would you mind not using your phone at the table, please?’ Hannah asked before she had the chance to look at it.
Mia turned bright red and shoved the mobile back into her pocket without a word, staring down at her plate. A moment later Hannah noticed tears trickling down her cheeks, which made her feel awful.
‘There’s no need to get upset, Mia,’ she said in a gentle voice. Part of her wanted to reach out and squeeze her niece’s hand or similar, but it felt like the wrong thing to do in the circumstances, like she would be overstepping boundaries. ‘I’m sorry if I sounded like I was snapping at you. If it makes you feel any better, I’d have said exactly the same thing to Mark, had he taken his mobile out during a meal. It’s a pet hate of mine. Everyone’s glued to their phones enough as it is, rather than talking to the people around them. So under this roof mealtimes are a phone-free zone, I’m afraid.’
Mia continued to look down at the table in silence. She refused to meet her aunt’s eye while painstakingly peeling the shell off her egg. Finally she placed it on her buttered toast, slicing it up and spreading it out.
The sight tickled Hannah, who recalled Diane switching to eating a boiled egg like this in her late teens, having picked up the method from a boyfriend. Previously, she’d always cut off the top and dipped soldiers inside or scooped out the contents, as they’d learned at home. As far back as Hannah could remember, if a chance had ever presented itself to do things differently – particularly from the rest of the family – her sister had always jumped at it. Classic Diane.
Hannah wondered if Mia was the same way. She’d not known her long enough yet to be able to tell.
After a short period of listening to the radio and eating in silence, allowing Mia time to get over the phone incident, Hannah decided to try to make fresh conversation. ‘So is there anything you particularly fancy doing today, Mia?’
‘Not really.’
‘Well, as you must have noticed, it’s not very nice weather this morning. And according to the forecast, there’s little chance of any improvement later on. In other words, we’re probably best doing something indoors.’
Mia nodded, keeping her eyes on her plate and the food she’d been poking and prodding with her cutlery more than eating.
‘There are several nice art galleries and museums nearby, but … well, I’ve honestly got no idea whether that’s the kind of thing you would enjoy doing or not. I wouldn’t want to drag you around somewhere you’d find boring.’
There was a long pause before Mia replied. ‘I, er, I’m not actually feeling that well. My stomach hurts. I think I might be starting my period.’
This threw Hannah somewhat, as it was a long way from the response she’d expected. Despite the evidence right in front of her, she still hadn’t got used to Mia being fourteen. Mind you, it wasn’t like she’d had any preparation for this. Until a few days ago, the only Mia she knew – apart from the odd photo she’d spotted at her dad’s house over the years – was the pre-schooler she’d been when Diane moved her away.
‘I see,’ she replied. ‘Sorry to hear that. Do you, um, have everything you need: tampons, pads, paracetamol, perhaps? Because if not, I can always—’
‘I’m fine,’ Mia said. ‘But can I chill in my room for a bit and read my book?’
‘Of course. That’s fine. I thought you’d want to be out and about, rather than stuck here with me, but if that’s how you’re feeling, I understand. I’ve had my fair share of period pains over the years. Why not take it easy this morning and then see how you feel later on?’
Mia nodded, looking teary again all of a sudden.
Oh dear, Hannah thought. Surely she wasn’t still upset about the mobile phone reprimand. Unless she was afraid Hannah might confiscate it, as her mum had the other day. She could understand how that might be a scary prospect for a young teenager staying with people she barely knew, miles away from home.
‘Are you all right?’ she asked. ‘You’re not still upset about what I said earlier, are you? There’s no need to be. I’m not cross, particularly as you put it away so quickly.’
‘It’s just … I thought it might be Mum at last.’
‘Oh, right. I see. Haven’t you heard from her today?’
Mia shook her head. ‘Not since Saturday evening when she sent me a text to say she’d got home.’
‘Oh dear.’
I’ve sent her a few messages since then and I’ve tried to call her, but she’s not answered.’
‘Right. Well, I’m sure there’s a good explanation. She’s probably busy. She said she had a few things to do while you were staying with us, so that’s most likely it.’
Hannah eyed the food in front of her niece, which she’d barely touched, and then looked down at her own plate, which was empty save for a few crumbs. She helped herself to another piece of toast, which was cold now, and slapped on some butter and marmalade. This was as much about giving her something to do with her hands as it was about still being hungry.
She cut the toast into two triangles and, before taking a bite, asked: ‘Aren’t you feeling hungry?’
Mia said not, sliding her plate forward on the table to emphasise she was done and then nursing her coffee.
Seeing her niece so downhearted proved too much for Hannah. ‘Listen,’ she said. ‘I can waive the no-phones rule this once, seeing as it’s obviously upsetting you not knowing if it’s your mum or not. Go ahead and have a look.’
Mia’s face instantly brightened, only to sour again after she pulled out her mobile and read the message.
‘What’s wrong?’ Hannah asked.
Mia shook her head, slipping the phone back into her pocket. ‘It’s not from Mum. It’s one of my friends.’
‘Never mind. I’ll try and get hold of her later, if you like. Is there anything in particular you need to ask her?’
She hesitated, frowning and scratching her head before continuing. ‘I, um, was wondering when she was coming back for me. She did say it would only be a few days.’
Hannah couldn’t help feeling dismayed by this, although she did her best to hide the fact by smiling and nodding. ‘Of course. I totally understand. I was your age once. It’s only normal that you’d rather be at home with your friends and so on than here with us.’
Later, when Mia had returned to her bedroom and Hannah was in the lounge, glad of a break from struggling to make conversation, she pondered Diane’s lack of contact with her daughter.
It was odd she hadn’t been returning Mia’s calls and messages, especially after leaving her alone here with a strange aunt and uncle. What was Diane up to?
Hannah stared at her number: the latest entry in her smartphone’s long list of contacts. The last time Diane had featured would have been on a much simpler device – something clunky by modern standards, with a rubbish camera. The world of technology had moved on a lot in the years they’d been apart, as
