Twenty

Dearest reader

I hope you are well. This one got a bit dark, unexpectedly (trigger warning: sexual abuse, attempted rape). It stands alone, but '

I have made love

' would provide a bit of context and backstory.

Thanks very much to

DawnDuckie

for editing - go and read her

stories

after this! All remaining errors and flaws are my fault entirely.

Happy reading

Love T x

___________________________________

August 2006

"Mummy, look it! 's Maisy!"

Lauren proffers a book to me, grinning and pointing.

"Oh yeah sweetie. Maisy Mouse. That's lovely. Whyn't you go an' sit and look at it while Mummy tries ta find some clothes, okay?"

"Mummy read it!"

"In a minute sweet'eart. Mummy's gotta try n' find some clothes for work."

"Read it, read it, read it!" She bounces up and down. Right now she's happy and enjoying the game, but I can tell she's about twenty seconds away from causing a scene in the charity shop. And I really need to get myself some suitable (and cheap) clothes for work.

"Excuse me? Would you like me to read it to her?"

I swivel to the girl, well, woman really, behind me. Immediately, I spot two things about her. The first is her hair, which is short at the sides and long at the back, like a mullet, curly and dark; it doesn't really suit her. She's far too pretty for it. The second thing is her smile, which makes my heart race. She kind of reminds me of somebody, but I can't think who.

"Er... fanks, yeah, would ya?"

"Of course." She squats down to Lauren's eye level. My little monkey has gone silent and is hiding behind my trackie bums. "Hi! I'm Mikalya. What's your name?"

Lauren hides further behind me, pressing her face into my legs.

"Sorry, she's a bit shy. Go on Lauren. Listen to the nice lady. She'll read it ya."

"Hey Lauren. Can I see the book? Maisy? Oh I love Maisy! Who's your favourite? I like Eddie."

I watch as the woman - Mikayla - sits crossed legged on the floor and gently takes the book from Lauren. I think Lauren is more fascinated by her than the book. She does have a lovely voice, posh-like and real warm. It puts me at ease, and clearly does the same for my daughter.

Keeping half an eye on them, I flick through the clothing rail. I need some black clothes: T-shirts, tunics, mini-dresses, leggings, trousers, anything really, to wear under the salon apron. I'd like a mix: it's still quite warm out, but it'll soon be proper autumn, so warmer stuff would be good.

I pull out a few things. Some I know will fit, others I really should try on. I sigh at the price tags. I've got to eek out the child support, though I feel bad spending it on clothes for me. But I need the clothes for the job, and the job to pay for nursery. It's cheaper here than new, but still double the price of what it would be up in the St Peter's hospice shop in Southmead. I'd tried there first, but only managed to find one pair of trousers for three quid. Mum thought I'd do better down in Westbury, where there's more choice, and she's right.

The Maisy book finished, Lauren toddles off to the children's book section to grab another book.

"Fanks so much!" I say.

Mikayla smiles up at me. "No worries Mummy!"

"Oh doan call me that! Makes me feel old!"

"What's your name then?"

"It's Poppy."

"That's beautiful... oh, hi sweetie, what's this? Charlie and Lola

I will not ever never eat a tomato

? That's a shame, I love tomatoes, don't you?"

Lauren shakes her head emphatically.

"No? Well, we can't have that. My dad grows the best tomatoes in the world ever! They are so delicious, they are like a party in your mouth!"

Lauren giggles. "That's silly!"

"No it's not. My tongue starts dancing, my teeth start clapping. It's a proper fiesta!"

"What a fee esta?"

"It's French, innit?" I ask.

"Spanish," Mikayla's correction is gentle, but I still feel embarrassed. "It means party."

"Oh yeah, course." I can feel my cheeks go red.

"Silly mummy!" Lauren giggles.

"Mummy's not silly," Mikayla's voice is still kind, "I think your mummy must be very smart and clever to have a daughter like you." She bops Lauren on the nose, which brings more giggles.

"Excuse me, can I get past?" A slightly peeved looking chap doesn't wait before pushing by us. Mikayla quickly scoots back, gently gathering Lauren into her lap so she doesn't get knocked over.

"Fanks, so much," I say again.

"Not a problem. It must be really tough shopping with little ones."

"That ain't the 'alf of it. I gotta get some clothes for my new job."

"Congratulations! What are you going to be doing? Hang on, Lauren sweetie, I'll read that in a minute, I just want to talk to your mummy for a second, okay?"

"'Kay." Lauren starts thumbing through the book.

I smile down at them. "I'm gonna be a trainee at Central 'cross the road. I finally finished the 'air and beauty care course at college, so really looking forward to it. I couldn't start before, but luckily this one starts nursery next week."

"How old are you, Lauren?"

"Free."

"Three? My goodness, you're nearly a grown up!"

Lauren giggles at that preposterous notion.

"Well, shall we read this while your lovely mummy tries on some clothes?"

"You sure?" I ask.

She waves at me as she starts reading. "I have this little sister Laura..."

"Lola!" laughs Lauren.

"Doh! Silly me. Glad you're so smart Lauren!"

"Fank you! Won't be long. Be good Lauren."

Two of the dresses fit nicely, but I'm not sure about the trousers, though they are a bargain at four quid. I bite my lip, trying to look over my shoulder at myself in the mirror to see what my bum looks like, but I can't really tell.

I stick my head out. Lauren is laughing away as Mikayla points things out and makes silly voices. So sweet. I should read to her more, especially while she's still into books this easy. Even I can manage Maisy Mouse.

I wait for a pause.

"Um, Mikayla?"

"Yep?"

"Can you tell me whadya fink of these? Do they look okay?"

I turn around and pose for her, holding my t-shirt up around my boobs.

"Are you asking if your bum looks big in it? Well the answer's no. They fit really well. You look..." she nods and swallows, "great."

"Aw, fanks. You ain't just saying that, are ya?"

"Your mummy looks gorgeous, doesn't she, Lauren? Absolutely stunning."

"Yeah." Lauren doesn't put much enthusiasm into it. Little traitor!

"Aren't you lucky to have such a beautiful and hard-working mummy?"

Lauren looks up at me, a puzzled expression on her face, which breaks my heart a little.

Mikayla fills Lauren's silence. "Well, I think your mummy is beautiful and hard working, so you should too. Does she make your meals for you?"

"Yeah."

"Does she help you in the bathroom?"

"Yeah."

"Well, there you go, she isn't just a pretty face - she's hard working. It's hard being a mum."

"Oh my Gawd. That's so sweet and you doan even know me. Fank you!" I met her five minutes ago and I already want her to be my best friend.

"No problem Poppy. Being a mum is tough."

"You got lil' ones too? Maybe they could 'ave a playdate?"

She laughs and I love the sound of it. Real musical. "No, bless you. Too young. I'm only 22."

I gulp and blush. I'm 19.

"Well, fank you," I say, turning back to the fitting room, "I'll get these then. I'll just be a minute Lauren."

I slip back into the changing room and quickly put my tracksuit back on. God, what would she think of me if she knew how young I was. I mean, there's plenty of other mums my age up in Southmead, but it isn't like it's a badge of honour there either.

I decide to leave one of the t-shirts - it fits, but it isn't worth going over budget for - but take the rest of the clothes up to the counter.

"Can I 'ave these please?" I ask the lady there.

"Mummy, Mummy, get 'em, get 'em!" Then Lauren's around my legs, waving a bunch of books at me.

"Um, lemme see sweet'eart. Maybe we can get one, if I got enough." I take them from her. They are a quid each and she's picked three.

"'Ow much are the cloves?"

"That's fourteen pounds my dear."

Bollocks. I've got a tenner and a fiver. "'Ang on a sec." I root around in my purse, and then my pockets, hoping that I might find a forgotten coin, but I know I won't. I look at the pile of clothes - two dresses, a t-shirt and a pair of trousers - wondering if I can do without the t-shirt. "Lauren, sweet'art, you can 'ave one, okay. Which one duya want?"

"All free mummy!"

"Just one sweetie. I ain't got enough for all of them."

"I'll tell you what," the lady behind the counter says, "I can let you have two for one."

"Aw, wouldya? Fanks so much. Didya 'ear that Lauren! You can 'ave two!"

"Want free!"

"Let me buy the other," Mikayla says, popping a pound on the counter.

"I can't let you do that!" I protest.

She shrugs. "It's all for charity, isn't it?"

"Here you are, dear." Suddenly, I'm being passed a bag of clothes and books, and Lauren is hugging Mikalya's leg and laughing, and I know I'm beaten.

"Well, that was very kind of ya. What do we say, Lauren?"

"Fank you!!!" Lauren yells in her little squeaky voice, bringing smiles from others in the shop.

"Yeah, fank you both. Come in Central in a few weeks and I'll see if I can get ya a discount or summat."

"Okay Poppy, I might just take you up on that!" Mikayla smiles at me and I think again how much I'd like to be friends with her. She's so open, so relaxed. Not like the girls I went to school with, all watching each other all the time. "Lovely to meet you Lauren," she says, squatting down to Lauren's height, "enjoy your books."

"Faaank yoooou 'Kayla," my little monkey replies.

I think for a minute about asking Mikayla for her number, maybe see if we could.... Do what, exactly? No, what's she going to want to do with me? Come to the playpark or the kebab on Greystoke? Not bloody likely.

"Bye then. Say "bye" Lauren."

"Bye, bye," she sings out. Bless her little heart, she keeps waving all the way out the shop and round the corner. Looking back through the shop window I can see that Mikayla is waving too.

Then a builder's van beeps me and the guy leans out to yell, "awright gorgeous!" and it totally ruins my mood.

* * *

"Alwight, Sharon I'll see you tomorra, yeah?"

"Okay Poppy, thank you, bye!"

Stepping out of the salon, I turn up the road towards the nursery to collect Lauren when somebody calls my name.

"Poppy?"

Spinning around, I see Mikayla with a dog on a lead over the street. "Oh, hiya Mikayla, you awight?"

She checks both ways, then crosses. "Yeah, I'm good, thanks. I wasn't sure if it was you. You've changed your hair."

"Nah, not really." I flick back my chestnut curls. "I doan usually wear me 'air down is all. Just gets in the way." And attracts even more unwanted attention.

"Well, it looks really good like that. Suits you."

I blush at the compliment. "Yeah, that's what Sharon said. She's me boss."

"You just finished?"

"Yeah, jus' off to collect Lauren."

"Oh great. Mind if we tag along? I've got to walk Bozo here."

I'm dead chuffed, so give her a smile. "That'd be sound. Lauren'd love to see ya. It ain't far." The dog is sniffing my lady bits.

"Bozo! Leave her be. Sorry, my parents' dog. He's got no manners."

I stroke his head a bit and he sniffs my hand, then loses interest. "He's awight. What type is 'e?"

"He's a labrador. They've got no imagination, my parents, when it comes to pets." I start walking and she falls in beside me. "It's the third one they've had. He's only two, so doesn't know me very well."

"Oh yeah, why's that?"

"I've been away from Bristol for the last four years, up in Manchester with a year abroad in France, studying. I've only just moved back."

"Oh wight," I say carefully, "so ya looking for a job then?"

"Not right now. I was teaching English last month at a summer school. It paid pretty well. Dad had me in his office last week covering his receptionist's annual leave. But I'm starting another course in two weeks, so I'm just enjoying a few days of laziness."

We pause, while Bozo checks out an interesting scent. "What's ya course?"

"I'm going to do a Masters degree in International Relations at Bristol Uni."

"Oh yeah, sounds in'resting." I've really no idea what that means, but I'm not going to admit it.

"Yeah. I'd love to work for the EU or maybe even the UN, so I figured it might help my chances. It's only for a year, so I can apply for roles while I'm studying. Might have to join the UK civil service first though."

"Uh huh," I nod.

"So, how's your job going?"

"Oh yeah, well, it's awight. 'snot the UN or anyfing."

She laughs, but it sounds kind.

"They nice people?"

"Yeah they are, actually. I mean some of the wimmen that come in can be a bit snobby an' all, but Sharon puts on her posh voice for 'em and it's fine. I just try an' keep my mouth shut when I 'ear 'er talking like that."

"That's silly. You've got a lovely voice."

"Aw, that's sweet. You doan 'afta say that."

"No, I mean it. Do you think they'll keep you on?"

"I 'ope so. It's dead convenient for Lauren's nursery and it ain't too far from our 'ouse."

"Where do you live?"

"Oh, er," I blush a bit. I mean she's probably worked out that I'm a Meader, but I don't really want to admit it, "jus' up near Greenway."

"Oh yeah, that is close. Near David Lloyd, right?"

"Yeah, I fink so."

"My mum uses the gym there."

I have a sudden, horrible, flash of my mum, with her twenty a day habit and pot belly going to the gym and grin. Not bloody likely. "Oh wight," I say, "you live local do ya?"

"Yeah, just back there," she turns and points, back past the salon. I don't know if she means one of the houses there or opposite, but I think to myself that maybe it means we'll bump into each other again, which'll be nice. "Maybe you and Lauren can come over one time. My dad has tomatoes ripening right now: we can see if we can persuade Lauren to try one."

"Tha'll be the day," I say, "she's fussy as anyfink." I don't mention that I'm much the same. "But yeah," I say, "I'd like that." God, I'll have to try to talk posh for the parents. "Whadda they do, your parents?"

"My mum's a teacher, Business Studies. She used to work in insurance years ago - which is where she met my dad - but switched to teaching when she had my brother, because it was easier with childcare. You know how that goes, right? Dad's a cost underwriting analyst." My confusion must show on my face because she adds. "Yeah, I don't really know what that means either, don't worry. I think it's to do with insuring insurers."

I suddenly realise I don't want her asking what my parents do - mum's a cleaner and dad is God knows where - so I change the subject- "'S good to be back. See old friends?"

"Yeah. Kind of. I mean, Bristol's lovely, isn't it? But most of my old friends from school have left and moved on. Most are in London. There's one close friend of mine here, but seeing her is complicated." She smiles, sadly I think, then looks at me. "So it's always nice to make new friends."

For some reason my heart skips a beat at that. I smile back. "Yeah, yeah 'tis." We're nearly there. "The nursery's just 'ere. Will ya stay and say 'i to Lauren? She'd luv it. She luvs dogs too."

"Of course."

"Alwight, won't be a sec."

* * *

"Doggie! 'Kayla!"

This is the fourth time in two weeks Mikayla has met me after my shift has finished and come to collect Lauren with me. Lauren still hasn't learnt that the dog is called Bozo, but Bozo doesn't seem to mind. He's very good with her, tolerating her tugging on his fur and cuddling him.

"Do I get a hug too, Lauren?"

Lauren happily hugs Mikayla.

"You smell yummy!" she says.

"Thank you Lauren! Did you have a good day?"

They chat sweetly as we walk home through Baddock's wood. I'd never have thought to walk this way if Mikayla hadn't suggested it that first time, but I'm glad she did. Not only are there fewer twats in cars yelling at me to show them my tits, but it's beautiful and Lauren loves it. I watch and admire how MIkayla interacts with Lauren, talking to her gently and sweetly, exaggerating her reactions, sure, but never making fun of her or putting her down, just gently correcting her sometimes. Lauren points out things on the walk, asking what they are and Mikayla tells her - she seems to know everything. I'm glad she's here as I wouldn't have a clue which tree was ash or birch, which butterfly was an admiral or cabbage white.

"And how was your day, Poppy?"

I love how she asks me this.

"Yeah, it was awright. Mostly washin' 'air and sweepin' to be 'onest. Sharon did lemme 'elp with a dye an' a perm, so that was good. Kinda wanna do some cuttin' soon, but most of the ladies come in ask for a specific stylist, know wha' I mean? Sharon says next walk-in we get I can do."

"Still, it's work right? Must be good to be back working again?"

"Yeah, I guess." I shrug. I wouldn't know: it's my first job but stuffed if I'm telling her that. "Warra 'bout you then? You been up ta much?"

"Look it, look it!" Lauren comes running up with a dandelion clock and then Mikayla's bending down to marvel at it with her and ask her if she knows what it is. Then she's explaining how the seeds float on the wind, and they blow it together, watching the seeds float off, and I get a sudden weird flash of jealousy. I'm miffed that Lauren's robbed me of Mikayla's attention. I shake myself. What kind of mother am I to be jealous of my own kid?

Then Lauren's trotting off to explore again, Bozo on her heels, while Mikayla chuckles at her retreating form.

"Such a sweet kid you've got. You must be very proud of her."

I blush, remembering what I'd just been thinking, and manage a simple, "yeah, she's great."

"Anyway, to answer your question, I've mostly been reading the set texts before my course starts. It's pretty dry stuff, but interesting too. I like the historical side, for instance when Rawls gets into the ethical considerations..."

I nod and "uh-huh" as she talks, but she's lost me, but I really don't want her to realise that. I enjoy hearing her talk though. It's so different. Kids at my school never talked like this about books; it wasn't cool to be clever there, to be seen to try, to care about your grades.

"Cor, you're well inta your politics, ain't ya?"

She chuckles. It's a lovely sound. "Yeah, I guess, sorry if I'm going on a bit."

"Nah, you're awright. So, do ya go on demos and that?"

"I went to a couple of anti-war marches, back when the Iraq war first started, but I'm a centrist really. I was gutted when Charles Kennedy resigned, but I like this new guy, Clegg. I think the Lib Dems could do well next time, especially if Blair steps aside for Brown. He just hasn't got the charisma."

I haven't got a clue who these people are she's talking about, but nod and smile. A slash of sunlight falls through the canopy, brightening her face and, for a moment, lightening her hair. I wonder what she'd look like blonde. I think it would suit her. She's so pretty.

"Sorry, I hope you don't mind. Who do you vote for?"

I'm saved from answering by Lauren jogging up covered in burrs - "all sticky mummy!" - which we both have to pick off her while she squeals.

She walks all the way with us this time. When we get home, Lauren's all keen to show Mikayla our room. I think my embarrassment at our scuzzy little council semi, with its overgrown front garden and broken gate must be obvious, as she excuses herself.