Can't Live Without by Joanne Phillips Read Free Book Online

I did all the work on it myself, but still. Generous. Although, I was never sure whether he only bought it because he just couldn’t stand all the noise and the mess at home any longer.
    But I don’t want to talk about him.
    Just at the point when Doris Day reveals to the man of her dreams that she scrubs up quite well I hear the front door open. Bugger, my favourite bit ruined. I look at the clock. It is just after four and I deduce from this that my mother is returning home. How, you ask? No way on earth she’ll miss Deal Or No Deal . She adores Noel Edmunds. Well, somebody has to.
    I gather up my duvet and creep out of the lounge, hoping to make it to the stairs without being discovered. No such luck.
    ‘Stella! What a lovely surprise, you’re home already. Oh sweetie, are you not well?’
    She drops her bags on the parquet floor and rushes over to put a hand on my forehead. Why do mums do that? I swat it away and glare at the bags.
    ‘I thought you were broke. Where’d you get the money to buy all this stuff?’
    ‘Don’t be angry, Stella,’ she pleads. ‘I know I shouldn’t have but I couldn’t resist. Look, this was such a bargain, half price.’
    The object she holds out is so hideous I physically recoil.
    ‘Urghh, what the hell is it?’
    Little black eyes stare malevolently out of a shiny round face. (That’s the ornament, not my mother.)
    ‘Well, anyway,’ she puts the offending item away – half china dog, half Chucky the killer doll – and produces a heap of fluffy baby-blue fabric from yet another bag. ‘I bought you a present too, sweetie.’ Hands it to me.
    ‘Thanks.’ Jesus, haven’t I suffered enough already?
    ‘They’re pyjamas,’ she tells me.
    ‘I can see that.’
    ‘They weren’t expensive. And you lost the ones I bought you for Christmas in, you know, the fire .’
    This she whispers as if I could be physically burnt by the word fire .
    The last lot of pyjamas she bought me had gone the way of all the others long before the fire – to the charity shop – but I say a dutiful thank you and give her the insisted upon kiss. I have so few clothes I can’t afford to be fussy, and I am actually quite touched. They probably were expensive, as she would never shop anywhere cheap, and the fact that she’s spent money on me that she could have spent on herself is nice. Although, then you have to consider that she has no money of her own and everything she spends goes on credit cards – credit cards that I will probably end up having to pay off for her. Then the generosity pales a little.
    ‘It’s quarter past four! Come and watch Deal Or No Deal with me, Stella.’
    That I can live without.
    I make an excuse and retreat upstairs.
    Only to find myself pacing around aimlessly like a caged sloth. This room has remained unchanged since the day I went to university and I’d never considered that weird until now. My eighteen-year-old self stares back at me via posters, books and keepsakes. I know that under the bed I will find a box of cards and letters from old boyfriends, and on top of the yellow-pine wardrobe my old record collection: early acid house, Salt-n-Pepa, Duran Duran. The shame!
    My door is slightly open, and when I hear noises on the landing I press my nose to the gap. Lipsy and a person I can only assume is her new boyfriend are creeping along the corridor towards her room, hand in hand, stifling giggles. As I’d only heard of his existence a few days ago, you’ll understand that I wanted to have a good look. I make my eye big and peer at them from behind the safety of the door.
    The boy is taller than my daughter by a good six inches, but then she is a little mite so he’s probably not that tall. He has that fine wispy hair that always makes a bloke look younger until he loses it, then he ages really quickly. Lipsy has her face close to his and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look so beautiful. I feel sorry for them and jealous of them all at the same time. Her