The Café in Fir Tree Park. Katey Lovell

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hooked on the beauty vloggers’ channels, constantly looking for tips on how to perfect her eyeliner flicks and discover which foundation offers best all-day coverage on a shoestring budget. All the important stuff.

      Kelly groans. “Mum, really! It’s me you’re talking to. I’ll put in the work, I’m not like Josh.”

      “I know you’ll put the effort in. I do,” I answer, ensuring my voice stays soft and reassuring. I don’t want to risk it veering off towards fussy fuddy-duddy mode, because Kelly doesn’t respond well to being told what to do. Never has, even as a tot. She’d been one of those puce-faced children who kicked and screamed at the supermarket checkout when she wasn’t allowed a packet of chocolate buttons, always knowing what she wanted and doing her level best to get it by fair means or foul. Both my children had been like that, and I don’t want to dwell on what that says about me. A psychoanalyst would have a field day, I’m sure.

      I choose my words carefully, talking slowly. “But I can’t help but wonder if you only want to go to university because you think it’s expected of you, and that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

      I catch Kelly’s gaze. Her turquoise eyes flash, but not with anger, and a tangible rush of love flows between us. For a second I wish I could turn back time. Things were bloody tough when the kids were little, but at least then I’d felt I was making a difference. Back then I’d had some level of control over her life and how she experienced the world. These days I have to trust the mistakes she’ll inevitably make will be minor rather than major. Kelly’s very much her own person, a glorious muddle of juxtapositions – stubborn and flighty, beautiful and petulant, angry and delicate – but beneath the lipstick and mascara she’s still my baby. She always will be.

      “You don’t have to take the same path as your friends, you know,” I continue. “There’s more to life than university, other options you could explore. I was already pregnant with Josh when I was your age…”

      “Are you saying I should get pregnant?” Kelly jokes. Quick-witted as ever, especially when a conversation takes a serious turn. Just like her dad. He never wanted to talk about anything heavy either. I bat away thoughts of Clint because there’s no point ruining a perfectly lovely morning. “I didn’t think you’d be up for being a grandma just yet.”

      “Absolutely not!” I exclaim, flustered. I can feel my cheeks burning up; they’ve probably already turned an attractive shade of beetroot.

      “All I’m trying to say is that what’s right for one person isn’t always right for another. I was married with a baby on the way when I was eighteen, whereas at the same age Josh got accepted on to his physics degree. Your dad…” I pause, consciously trying to keep the distaste from displaying on my face. I never purposefully badmouth Clint to the kids, as much as I’ve wanted to at times. It’s not their fault that their dad’s a waste of space. “…well, he was already in with the wrong crowd by then. But you, my gorgeous baby girl? The world’s your oyster! You can do anything you put your mind to. And you don’t need a piece of paper from a stuffy university to do most of it, and you definitely don’t need the debt that goes hand in hand with it. I wouldn’t be saying this if I thought history was your passion. But I don’t think it really is, sweetheart, do you?”

      I wait for an answer, but nothing’s forthcoming. Kelly’s nibbling on the skin of her thumb, a bad habit she’s had since she was small, and I resist the urge to tap her hand away from her mouth.

      I smile gently, hoping it can reassure her. “All I’m saying is three years is a long time to be miserable.”

      Kelly smiles back awkwardly, more grimace than grin. “I don’t know, Mum. Everyone’ll be going away in September – Tash, Meg, Luke … I don’t want to be the only person stuck here when they’re all having fun at freshers’ nights and drinking bright blue cocktails from plastic fishbowls.”

      There’s a tinge of fear in her voice, which I expect is linked to the thoughts of missing out on the rite of passage that is going to university. The youngsters today all seem to go, leaving in their droves every autumn. Surely they can’t all be brainboxes?

      Even in my day things were different, and it’s not like I’m from the dark ages. Half my classmates went straight into work from school – poorly paid jobs as receptionists, barmaids, checkout girls – ordinary jobs for the ordinary people we were. There was no shame in that back then, it was the norm. How can the world have changed so much in such a short time?

      I’d worked as a waitress before having Josh, serving stone-baked pizzas and rich cannellonis in a little Italian restaurant on the high street, a family-run eatery. Every available surface had been bedecked in the traditional national colours of red, white and green. It hadn’t paid that well but had provided a bit of pocket money, enough to get by. Even now I’m hardly Deborah Meaden; I just got lucky, buying the café for a song and slowly but surely building up the business. The Lake House Café’s doing well at the moment, with café culture on the rise.

      “Who said anything about being stuck here? If you work over the summer, you’ll earn a bit of pocket money and maybe have enough to travel. You’ve said you wanted to see the world. Why not do it now while you have the chance? I always fancied getting one of those train tickets that lets you go all over Europe, packing a backpack and seeing where I ended up. Imagine what an experience that’d be! You could go to Rome…” I say dreamily. In my mind I’m drifting off on a sleeper train heading towards the Eternal City, rather than wondering if I’ve got enough plain flour in the cupboard to last the rest of the week. As much as I love my job, Rome sounds infinitely more appealing.

      Kelly, however, looks doubtful. “I don’t know. I’d have to come back sooner or later, and without a degree I’d struggle to get a job.”

      “For as long as I own this café, there’ll be a job here for you. I know it’s not much, but it’s something.” I cup my daughter’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “Just have a think about things, that’s all I’m asking. Why don’t you head off home? Fern will be here shortly, and I can manage till then.” I nod towards the café door and the sprawling green park beyond. “Go and hit those books.”

      Kelly reaches for her black leather satchel and slings it across her body. “Thanks, Mum. And I’ll think about it, the travelling.”

      I’m sure she’s only saying it to placate me, but I humour her back, leaning down and kissing the baby-soft skin of her cheek. They’re growing up fast, her and Josh. If only I could slow it down a touch before they’re gone for good, lost to significant others and the daily grind.

      “Do. There’s more to life than exams. I may not have got here by the most direct route, but I’m happier now than I’ve ever been before.” I can’t help but smile with a quiet satisfaction. “It took me the best part of forty years to achieve what I wanted, so don’t you go beating yourself up for not having your life mapped out at your age. You’ll get there soon enough. I’ve got everything I want now. It just took a bit longer than I thought it would, that’s all.”

      Kelly makes for the door. “Everything you want except a man,” she says cheekily, quickly closing the panelled door behind her whilst I stand agog, wishing I was a bit sharper.

      She’s right though. It’s the sad truth that I do wish I had a bit of male company once in a while. I don’t need a man in my life, but it’d be nice to have someone special to share the highs and lows with. There’s been no one serious since Clint, nothing more than a few paltry dates that didn’t lead to anything fulfilling. I’m only forty: surely I’ve not used up my

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