what’s wrong. What’s so much to deal with you can’t talk to me?”
“I—” A scream from upstairs made her jump.
“What was that?” Luca demanded.
“My mum. Look, I’ll call you back, okay?” She ended the call distractedly and hurried up the stairs. “Mum?”
Joanne was standing in Frankie’s room, the appointment letter shaking in her hands. “What is this?”
Oh shit. “Are you going through my things?” Frankie demanded, going to snatch the letter back, but Joanne swung out of the way.
“I asked you a question, Francesca! What. Is. This?”
“I have an appointment for a scan...”
“I know what this is and you only have them if you’re pregnant.”
Frankie winced. “Not necessarily.”
Joanne gave another scream. “Don’t you dare lie to my face! How could you be so fucking stupid?”
Frankie recoiled. Her mother never swore. “It’s fine, Mum.”
“How, how is this fine? You’re still living here, you’re not married, and you’ve been knocked up by some greasy bloke who’s abandoned you to do it by yourself. What a disaster! This is terrible.”
“Okay, enough now,” Frankie snapped. “I am not fifteen years old. This is manageable. I can deal with this.”
“You’re not thinking, again!” Joanne bellowed; spit flew into Frankie’s face. “You can’t look after yourself, how are you going to look after a baby?”
“To be fair, I’m sure I’ll do a better job than you,” Frankie muttered. It was the worst thing she could have said.
“People told me, they told me that if I did it by myself, my child would turn out to be just the same, just as irresponsible and thoughtless as I was.”
“Yes, you reminded me on a daily basis! God’s sake, Mum, I didn’t do it to get at you.”
Joanne collapsed onto Frankie’s bed. “What did I do to deserve this?”
Father, give me patience . “Mum, like I said, I didn’t do this on purpose. It happened. You’ve been through this, so you can help me.” It was a half-hearted suggestion, but Joanne lifted her eyes to Frankie’s and she took a step back. In her expression was nothing less than pure contempt for Frankie.
“I did my part. I did more than my part, especially after your father just left me with you. I am not doing it again.”
“I haven’t asked you for anything!”
“You’re still living here,” Joanne said, folding her arms. “And you need to leave.”
Frankie sighed. “I’m going, I just need to find another house and we’ll complete in two months.”
“No. Now. Get out of this house now. Take that abomination with you.” She nodded toward Frankie’s stomach. Without another word, Joanne got to her feet. Frankie stood in her way.
“I’ll go. But you should know something. I’m going to have this baby and I’ll do a damn good job raising it. It will be healthy and happy and more than you are ever capable of, that baby will be loved . And when my baby asks where grandma is, you know what I’m going to say? That she’s dead.”
Joanne struggled with the tears that suddenly filled her eyes, but Frankie was officially done. She left the room and Frankie started putting things into a suitcase, regretting her words, but anger staved off too much guilt. This wasn’t Teen Mom! For goodness sake, she was a grown woman! Her whole, terrible relationship with her mother was based on the fact that Frankie’s father hadn’t been interested in yet another child. Joanne was supposed to be the fun on the side, and he felt trapped and betrayed upon discovering Frankie was on the way. Her father had gone back to his wife; Joanne had no idea about her or the three children he had with that same wife, all of whom had conveniently escaped his recall when he was bedding Joanne.
Frankie never saw her father, though he habitually contacted her on her birthday by card. On Frankie’s eighteenth birthday, she’d received a card from her father and a cheque for £20,000. Good luck with everything
“I—” A scream from upstairs made her jump.
“What was that?” Luca demanded.
“My mum. Look, I’ll call you back, okay?” She ended the call distractedly and hurried up the stairs. “Mum?”
Joanne was standing in Frankie’s room, the appointment letter shaking in her hands. “What is this?”
Oh shit. “Are you going through my things?” Frankie demanded, going to snatch the letter back, but Joanne swung out of the way.
“I asked you a question, Francesca! What. Is. This?”
“I have an appointment for a scan...”
“I know what this is and you only have them if you’re pregnant.”
Frankie winced. “Not necessarily.”
Joanne gave another scream. “Don’t you dare lie to my face! How could you be so fucking stupid?”
Frankie recoiled. Her mother never swore. “It’s fine, Mum.”
“How, how is this fine? You’re still living here, you’re not married, and you’ve been knocked up by some greasy bloke who’s abandoned you to do it by yourself. What a disaster! This is terrible.”
“Okay, enough now,” Frankie snapped. “I am not fifteen years old. This is manageable. I can deal with this.”
“You’re not thinking, again!” Joanne bellowed; spit flew into Frankie’s face. “You can’t look after yourself, how are you going to look after a baby?”
“To be fair, I’m sure I’ll do a better job than you,” Frankie muttered. It was the worst thing she could have said.
“People told me, they told me that if I did it by myself, my child would turn out to be just the same, just as irresponsible and thoughtless as I was.”
“Yes, you reminded me on a daily basis! God’s sake, Mum, I didn’t do it to get at you.”
Joanne collapsed onto Frankie’s bed. “What did I do to deserve this?”
Father, give me patience . “Mum, like I said, I didn’t do this on purpose. It happened. You’ve been through this, so you can help me.” It was a half-hearted suggestion, but Joanne lifted her eyes to Frankie’s and she took a step back. In her expression was nothing less than pure contempt for Frankie.
“I did my part. I did more than my part, especially after your father just left me with you. I am not doing it again.”
“I haven’t asked you for anything!”
“You’re still living here,” Joanne said, folding her arms. “And you need to leave.”
Frankie sighed. “I’m going, I just need to find another house and we’ll complete in two months.”
“No. Now. Get out of this house now. Take that abomination with you.” She nodded toward Frankie’s stomach. Without another word, Joanne got to her feet. Frankie stood in her way.
“I’ll go. But you should know something. I’m going to have this baby and I’ll do a damn good job raising it. It will be healthy and happy and more than you are ever capable of, that baby will be loved . And when my baby asks where grandma is, you know what I’m going to say? That she’s dead.”
Joanne struggled with the tears that suddenly filled her eyes, but Frankie was officially done. She left the room and Frankie started putting things into a suitcase, regretting her words, but anger staved off too much guilt. This wasn’t Teen Mom! For goodness sake, she was a grown woman! Her whole, terrible relationship with her mother was based on the fact that Frankie’s father hadn’t been interested in yet another child. Joanne was supposed to be the fun on the side, and he felt trapped and betrayed upon discovering Frankie was on the way. Her father had gone back to his wife; Joanne had no idea about her or the three children he had with that same wife, all of whom had conveniently escaped his recall when he was bedding Joanne.
Frankie never saw her father, though he habitually contacted her on her birthday by card. On Frankie’s eighteenth birthday, she’d received a card from her father and a cheque for £20,000. Good luck with everything
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