Stop Being a Loser Programme
Day Three
Sunday, I had toyed with taking a day off from the Stop Being A Loser Programme. But the squeeze of sorrow and loneliness when waving Joey off to another gala had refused to be appeased with a book or Netflix. Instead, it was as if peering through some of the fog I’d been hiding in for the past few years had twisted the familiar ache to a sharp pain inside my chest and behind my eyeballs. I wrestled with the temptation to slump on the sofa and sob, but I pictured myself as that girl, fourteen years ago, how she would have dealt with the heartache, and instead I used the pain to propel me to the kitchen door and wrench it open. Teeth gritted, gasping frantically, I held my ground against the panic for forty-nine seconds.
A personal best, to go alongside Joey’s four wins at the gala. We settled in front of the television that evening with glowing faces, giant smiles and plates of hot, oozing takeaway pizza.
‘Did you tell your coach I wanted to talk to him about the Gladiators trial?’ I asked, after swallowing my first bite.
‘Yeah. But can we not have pizza any more? Cee-Cee says I should avoid unhealthy fats.’
‘I don’t think a pizza every couple of weeks is going to do much harm. You need to celebrate your success.’ And for years we’d been doing that with a double pepperoni and sweetcorn. I felt a sharp twinge of agitation. Being cut off from so much of Joey’s life, these little rituals had become disproportionately important. Even more precious, now that I had woken up from my stupor, and each day seemed even longer, emptier and more unbearable than the last.
‘I’m happy with some chicken or something. Cee-Cee gave me a list. She said she’d stock up if I want.’
‘Why don’t we do an online shop together? You can tell me what you’d like, and I can show you what I used to eat when I was training.’
‘Well, okay. But Cee-Cee says—’
‘Cee-Cee never won a medal.’ Ouch, Amy, jealous much? I took a deep breath and went back to my original question. ‘So, does Coach Gallagher want me to call him?’
‘He said he’d come round.’
‘When?’ That floored me a little. ‘I’m happy to talk on the phone.’
‘Yeah, but then I can’t listen. I said you were always in, so any time’s fine.’
Well yes, I might always bein, but sometimes I was alsoinmy pyjamas, orinthe shower,inbed freaking out under the duvet, or just generallyinan otherwise unfit state to be welcoming visitors…
‘He said he’s got a full-on couple of weeks but will let me know.’ Joey wolfed down another slice, contrary to instructions. ‘So, I was looking you up online.’
Oh, crap.My mouthful of pizza turned to a concrete lump halfway to my stomach. I should have guessed this would happen and prepared Joey for it. Preparedmefor it.
‘Some of your races are on YouTube. You were awesome.’
‘Thanks.’ I held my breath. Braced myself.
‘But that interview on breakfast TV was well bad.’
I took a careful drink of water to try and clear the lump. ‘Anything else? Or was that it?’
‘Nah, that’s it.’ He fidgeted in his seat, started pulling a piece of crust into tiny pieces. ‘Only, I was wondering… did you stop because of me? I mean, you were like nineteen when I was born, weren’t you?’
‘No.’ I sat up straight, looked my son in the eye. ‘No! I’d already stopped when I got pregnant. It was nothing to do with you. Although, if you had been the reason – it would have been totally worth it.’
‘Well, obviously!’
The doorbell rang, and I hastily adjusted my dressing gown while Joey answered it. If it was Coach Gallagher then I might have to hide behind the sofa, which wouldn’t be a great start.
‘It’s Cee-Cee!’ he yelled, despite the front door being only a couple of metres from the living room.
Rolling my eyes, I stretched back out along the sofa again. For the first time, I felt a twinge of pity that Cee-Cee, who had spent all day with Joey, and now had the freedom to go and do whatever she liked, had nothing better to do than keep coming back here.
‘I’m not staying.’ Cee-Cee walked into the room holding out an iPad, a video paused on the screen.
‘Awesome!’ Joey stuck his head right next to mine. ‘It’s me crushing it, Mum. Look – watch that start. Aaahh – bad turn though.’ He carried on commentating, analysing his performance against the other competitors, until he sat back, triumphant. ‘The champion once again.’
I couldn’t speak.
