Coopers’ ample cleavage, I felt like I’d got it at last. I was home. Since then I’ve realized that my family’s love was always there. It still lay a heartbeat away. I just didn’t get close enough to hear it.
FF>> 26/09/01>
I’m standing nervously on Ryan’s parents’ doorstep in the salubrious street in Marine Parade, a.k.a the rich part of Leigh-on-Sea. The house is an impressive double-fronted, Edwardian detached property with a huge stone driveway and two big stone lions guarding the front door. There’s even a fountain in front of the house. No wonder he still lives at home. He’s probably got his own wing . This is not at all what I expected. Suddenly I am petrified. My finger is hovering over the bell as I summon up the courage to press it, silently cursing my boyfriend of a week. I mean, what was he thinking asking me here already? And what was I thinking saying yes?
I press the doorbell and take a deep breath. I feel completely inappropriately dressed. I refused to ditch my Converse when Freya the fashion editor tried to get me to wear some heels. However, I did concede to ditching my parka for this grey funnel-neck coat. I muss up my fringe so it covers my eyes a little, throw my shoulders back, adjust my bra and wipe my hands on my jeans. On the advice of Lisa, the beauty editor and my desk buddy from work, who is determined to get me out of my make-up rut, I’ve slightly femmed up my overall look by ditching the heavy kohl and I’m all pink-glossed lips and blushed cheeks. When I left my flat I thought I almost looked pretty but now I realize I just look stupid. I wish I’d just been me, but more than that I wish I’d said no to Ryan when he asked me to come.
I hear someone walking towards the door. This is madness . I’m about to turn and walk back down the front path when the door swings open and a vision of glamour with bleached blonde hair wearing a Juicy Couture tracksuit opens the door. She looks more LA than Leigh-on-Sea.
‘Molly? Hiya! I’m Jackie, Ryan’s mum. I’m so glad to finally meet you, darlin’!’ She throws her arms out and envelops me in a hug.
Finally? I’ve only been seeing your son for a week!
Molly?’ she repeats, pulling back with a dazzling white but warm smile. ‘Come in, darlin!’ Don’t be standing there on the doorstep, you make the place look messy!’
She laughs as she ushers me in, the gold of her watch face and Tiffany heart-locket necklace glowing like the sun.
I look around the hallway, desperately hoping Ryan will appear when Jackie spontaneously envelops me in another highly perfumed hug. Isn’t this how boa constrictors kill their prey? Just when I think I might pass out, she pulls away but holds on to me tightly at arm’s-length and studies me appraisingly. I slide my eyes to the left and right to see if I can see any sign of Ryan in my peripheral vision. Just then she lets me go and I resist the urge to rub my arms.
‘Now, darlin’,’ she smiles as she heads towards the giant staircase, ‘you have to excuse me still being in me slopsies!’ She gestures at her pink tracksuit. ‘I’ve just been throwing some lunch together and now I’m going to put some make-up on . . . ’
She looks like this without make-up?
‘ . . . get dressed and come back downstairs.’ And she disappears up the stairs, calling, ‘Make yourself at home, darlin’!’
I gaze around me. Where the hell is Ryan – well, apart from emblazoned all over the walls? Everywhere I look there are huge portraits of the family. There are several of Ryan’s mum and dad with their arms wrapped round each other, in one they look like they’re actually French kissing. Then there’s Carl and Ryan photographed through the years. In the hallway are gigantic blown-up studio prints of each of them as babies, naked and sitting on a shag-pile like something from an Athena poster. There’s a cute one of Ryan as a toddler on the beach in his wetsuit standing next to Carl.
FF>> 26/09/01>
I’m standing nervously on Ryan’s parents’ doorstep in the salubrious street in Marine Parade, a.k.a the rich part of Leigh-on-Sea. The house is an impressive double-fronted, Edwardian detached property with a huge stone driveway and two big stone lions guarding the front door. There’s even a fountain in front of the house. No wonder he still lives at home. He’s probably got his own wing . This is not at all what I expected. Suddenly I am petrified. My finger is hovering over the bell as I summon up the courage to press it, silently cursing my boyfriend of a week. I mean, what was he thinking asking me here already? And what was I thinking saying yes?
I press the doorbell and take a deep breath. I feel completely inappropriately dressed. I refused to ditch my Converse when Freya the fashion editor tried to get me to wear some heels. However, I did concede to ditching my parka for this grey funnel-neck coat. I muss up my fringe so it covers my eyes a little, throw my shoulders back, adjust my bra and wipe my hands on my jeans. On the advice of Lisa, the beauty editor and my desk buddy from work, who is determined to get me out of my make-up rut, I’ve slightly femmed up my overall look by ditching the heavy kohl and I’m all pink-glossed lips and blushed cheeks. When I left my flat I thought I almost looked pretty but now I realize I just look stupid. I wish I’d just been me, but more than that I wish I’d said no to Ryan when he asked me to come.
I hear someone walking towards the door. This is madness . I’m about to turn and walk back down the front path when the door swings open and a vision of glamour with bleached blonde hair wearing a Juicy Couture tracksuit opens the door. She looks more LA than Leigh-on-Sea.
‘Molly? Hiya! I’m Jackie, Ryan’s mum. I’m so glad to finally meet you, darlin’!’ She throws her arms out and envelops me in a hug.
Finally? I’ve only been seeing your son for a week!
Molly?’ she repeats, pulling back with a dazzling white but warm smile. ‘Come in, darlin!’ Don’t be standing there on the doorstep, you make the place look messy!’
She laughs as she ushers me in, the gold of her watch face and Tiffany heart-locket necklace glowing like the sun.
I look around the hallway, desperately hoping Ryan will appear when Jackie spontaneously envelops me in another highly perfumed hug. Isn’t this how boa constrictors kill their prey? Just when I think I might pass out, she pulls away but holds on to me tightly at arm’s-length and studies me appraisingly. I slide my eyes to the left and right to see if I can see any sign of Ryan in my peripheral vision. Just then she lets me go and I resist the urge to rub my arms.
‘Now, darlin’,’ she smiles as she heads towards the giant staircase, ‘you have to excuse me still being in me slopsies!’ She gestures at her pink tracksuit. ‘I’ve just been throwing some lunch together and now I’m going to put some make-up on . . . ’
She looks like this without make-up?
‘ . . . get dressed and come back downstairs.’ And she disappears up the stairs, calling, ‘Make yourself at home, darlin’!’
I gaze around me. Where the hell is Ryan – well, apart from emblazoned all over the walls? Everywhere I look there are huge portraits of the family. There are several of Ryan’s mum and dad with their arms wrapped round each other, in one they look like they’re actually French kissing. Then there’s Carl and Ryan photographed through the years. In the hallway are gigantic blown-up studio prints of each of them as babies, naked and sitting on a shag-pile like something from an Athena poster. There’s a cute one of Ryan as a toddler on the beach in his wetsuit standing next to Carl.
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