“Yeah. But an evil one, though,” said Penny. “Honestly, until you tell me that she really encouraged Stephen”—Penny always referred to their father as Stephen, never as Dad—“to even phone us once, ever, I’m having real trouble dredging up the sympathy.”
“I’m not sure about living in London,” said Lizzie. “I need to find a new job, and it’s really dangerous and expensive and busy and I don’t know anyone . . .”
“But that’s what makes it great,” said Penny. “Honestly, you’re such an old maid.”
“Shut up.”
“OK. Don’t. Fine. I’m perfectly happy to move into a huge Chelsea apartment for free on my own. See you at my Chelsea registry office wedding, suckers.”
“Stop it, you two,” said their mum. “Lizzie, pet. You know, it really is time you thought about getting a place of your own. And now you’ve lost that job . . . it’s a great opportunity for you, darling. You don’t want life to pass you by.”
“I don’t mind,” said Lizzie.
Their mother smiled. “Well, maybe I do. Just, you know, try not to get knocked up with twins in two months or anything.”
Lizzie had a month’s salary in hand, and Penny had raided the tips jar on her way out, so together they would have enough to afford a taxi to take them into town.
“And I’m never coming back,” said Penny. “Well, only in a gigantic big car. Not a limo, you can get those for twenty quid an hour down at Rumours. A Rolls-Royce or something. It can come and get me in my wedding dress on my way to Westminster Abbey.”
“Who are you marrying?” said Lizzie. “Prince William?”
“Or I’ll have found some fabulous job. PA to a celebrity or something. And they’ll pay me masses of money.”
Lizzie stared out of their little bedroom window. Four ten-year-olds were jumping on top of a burned-out car.
“I’m not sure I’d know what to do if I had any money.”
It was true, she mused, staring at the gray paint factory under the gray sky. She and Grainne had talked it over a lot, what they’d do if they won the lottery. For a start, she’d have to lose the weight. And, she thought, I’d get a horrid stick-thin personal trainer with an aggressive Australian accent who’d shout harshly at me in the park and act absolutely stunned when she found out how many Pot Noodles I get through in a week, and talk about how, once you’re used to it, mung beans and broccoli are actually nicer than cake and hot buttered toast. Or it’d be some perfectly proportioned bloke with a wide-boy smile, and I’ll end up getting a terrible crush on him because he’s being a cheeky charming chappie and I won’t realize that’s how he speaks to all his “ladies” because it helps them to stay motivated, and he’ll have to kindly explain this to me after I’ve been fantasizing madly about him for weeks and have convinced myself he’s falling for my inner beauty. Then he’ll be really kind and explain that actually he’s seeing this Australian personal trainer girl whom he really thinks is the one.
“Don’t be stupid,” said Penny, interrupting her reverie. “You could buy something you’ve always wanted.”
“A horse, maybe,” said Lizzie, throwing her cheap market knickers into a holdall.
“What would you do with a horse?” said Penny. “Eat sugar cubes together?”
“Well, maybe,” said Lizzie, making a face at Penny’s narrow back. “Maybe we’d have a special bond nobody else could understand, and no one else could tame him and he’d have beautiful black hair and . . .”
“Ah, see what you’ve done?” said Penny. “You’ve confused a horse with Colin Farrell again, haven’t you?”
Lizzie sighed and went back to throwing knickers in a pile. It was all right for Penny. She was good-looking and everyone liked paying attention to her. It wasn’t quite as much fun when you were trailing along behind carrying the bags.
Their mother had been acting strange all week. Lizzie had tried to believe it was because she was sad they were leaving, but she seemed happy and excited.
“Well,” Lizzie said finally, just as the taxi was drawing up outside the house on Sunday morning. It was a proper black cab and everything; Penny knew lots of the neighbors would be coming out to see the “little twins” head off to London, and wanted to do it in style. “I guess we’re off.”
“Oh, it’s only London,” said their mother. “I’ll see you all the time.”
“We’re moving away from home!” said Lizzie.
“Yeah,” said Penny. “That’s how it works in EastEnders, isn’t it? They go up West and they’re never heard from again.”
“And it’s a good thing for you,” said their mum. She leaned over and gave Lizzie a big hug.
“What are you going to do, then, Ma?” said Penny. She didn’t really like being enveloped in her mother’s big beefy arms.
“Well, get a couple of lodgers in, won’t I?” said their mum. “I’ve had some good news too. The school’s going to give me early retirement.”
“Oh, that’s brill,” said Lizzie. “So you really will be able to put your feet up!”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” said their mum. “I’ve got a bit put away, after all these years. I was keeping it for you two, when you moved out to find your own feet, but you won’t be needing that now, so . . .”
“So what?”
“So I’m going.”
“Where?”
“Bingo?” said Penny.
“To the RADA, of course!” said their mother. Her face suddenly creased into a big smile.
“To the what now?” Lizzie had no idea what she was talking about.
“To the RADA, of course! I hope they’ve kept my place.”
“Have you suddenly caught whatever Gran has?” said Penny.
“No, no, no,” said their mother. “I’ve got a place at the RADA. The Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts. I’m going to be an actress, darlings.”
“How can that be?” said Penny.
“Well,” said their mother patiently, “I auditioned and I got in. It’s really difficult.”
“Yes, I know that . . . when?”
“Uh, let me see . . . how old are you two now?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“Must have been twenty-eight years ago, then,” said their mum. “Fell pregnant with you guys, couldn’t take up my place. They said they’d defer it for me, though.”
The children were silent.
“For twenty-eight years?” asked Penny finally. “You think they’d keep your deferred place for twenty-eight years?”
“I don’t see why not,” said their mother huffily. “It’s my place.”
Lizzie put her suitcase down and headed toward her mother. “Why did you never tell us?” she said.
“I didn’t want you to feel sorry for me for missing all my opportunities by having children and ruining my life.”
“We wouldn’t have thought we’d ruined your life,” said Lizzie. “Oh. Oh, did we ruin your life?”