Page 71 of If We Were Young

“Hannnnnaaaaahhhhh!” I screamed up the stairs.

Godzilla’s Mum was in town. With a cracking bloody headache.

“I have to go now.” My fingers stuck to my forehead as I swiped at it. It was hot. I was hot. I don’t know, something was hot. And not sexily.

“I’m coming.” She flung open her door and then punished the stairs as she came down them. The neighbours must hate us—official.

“Sorry, Han…” I faltered. “What have you got on your face?”

More eyeliner smudged around her eyelids than my skin had seen in a decade—admittedly mine wouldn’t be seeing any in a while because of my mirror graffiti work.

“And what’s wrong with your eyebrows?” They’d doubled overnight. I was pretty sure they weren’t that big last night.

“It’s just make-up. I’m going to that party, remember? You said I could.”

Ma’s tut was six syllables long from the kitchen. I turned and glared before refocusing on Hannah. “But, Han, Sweetheart, the party isn’t until this evening, that’s a whole day of school away, and you still haven’t given me the details about it.” I stared at her face. Where were her freckles? And what was with the brows? “Mr Jewson will ring my office before I’ve even got to work if you go like that.”

“Wow, Mum, you look nice.” Hannah appraised my blue dress and black heels. I’d dug deep in the back of the wardrobe looking for anything that would distract from my face and the lack of sleep. I high-fived myself because it was working until she said, “Aren’t you putting any make-up on?”

“I have.”

“More. Put more on.”

“I tell you what, why don’t you come closer and rub your face on mine and we can share what you’re currently loading.”

Godzilla’s reptilian eyes squinted into a slither.

“I’ll let you off that because you are in a romantic crisis.” The sass on this girl knew no bounds.

“Hannah. Shush.” I glanced over my shoulders to where Ma pretended to do her crossword at the kitchen table. I’d already survived the Spanish Inquisition over my morning mug of tea. Hannah frowned. “And anyway, you don’t get to let me off things. I’m the parent, remember?”

A snort blasted from the kitchen.

Okay. That’s was enough. I turned back towards where Ma sat. “Have you got something to say? Anything of any use to me or Hannah right now?”

Ma eyes widened, her mouth falling open. “No.”

“It sounds like you have.”

“No, Veronica. I haven’t.” Her fingers smoothed the crossword and that familiar pang of guilt that I’d upset someone made my stomach ache. “But don’t forget your date tomorrow evening with Bridget’s son.” My stomach, already tied into knots, tightened even more. A bit like fine origami in the crushed grip of a toddler.

“I haven’t forgotten.” I had. Totally. I stared her down for a full minute and waited for her to make a noise or facial expression. When she didn’t, I swung back to Hannah. I didn’t know what she saw in my eyes but whatever it was, it made the protest she had pursed on her lips evaporate. “You get your coat on and grab your stuff. I’ll go and get the wet wipes. You can fix your face in the car.”

“But Ange said it looked nice.”

“She’s not your mother, Hannah, I am.” I did a doubletake as I launched into the cloakroom for a packet of baby wipes. “And when did you speak to her?”

“This morning. I showed her my make-up, and she said to remind you she’s in town.”

Shit, I’d forgotten, what with the dinner with Matthew, and the kissing thing.

“Okay, let’s go, let’s go.” I circled my hand and tried to coax her out of the house.

“Looking sensational today, Boss Lady.” Fred wolf-whistled from where he perched on Natalie’s chair. Natalie gave a little jump when she clocked my outfit and then clapped loudly.

“Wowser, Ronnie. What happened?”

If they all started to clap, I swear I’d shut us down.