Lime and Soda ✓

twenty-five - comfort

The following week brings the final sunny spell of the summer, an outburst of late Japanese anemones in Bea's garden, and my mother.

The weekend prior to her arrival is spent in upheaval at the house, as we all frantically clean and try to work out an arrangement in which six people are squashed into three small bedrooms, accounting for Elliot's sexual tendencies and the fact that Jay sharing a room with anyone other than me would be supremely awkward for everyone involved.

Eventually, we decide diplomatically that Bea will share with Mum, Jay and I will continue sharing the spare room and Elliot will sleep on Jules' floor. Bea puffs loudly as she negotiates the spare mattress down from the attic and into her room. Jay and I are on hoovering duty and making sure there isn't a single speck of dust for when she arrives. Jules sits at the kitchen table nursing a strong black coffee and moaning loudly about how cramped it's going to be.

Everything is finally deemed clean and tidy enough by Bea. I don't think I've ever seen the house so clean, or felt my back ache so much, but she seems satisfied.

On Monday morning I wake with a kaleidoscope of butterflies making themselves at home in my stomach, and feeling close to tears, but in a good way. I haven't seen my mum for six whole weeks and even though I'm used to it, even though we do this every single summer, I still miss her as the weeks go by with a constant ache inside me. We're so close, me and Mum. The only thing I hate about spending the summer at Bea's is the reason why I'm there. She's missing from every family dinner we have, every trip to the beach or to the pub, every long country walk on a Sunday, every meal that Bea cooks.

She's also going to meet Jay today. I haven't told her anything about him over our phone and FaceTime calls, though she keeps asking if I've met any cute boys. I keep telling her no, though I think she suspects something. I think the nervous, excited knot in my stomach is mostly due to this meeting. I hope they like each other, hope they get on as well as Jay gets on with Bea. She'll put in a good word for him, no doubt, and Mum always listens to Bea, but somehow I'm still nervous. What if she doesn't like him? What if he doesn't like her? She can be very... full on sometimes. I hope she doesn't scare him away.

I'm shaken from my thoughts by Bea, yelling up the stairs. 'Violet Pearce, you get out of bed this instant and come and help me make a nice breakfast for when your mother gets here. God knows she'll want it after that drive.' I can almost hear her rolling her eyes. 'Eight hours, don't know why she does it...' She goes back into the kitchen and shuts the door without waiting for an answer.

'She's coming now?' I practically leap out of bed and dive into the shower. When I emerge, thirty seconds later, shaking my head like a dog to get my hair to dry quicker, Jay rolls over in bed and groans. I throw a pillow at him while searching in my drawer for some underwear with my other hand.

'Wake up, wake up, Mum's coming!'

'Mmmm,' he moans into his pillow. 'I thought she wasn't coming until tonight.'

'So did I,' I say breathlessly, trying to pull on my jeans while blow-drying my hair with my other hand. When I'm presentable I hurl myself down the stairs and arrive in the kitchen panting. Bea looks up from the stove.

'Mum's coming now?'

'Yes, she woke me up with a text to say she'd just got off the motorway and she'd be here in an hour. Must've driven overnight. Honestly, I don't know, she could have given me a bit more notice, that woman...' But she's smiling as she says it, and I know that she's just as excited to see her as I am. 'Right, Violet, you can lay the table, and Jay can...' There's a crunching of gravel in the driveway and I run to the window.