Ella's Ice Cream Summer

by Sue Watson

  Ben was laughing now; ‘Caught between two generations.’

  ‘Exactly! And it’s a minefield honestly, my kids are a constant reminder that the world is changing and everything I thought was fact might not actually be true.’

  ‘That sounds scary,’ he said, supressing a smile.

  It was nice to have someone listen to me for a change and he seemed to find my story amusing. So I continued to tell him about my mother’s inadvertent dip into Sapphic seas, which ended when she discovered Frederick on Facebook and decided her gender was pretty stable after all.’

  ‘You’ve certainly got your hands full, Ella,’ he said, when I’d finished. ‘I see now why moving down here would be impossible.’

  ‘Yes, then there’s the social whirl, I have a carousel of funerals to attend with my mother, usually followed by several washes and an evening meal to serve,’ I said, checking my watch, ‘it’s all glamour – oh and my train’s leaving soon, I’d better get off.’

  I’d been chatting so long I’d not realised the time and was relieved when Ben offered to drive me to the station rather than have to wait for a taxi. ‘I want to hear more about your mad mother and your crazy life in the north,’ he laughed as we climbed in his car. It was an old mini and once seated I felt like my bottom was on the ground. It reminded me of driving through Salford as a teenager with an old boyfriend. Or was it just being with someone like Ben that was making me feel young again?

  His eyes were firmly on the road as we set off and I took the opportunity to survey him close up. It was a long time since I’d been alone in a car with a man – and it might be a while before it happened again, so I savoured every moment. Nice firm legs in jeans, sexy stubble and raggy cuffs on his jacket, the car smelling of sea salt and sun cream. I could have travelled for miles like this, but too soon we’d arrived at Barnstaple station. We agreed that Ben would look at options for buyers and then I would make a decision as to the fate of poor old Reginaldo before we exchanged numbers and I ran for my train.

  By the time the train pulled away from Barnstaple, I was telling myself to forget the last few hours, go home and face reality. I would send out my CV to all the local shops and ask around to see if anyone had any work – anywhere. I tried hard to summon up enthusiasm, but all the way home I watched the trees flash past as Devon disappeared into dusk and all I could think about was Appledore and Aunt Sophia’s delicious gelato.

  The memories were bittersweet – the relationship rift between Mum and Aunt Sophia had torn everything apart and ultimately left Sophia alone. Her husband died, Gina went off to live her own life, and Sophia stayed behind only for her hard work to disappear like sand between her fingers.

  I thought about how my own life was currently doing the same. My kids were leaving, I’d lost my job and I was set to be a divorced unemployed single parent living with her mum who at seventy-eight had a better social and romantic life than I did. My dreams had been dealt a blow in Appledore too; I hadn’t got to see Gina, I’d hoped for a share in the café but instead I was now returning home the not-so-proud owner of an octegenarian van.

  Was there still time to do something more with my life and get that Facebook fantasy? Should I just play it safe and not risk losing what little I had, or should I throw caution to the wind and embrace what apparently the universe had given me? Perhaps this was my adventure after all?

  7

  Lovely George Clooney and Cheryl Cole-Thingy

  The trip to Devon had opened my eyes to the possibility of something else and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t let it go.

  I tried to forget the salty air, the long, golden beaches and the hot, ice cream summers of my childhood, because I had real life to deal with and a monthly mortgage to pay. I had to get a grip; there was no huge windfall, no ice cream business and no Gina. Yet the other part of me, the one who had run into the sea with Gina, and made crazy, towering sundaes, dared to wonder… what if?

  The following weekend both my kids were leaving for their summers away, and I had to be in the present and just make sure they went with everything they needed, and one of those things was a happy mum.

  Once everything was sorted with the kids then I would call Gina – I didn’t have a number for her but I was certain I could make contact – surely Ben would have a number she could be reached on? Yet I didn’t feel that my life was in the right place to speak to my successful, beautiful cousin just yet. I wished I could call her and say ‘Yes I’m doing well, I am CEO of a company, my husband and I just celebrated our silver wedding and we’re all off on a family holiday to Cannes.’ I’d follow this call up by emailing photos of the company, the family and the holiday, just like the ones I saw on Facebook. But with a failed marriage, no job and a soon to be empty nest, I didn’t have the confidence to call – and there were no photos to show off with. One thing was for sure though – whatever happened to me, I wasn’t going to make the same mistakes our mothers had made and leave it too long to make contact.

  Meanwhile, I had a lot of other stuff to think about, from the kids’ passports, to toiletries, to malaria tablets to condoms (I’m a realist). I had an awful lot of other people’s requirements filling my head – and my shopping basket – and having these things to worry about was keeping my mind off the real trauma that my babies were leaving.

  Eventually the time came for Lucie to leave and I drove her to the airport while Josh slept in the back of the car (I’d asked him to come along, worried I might need physical and emotional support). Mum had been upset about Lucie leaving; she was as protective of them as she had been of me. So I’d suggested she say her goodbyes to Lucie at home rather than waiting around at the airport, and seeing her leave which might be more painful.

  ‘Now keep in touch won’t you… it’s easy and free on Facebook,’ I said as I drove her to the airport.

  ‘Yes but I’ll only communicate with you on there if you stop putting on lame posts about that old man,’ she groaned.

  ‘Who, lovely George Clooney?’ I teased. ‘I only wrote that he was my dream guy. It’s not like I posted my naked breasts all over the page.’

  ‘Oh gross,’ Josh muttered from the back seat, waking up groggily at the horrific prospect.

  ‘Which reminds me,’ I said, ‘talking of old people posting naked body parts, I’m not very good online and Josh leads her astray, but can you still keep an eye on Nan’s online activities while you’re away?’

  Lucie smiled; ‘Yeah, don’t worry, I’m always across that shit.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘But I reckon we’re one photo away from her getting her Instagram shut down,’ she warned. ‘And someone should take her Twitter off her.’

  ‘Not Donald Trump again?’

  Lucie pulled a face; ‘Putin.’

  ‘Oh Christ, really? And to think until recently all I had to worry about was her having a tattoo on her bum like Cheryl Cole-thingy and plastering it all over the net.’ I could only dream of those halcyon days, when all I worried about was my mother appearing on a niche tattoo-porn website. Now I was concerned about the KGB living in our loft and what to pack for my thirty-year stay in Siberia.

  ‘Oh the Cheryl tat was funny.’ Lucie smiled, gazing ahead like it was a lovely moment of nostalgia.

  ‘No it wasn’t, I had to convince her that just because “the lovely girl off X Factor” had a rose on her arse it didn’t mean she should.’

  ‘But she wasn’t going to have it on her arse…’

  ‘That’s not the point, Lucie. She’s seventy-eight, she shouldn’t be thinking about tattoos… or arses for that matter. Talking of which have you heard from your father?’

  ‘Not since 2007,’ she said.

  Great, that meant The Dick hadn’t made any financial contributions to Lucie’s trip.

  ‘Anyway, who says Nan can’t have a tattoo?’ she said, picking at her nails. ‘It doesn’t matter how old you are, it’s Nan’s body even if she did want it on her arse…’


  ‘Stop talking about your nan’s arse, it’s disrespectful,’ I said, and we both giggled. And I giggled so much I started to cry because I was going to miss Lucie so damn much and I had to pull over and Josh had to drive while I sobbed on the back seat.

  And later, when we waved her off at the airport I could think of little else but my little girl three years old in pigtails with a lisp – and it felt like yesterday.

  Two hours, several frappuccinos and a box of tissues later, I was still a nasty mess but managed to drive home with Josh as navigator. It was less scary than letting him drive.

  We were just pulling up outside the house and I’d gathered myself together, when he started talking about Aarya, his girlfriend, and how much he liked her. This was unusual for Josh, he’d rarely shared his feelings with me since he was little, and suddenly he was telling me all about his relationship. This revolved around how kind, beautiful and clever Aarya was and how he saw their future together, which was lovely. He told me Aarya meant Princess and she was ‘just like an Indian Princess with her long dark hair and beautiful brown eyes’. I was amazed, this was the first time we’d spent longer than ten minutes talking – the last time didn’t count because he was asking for money with his earphones in.

  ‘She’s going to miss her little dog, Delilah, while we’re away,’ he said.

  ‘Aah, well I suppose they could Skype?’ I joked.

  ‘She won’t be able to – her parents are refusing to look after Delilah while we’re gone,’ he sighed theatrically. It was then it dawned on me that this wasn’t perhaps about my son opening up to his mother after all.

  ‘Oh that’s a shame,’ I said, ‘but I’m sure someone will take care of her for Aarya while you’re on your travels.’

  ‘Actually Mum… we wondered if you’d like to look after her? She’s so cute… she’s a tiny Pomeranian… ’

  ‘I’ve seen Aarya’s photos and Delilah is very cute, but I’ve got enough on my plate, Josh. I don’t need another mouth to feed.’

  ‘She just needs TLC, she’s very old, Mum – she’s only got one eye.’

  ‘Josh I’ve got enough with a human OAP who needs TLC – I don’t need a canine one.’

  I glanced across and he was looking at me with big eyes.

  ‘And you can’t use emotional blackmail, or anything else in your armoury – Aarya’s dog is not my responsibility, therefore the guilt trip won’t work.’ I pulled hard on the handbrake for emphasis and climbed out of the car.

  For once Josh didn’t answer me back, but meekly followed me into the house where my mother was sitting on the sofa. She had the volume on high and was engrossed in some Jeremy Kyle drama.

  ‘But Mum…’ Josh started again.

  ‘No,’ I said, stopping him before he could tell me some shaggy tale about how this amazing dog had rescued Aarya from a burning building.

  Mum was watching the TV, engrossed as a heavily tattooed bloke threatened to punch another heavily tattooed bloke, and by the way she was bouncing I reckoned she was joining in.

  ‘Ooh it’s like the wrestling,’ she gasped, one hand to her mouth, the other on the sofa arm to steady herself in the excitement. ‘Did Lucie get off okay? I was trying to take my mind off her leaving by watching a bit of Jeremy.’ I had to smile; I didn’t think a bear pit filled with angry people being verbally tasered by the presenter was quite the sanctuary mother implied.

  ‘Yeah Lucie was fine, not sure about me though,’ I smiled, wandering over to the sofa and sitting next to her.

  Mum put her arm around me, a mother comforting another mother; ‘I’ve shed some tears too, love… our little girl going all that way,’ she sighed, dragging herself away from the on screen action to give me some attention in my hour of need.

  ‘I know. Hard to believe, isn’t it?’ I sighed, resting my head on her shoulder.

  ‘Well she’s living her life – she’s going off to find herself a nice young man… and it’s about time you did.’

  Mum seemed to see my single status as some kind of deformity that had to be fixed – or hidden. Only recently she’d introduced me to her new friend Doris, who she’d met at a tea dance, explaining, ‘No, she doesn’t have a husband any more, she let him go.’ This was said like I’d sacked him, or been careless and lost him at sea, when it was him who walked out on me. I hadn’t chosen this status, it had been forced upon me, and Mum held the old-fashioned view that a person wasn’t complete without a partner.

  I pulled away, ‘Not everyone’s looking for a date, Mother.’ I hated myself for snapping at Mum but sometimes I wished she’d stop the constant reminders that I was single, like I didn’t know.

  ‘Shall I put the kettle on, ladies – two teas?’ Josh was saying in an unusually ingratiating voice, walking into the kitchen.

  Mum and I both looked at each other. I was surprised he knew where the kettle was, let alone making the tea.

  ‘What the bloody hell’s wrong with him?’ Mum said, one eye back on the TV. ‘Is he on those drugs, do you think?’

  ‘I hope not,’ I said, horrified.

  Then she turned away from the TV and looked at me soberly. ‘His girlfriend’s pregnant by another man.’

  ‘Christ no… but I thought everything was perfect, that he loved her,’ I felt sick. This was so unlike the Aarya I knew. ‘Where did you hear that, Mum? Was there something on Facebook?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So how do you know?’

  ‘Jeremy Kyle told me,’ she said, pointing at the screen like I was mad.

  ‘Oh you mean him. The tattooed man’s girlfriend’s pregnant?’ I sat back, breathing a sigh of relief and tucking my feet under me.

  ‘Yes.’ Mum looked at me and rolled her eyes like I was the one who’d caused the confusion.

  Before she could fill me in on any more TV scandal, Josh entered the room with a tray and cups of tea and biscuits, something I’d never known him do before. I was beginning to wonder if my mother was right. Was my son under the influence of some illegal substance?

  ‘You okay, Josh?’ I asked, trying to look discreetly into his eyes for dilated pupils as he put the tray down on the coffee table.

  ‘No… I’m not, Mum.’

  ‘Those drugs,’ Mum muttered under her breath, ‘he’s on that “canarbiss”, Ella, they’re all on it now.’

  ‘Thank you, Mother, I can handle this…’ I started, hoping she’d go back to tattooed Tommy and his mate still giving Jeremy Kyle a hard time.

  ‘It’s everywhere isn’t it, Joshy?’ God, the woman never stopped. ‘Frederick and I were wondering if we should try it, might calm my arthritis and his dodgy hip.’

  ‘Not ganga, Nan,’ Josh said, ‘you’d be all over the place.’

  ‘Ha, I am anyway,’ she sighed and returned to the TV.

  ‘Mum, I’m… worried,’ he looked at me under his lashes.

  ‘Oh love, what about?’ I asked, as he settled down on the arm of the sofa. I touched his arm. ‘You can tell me… are you worried about going away?’

  He nodded slowly and my heart swelled.

  ‘Oh love,’ I said, putting both arms around his waist. He may be taller than me, and think he’s all worldly, but he was still a little boy at heart, a little boy who was going to miss home, miss his mum. And I was going to miss him too.

  ‘Thing is – if Aarya doesn’t find anyone to look after Delilah she says she can’t come away with me.’

  ‘Josh,’ I said in gentle chastisement. I pulled away and took a sip of lukewarm tea – he hadn’t even boiled the kettle properly.

  ‘But, Mum, Delilah’s so cute… and she can take the place of me and Lucie – keep you company while we’re away.’

  ‘I’ve got Nan for company – when she isn’t romancing her latest fling Frederick. Besides, no one could take the place of you and Lucie, even a cute dog.’ I had to assert myself over this dog business.

  ‘But Mum, we leave on Wednesday – and it’s not like you’re going anywhere is it?’<
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  ‘Oh no, it’s not like I’m going anywhere. In fact, I’m going nowhere,’ I said, but Josh was now on his phone, lost to me, and I looked around the room, the phrase echoing in my head. ‘I’m going nowhere.’ I’d felt this dip the minute I’d hit the grey Manchester streets; they didn’t compare to the sunshine pastels of Devon and the sea.

  ‘So what do you say, Ma?’ I heard him say, waking me from my reverie.

  ‘She’s the cutest little dog,’ Mum muttered, now on her phone too.

  ‘Josh, have you just texted Nan to say that?’ I asked.

  ‘No Mum, I wouldn’t do that… I tweeted obviously. Nan knows how important it is to save a life, don’t you Nan?’

  ‘Yes, my love,’ she said. ‘I retweeted it,’ she was smiling at her grandson like he were a god. I don’t know how I was expected to keep my kids under control when my mother ruined them both.

  Josh could get anything out of me, he was sweet and charming and had a way of playing the vulnerable card beautifully, but not this time.

  ‘I’ve got some stuff to do,’ I said before either of them could say any more and headed upstairs, leaving them to their Twitter campaign. I was more concerned about a job right now than a dog. I headed upstairs to dig out my old CV and search job websites, something I hadn’t actually done yet. Until now I’d thought I might have some money, one way or another, via Sophia’s inheritance, but even if Ben’s friend managed to sell Reginaldo for me he wouldn’t be worth much. This was now officially a financial crisis and I had to act quickly.