A Cure for Love

‘I’m sorry, love,’ she apologised, hugging her. ‘You’re quite right—I am being too protective. Very well, I’ll go home, but promise me if you want me or need me for anything you’ll ring me.’

‘I’ll ring you on Saturday morning, just so that you’ll know I haven’t done anything silly,’Jessica reassured her, adding, ‘Look, come back to the house with me now. It’s Mike’s night to cook, and I think he’s got a bit of a thing about you.’ She grinned at her mother. ‘He told me that you looked too thin. He sounded very disapproving, as though it was my fault. Come back with me, Ma.’

Lacey almost refused. The last thing she felt like was a convivial evening with a crowd of youngsters, but wisely she ignored her own feelings and needs.

This was the time to show Jessica that she respected her judgement, she knew she was now an adult, that she accepted her right to make her own decisions about the way she lived her life.

‘Well, if you’re sure there’ll be enough food for an extra mouth…’

‘I’m sure,’ Jessica assured her. As she opened the bedroom door, she turned back to her mother and said seriously, ‘Don’t think I don’t appreciate what you’ve done, Ma…or what you must be feeling, and don’t think I don’t realise how difficult all this must be for you. I’m sorry if I’m hurting you, but—’

‘Don’t say any more, Jess. I do understand. You’re a young woman now, an adult. What is Mike cooking for supper, by the way?’

‘Something with pasta.’

‘Mmm…’

In the end the evening went far better than she had expected. Lacey even discovered herself laughing as she joined in the conversation around the table, forgetting for a handful of brief seconds what had brought her to Oxford, but then she would remember, and her eyes would cloud slightly, and she would have to remind herself that for Jessica’s sake, if nothing else, she must not give in to her emotions.

It was gone eleven when she left, having refused a nightcap, and having thanked Mike for her supper.

‘I’ll be in touch on Saturday, Ma,’ Jessica told her as she walked out to her car with her.

They hugged one another, and then Lacey got into her car. She would not cry, she told herself severely as she started the engine…or at least not until Jessica could not see her doing so.

FOR THE REST of the week Lacey was tense and on edge, reluctant to be out of earshot of the telephone for too long, unable to relax properly or indeed to eat or sleep properly either.

The effect on her nervous system was inevitably adding to the stress she was already under.

By Saturday morning she was ready to acknowledge that perhaps it would have been wiser to cancel her leave and go back to work where at least she would have had to force herself to concentrate on her work.

All day Saturday she refused to leave the house in case Jessica phoned while she was out, and at four o’clock in the afternoon she finally gave in to the need which had been savaging her all week, and dialled Jessica’s number.

It was Mike who answered the phone, greeting her warmly when she gave her name, but when she asked for Jessica he hesitated a little and then told her, ‘I’m sorry, they’re not back yet.’

‘They?’

‘Yes. Jessica’s father picked her up this morning.’

Jessica’s father… Lewis!

It was only later that Lacey realised that she must have replaced the receiver without saying a single word of explanation to Mike, but at the same time she had been so shocked, so disbelieving of what he had told her and yet also so aware that in some way his words had only confirmed a fear that had been hounding her all week, that she had been unable to articulate a single word of normal conversation.

She stood beside her phone, her whole body trembling. Lewis and Jessica…How? her heart jumped in sudden protective terror. Was Lewis trying to persuade Jessica to follow his own example to ensure that she would never have any children? If so…

She realised that she had curled her fingers into angry claws, that her whole body was tense with anger…an anger she wasn’t sure was directed at Lewis alone.

Jessica was her daughter, her child. Lewis had had no part in her upbringing…in her life.

Sickened by her own reaction, she walked into her kitchen. She was jealous, she acknowledged shakily. Jealous of her daughter’s love.

She had to sit down before her legs gave way beneath her. She felt horribly weak, her body a frail, empty vessel which was threatening to let her down with its physical weakness.

How could Jessica have gone with him? Surely she must have known how worried her mother would be when she didn’t phone? Surely she must have realised she would ring…would find out?

There was a bitter taste in her mouth. What was she thinking…doing? She hated herself for the traits she was suddenly betraying; for the abyss which seemed to have opened up at her feet.

There was a mirror in the hallway. She found herself walking towards i