She narrowed her gaze. ‘I’m the one who’s seen him in action. Seen the drive and passion. Seen him win. Taken him training, to competitions. I deserve a say.’
I jerked back on the sofa as if I’d been slapped. ‘That’s what this is about. A second chance at second-hand glory. Anold colleaguecalled you, or did you call him?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ scoffed Cee-Cee.
‘I’m sick of you undermining my authority as his mother—’
‘What authority? You’ve not a clue what might be best for Joey. He’s already said yes. I’m the one who insisted we tell you.’ She shook her head, dismissing the point.
‘Get out.’
Cee-Cee looked at me for another long, hard minute, before pulling herself up to go.
‘Leave the key.’
She stiffened in the doorway, still facing away.
‘We’re done. You’ve controlled my life for twenty-three years. You will not do the same to my son. Manipulate him to go against my wishes…’
She twisted round, her face mottled. ‘Your wishes are wrong! They’re the wishes of a mentally ill, housebound, has-been. I don’t control your life, fear controls your life. I saved it! I saved you both! We are not done. You need me.’
‘I’m starting to realise that’s just another lie. It’s you who need us. You’re the has-been. You were grateful to have us, after everyone else turned their back on you. Without Joey, you have nothing. But he isn’t yours. And I’m taking him back. I’m taking both our lives back. Leave. The. Key.’
‘I respected your wishes. Even now, I didn’t tell him.’ And with those words, the person who knew me better, longer, than anyone else in my life, who took me in when my partner, my parents, the world, didn’t want to know, took the key to my house – my life – out of her jacket pocket, deliberately placed it on the windowsill and walked away.
Feeling numb, and weirdly detached from my body whilst at the same time more grounded, more solid than I had done in years, instead of crying or raging, I simply stared at the carpet for a long, long time and wondered what on earth we were going to do now.
* * *
I found Joey huddled behind his laptop.
‘Here.’ Swapping his laptop for a mug of hot chocolate, attempting to ignore my internal stampede of multiple deep, dark issues, I wriggled beside him on the bed.
‘I’m sorry.’ Tears hovered on his eyelashes. ‘I wanted to tell you.’
I leant in and rested my cheek on the top of his head. ‘I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have made you feel you couldn’t talk to me.’
He nodded, his soft blond hair rubbing against my skin.
‘Will you tell me about it now?’
‘You always say your problems mustn’t stop me trying stuff. Or doing what I want to do. And I want to try out for the Gladiators.’ He caught a tear that spilled over onto his cheekbone. ‘But I knew if I asked, you’d say no.’
‘Oh, Joey.’ I wrapped my arms as tightly as I could around the torso I’d watched broaden into swimmer’s shoulders over the past year, and reminded myself that this wasn’t about me. ‘It must have been rubbish, keeping something so exciting from me.’
‘Yeah.’
‘I’m worried Cee-Cee might have persuaded you to want this, without being honest about what it would actually entail. Do you really want to be swim training five or six days a week, often twice a day? You’d have to stop football, and cricket in the summer.’
Joey wiped his nose on his hand. ‘I’d rather be swimming than anything else! When I’m swimming, it’s like, I dunno, I forget all the other stuff going on. I feel free of everything. I feel invincible. Like I’m flying. Like I really am a superhero!’
‘I understand, believe me.’ I understood so hard, it was a searing ache in my chest, a burning behind my eyes. ‘But why not carry on with the Brooksby team? Once you start training at Gladiators level, it’s really hard to keep that feeling. It becomes about split-second timing and practising until your arms nearly drop off, and teammates being rivals, because only the very best will make it to nationals. It’s never being satisfied, always being pushed and pressured to be good enough.’
‘But Iamgood. That’s why it’s awesome. This is my thing. Mum, I’m faster than every person in the club. I can beat everyone in our league without thinking about it. I want to do even better, to learn more. To be the best I can be at this. To see if I can be really good.’ He sat up and looked at me, eyes wide, mouth trembling. ‘What if I could bereallygood? You said I’m an athlete. I have to at least try.’
I took his hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘It’s getting late. We need to talk some more about this, after I’ve had a think. But – let me finish – I’ve heard you, Joey. I understand what you’re saying. You know I love you and I want the best for you.’
‘If that were true, you’d let me try!’