Rebecca Smith - More Than Just Mum

‘But you’d like to have a girlfriend, wouldn’t you?’ says Scarlet, resting her chin on her hands. ‘And fortunately for you, my Instagram stalking would suggest that Zoe is currently boyfriendless and looking for luuuurve .’

‘You are a hideous sister,’ Dylan tells her, but I can see that he’s keen to hear more.

‘I’m never going to get married,’ Benji informs us while attempting to surreptitiously feed the rest of his sausage to Dogger. Clearly my youngest child does not have a future in espionage. ‘And I’m definitely not having any kids.’

This distracts my attention from the Zoe situation for a second.

‘Why not, darling?’ I ask. ‘Having children is wonderful and fulfilling and life-affirming and …’ I trail off, aware that all other conversation has ceased.

‘Are you kidding us?’ says Scarlet. ‘You’re constantly knackered and you’re always saying that you’ve got no money because we’re so expensive.’

‘Well, yes, but you see, that’s all—’

‘And you and Dad are always talking about the holidays you could have if it was just the two of you,’ adds Dylan. ‘You could be going to Mauritius this summer and not having two weeks camping in France.’

Scarlet shudders. ‘God. It’s a no-brainer. Dirty nappies and crying babies and never losing your baby belly. I’m never having kids.’

I instinctively suck in my tummy. ‘Those things are true, but—’

‘I’m going to live with Logan,’ Benji tells us. ‘We’re going to live in this house and go to work on quad bikes and play on the Xbox and eat pizza every night.’

‘Are you both going to live with Dad and me?’ I smile, momentarily warmed by my youngest child. ‘That’ll be nice.’

He loads up his fork and rams it into his mouth.

‘No. You’ll both be dead by then,’ he mumbles through a mouthful of masticated beans, which takes the wind out of my sails just a little bit.

‘I don’t even know why you had kids,’ says Scarlet. ‘I’ve seen photos of you from before and you look way younger.’

‘That’s because I was way younger,’ I retort. ‘And people get older regardless of whether they’ve had kids or not.’

‘It’s not the same though, is it?’ Scarlet is on a roll. ‘Like, you’re always moaning that you’ve lost all sense of your own identity and that you have no time for yourself.’

‘I’m not,’ I protest feebly.

I am.

‘Okay.’ Scarlet raises her eyebrows at me. ‘So that wasn’t you earlier, telling Jennifer Aniston to piss off?’

‘Who is Jennifer Aniston and why were you telling her to piss off, Mum?’ asks Benji. ‘That was a bit rude of you.’

‘Language!’ I say automatically. ‘And I didn’t tell Jennifer Aniston to piss off.’

‘You did!’ crows Scarlet. ‘I heard you! You were on your laptop and Jennifer Aniston was on the screen, going on about how important it is to have some “me time” every day and you said, “Oh, piss off, Jennifer Aniston and get back to me about ‘me time’ when you’ve spent all day sprinting around after other people.” Or something like that.’

‘I’d rather have a dog than a kid,’ says Dylan. We all automatically look at Dogger who, embarrassed by the attention, starts licking her vagina.

‘Well, at least none of you guys ever tried to do that ,’ I gesture towards her. ‘Although Benji did once manage to wee in his own ear when he was a baby.’ I remember exhaustedly cleaning him up at three o’clock in the morning and trying to sob silently so that he’d go back to sleep. Happy times.

Scarlet smirks smugly. ‘I bet I never did anything as disgusting as the boys, did I, Mum?’

I smile back at her. ‘Oh, sweetheart. I don’t think a mealtime is the right occasion to talk about all the foul things that you got up to when you were little.’ I pause. ‘And also, not so little.’

Dylan and Benji laugh and Scarlet pulls a face at them.

‘So, are you going to ask Zoe out, then?’ she asks Dylan, retreating to safer ground.

‘None of your business,’ he snarls. ‘And if I were you, I’d be too busy worrying about the identity of my mystery online boyfriend to be bothered with my brother’s love life.’

‘What mystery online boyfriend?’ I ask.

‘So you’re admitting that you have a love life!’ screeches Scarlet. ‘Ha! A loveless life, more like it.’

‘So you’re not denying that he exists, then?’ returns Dylan.

‘ What mystery online boyfriend?’ I repeat, louder this time. ‘Will someone please tell me what you’re talking about?’

‘Scarlet’s got a boyfriend but she’s only met him online,’ says Dylan, not breaking eye contact with his sister.

‘He’s just a friend and it’s nothing to worry about,’ Scarlet says, glaring back at him.

‘Nothing to worry about as long as he isn’t actually a fifty-six-year-old weirdo, you mean?’ Dylan grins at her.

‘Scarlet?’ I tap my hand on the table to get her attention. ‘Who is this person? Is he actually fifty-six? Because you are aware that would not actually be okay?’

Scarlet gives Dylan a withering look, which manages to concisely convey that she will be having words with him at a later date, before turning to me and putting on her reassuring face, which only serves to make me more wary.

‘He’s a friend of a friend and he’s not fifty-six, Mum. He’s sixteen and he lives in the Czech Republic and he’s totally fine.’

I frown. ‘And you know this how ?’

Scarlet sighs dramatically. ‘Because I’ve seen photos of him and he’s a teenager, not a pervy old man.’

‘What does “pervy” mean?’ asks Benji.

‘She said nervy,’ I tell him. ‘Pervy’ does not feel like a word that should be in a ten-year-old’s vocabulary and the last thing I want is a phone call from the school, complaining about his language. ‘Go on, Scarlet.’

‘I’ll show you his photo,’ she says. ‘Then you can chill.’

‘I want to see your conversations. So that I know he isn’t being inappropriate.’

And also, so that I know that you aren’t engaging in sexting or nudes or anything else terrifying.

Scarlet’s face wrinkles up. ‘That’s an invasion of my privacy,’ she complains. ‘Those conversations are private.’

I eyeball her. ‘There’s no such thing as private on the Internet, you know that. The government can read anything you write online.’

‘God,’ she groans. ‘No wonder our country is in such a mess, if politicians are spending all their time snooping at my emails and messages instead of actually doing stuff.’

‘We’ll discuss this again later,’ I assure her, gathering up the plates. ‘Now, who wants some pudding? We’ve got apples and bananas.’

‘An apple is not a pudding,’ complains Dylan. ‘I need more than that if I’m going to keep my energy up.’

‘And he does need a lot of energy,’ Scarlet agrees. ‘If he’s going to be pursuing the lovely Zoe.’

It never ceases, their enthusiasm for winding each other up.

I think about the worries that are stacking up in my brain, like jumbo jets circling to land at Heathrow airport. Dylan and his potential girlfriend. Scarlet’s online liaison with a stranger. Benji’s insistence that he won’t ever be having children, which makes me question whether Nick and I have done such a terrible job of parenting that it’s the last thing that they want to do with their lives.

I think about all the conversations that I need to have with my offspring and I bitterly regret my decision to be self-righteous and virtuous and not drink during the school week.