“It’s fine! I’ll sign every single… bloody…”
My face is hot and my eyes a little blurry as I turn the pages, signing again and again without even looking at the text above. Rebecca Bloomwood. Rebecca Bloomwood.
“Well, I’m not signing it,” says Luke. “I never wanted a prenup! And I’m certainly not going to sign something I’ve never seen before in my life.”
“There. Done.” I put down my pen and pick up my bag. “I think I’ll go now. Bye, Elinor.”
“Becky—” says Luke. “Mother, what on earth possessed you to do this?”
As I head out of Elinor’s apartment my head is still pounding. I wait for the lift for a few seconds — but when it doesn’t come, head for the stairs instead. I feel shaky with fury, with mortification. She thinks I’m a gold digger.
Is that what everyone thinks?
“Becky!” Luke is coming down the stairs after me, three at a time. “Becky, wait. I’m so sorry. I had no idea…” As we reach the ground floor he envelops me in his arms and I stand there rigidly.
“Believe me. That was as much of a shock for me as it was for you.”
“Well… you know… I think you should sign it,” I say, staring at the floor. “You should protect yourself. It’s only sensible.”
“Becky. This is me. This is us.” Gently he lifts my chin until I haven’t got anywhere to look except into his dark eyes. “I know you’re angry. Of course you are. But you have to excuse my mother. She’s lived in America a long time. Prenups are standard issue here. She didn’t mean—”
“She did,” I say, feeling a fresh surge of humiliation. “That’s exactly what she meant. She thinks I’ve got some plan to… to take all your money and spend the whole lot on shoes!”
“That’s not your plan?” Luke feigns shock. “You’re telling me this now? Well, if you’re going to change the ground rules, perhaps we should have a prenup—”
I give a half-smile — but I’m still raw inside.
“I know loads of people have prenups here,” I say. “I know that. But she shouldn’t just… draw one up without consulting either of us! Do you know how she made me feel?”
“I know.” Luke strokes my back soothingly. “I’m furious with her.”
“You’re not.”
“Of course I am.”
“No, you’re not! You’re never furious with her! That’s the trouble.” I break away from his arms, trying to keep calm.
“Becky?” Luke stares at me. “Is something else wrong?”
“It’s not just this. It’s… everything! The way she’s taken over the wedding. The way she was so supercilious and horrible with my parents…”
“She’s naturally a very formal person,” says Luke defensively. “It doesn’t mean she’s trying to be supercilious. If your parents really got to know her—”
“And the way she uses you!” I know I’m on dangerous ground — but now I’ve started, I can’t stop everything pouring out. “You’ve given her hours and hours of your time. You’ve provided staff for her charity. You’ve even fallen out with Michael because of her. I just don’t understand it! You know Michael cares about you. You know he’s only got your best interests at heart. But because of your mother, you’re not even talking to him.”
Luke’s face flinches, and I can see I’ve touched a nerve.
“And now she wants us to move to this building. Don’t you see? She just wants to get her claws into you! She’ll have you running errands for her all day long, and she’ll never leave us alone… Luke, you’re already giving her so much!”
“What’s wrong with that?” Luke’s expression is gradually becoming tighter. “She’s my mother.”
“I know she is! But come on. She was never even interested in you before you became a success over here. Remember our first trip to New York? You were so desperate to impress her — and she didn’t even make the effort to see you! But now that you’ve made it here, you’ve got a name, you’ve got contacts in the media, you’ve got resources — and all of a sudden she wants to get all the credit and just use you…”
“That’s not true.”
“It is true! You just can’t see it! You’re too dazzled by her!”
“Look, Becky, it’s easy for you to criticize,” says Luke hotly. “You have a fantastic relationship with your mother. I barely saw mine when I was growing up—”
“Exactly!” I cry, before I can stop myself. “That proves my point! She didn’t give a shit about you then either!”
Oh, bugger. I shouldn’t have said that. A flash of pain passes through Luke’s eyes and suddenly he looks about ten years old.
“You know that’s not true,” he says. “My mother wanted me. It wasn’t her fault.”
“I know. I’m sorry—” I move toward him, but he jerks away.
“Put yourself in her shoes for a change, Becky. Think about what she’s gone through. Having to leave behind her child; having to put on a brave face. She’s been used to hiding her feelings for so long, no wonder her manner can be a little awkward.”
Listening to him, I almost want to cry. He’s got it all worked out. He’s still like the boy who made every excuse in the world for why his mother never came to see him.