necessity.’ She turned back to the screen, and Chelsea stood frozen, her baby brother in her arms.
‘When can we meet your boyfriend?’ Jermaine sang the word, teasing her. He’d always aimed to lighten the mood, even as a little kid he’d run around and dance and sing to stop them fighting. Chelsea smiled at him, wanting to say he could come to London, that he could stay with her and meet Kit then. Maybe he could stay over the summer and –
‘You’re not.’
Carly’s voice was cruel with laughter as she looked at Jermaine, explaining loudly and simply, ‘You see, baby, your sister’s ashamed of us. She don’t want her posh boyfriend seeing her chavvy family. She’s too good for us now.’
Jermaine frowned, looking to Chelsea for confirmation. She shook her head and twirled her fingertips at her temple, mouthing ‘crazy’. He half-smiled, but she felt like he was looking at her with new eyes.
‘How about some birthday cake?’ Chelsea stood, handing Kai over to Jez. ‘I’ll see if Ty wants some.’
She pounded up the stairs, knocking three times on the door, then pausing before another two quick taps. Their secret code as kids. She heard a brief grumble in response and slowly opened the door. The site was a tip as usual, but she focused on Tyler, leaning out of the window with a cigarette.
‘Gimme one of them, will you?’ She waded through the room to jostle beside him at the windowsill. He produced the pack wordlessly, lighter inside the packet.
‘So…how’s things?’ Chelsea breathed out a smoke circle, a skill she’d perfected at sixteen and never lost. She only smoked at home now.
‘Same as always, fucking shit.’
‘I know.’
He pursed his lips,