You've Only Got My Heart on a String

Chapter 21: Something Special for You

Sasha's mother had an uneven edge to her voice, betraying her irritation. "You could've called sooner! Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, Mum, I'm fine. I've had a lot going on. It's finals week, and I'm just back home from a weekend away. I was in Sussex. Sorry it's been so long." Sasha thought about reminding her mother that the telephone lines worked in both directions, but thought better of it. She had steeled herself before she dialed and was ready to weather the storm. It would be counterproductive to introduce any negativity of her own at the onset.

Then Sasha thought she heard the line grow still, as if her mother had turned the television off in the background.

Her mother exhaled loudly. "Hmph. I'm allowed to worry, mothers do. I'm glad you're okay."

"I'm sorry, Mum. How are you?"

"Everything's fine. How are finals?"

"All's well, I think." Sasha grabbed a clean rag from a drawer and started dusting the nooks and crannies in the kitchen. She might as well get something done instead of fidgeting aimlessly while they talked.

"And Sussex? What brought you there?"

"Paul took me to see his farm." Sasha braced herself. Here we go.

Sure enough, Sasha's mother suddenly coughed, attempted to speak, then coughed while she tried to apologise for coughing, before catching her breath and managing to say, "Mr. McCartney?..."

Her mother's startled reaction and her use of Paul's surname somehow brought to mind busybody characters in historical romance novels. Sasha smiled at the ridiculousness of that thought. She waited for a few moments, picturing her mother wearing a Regency era bonnet. "Yes, Mum," Sasha replied brightly, once her mother had recovered. "McCartney. That's my Paul!"

"I see!"

"Yeah."

"So... You've been with him this long? That's... unexpected. Uh, I don't mean... That is to say... Sorry, dear, I'm not sure what I mean to say."

Sasha smiled to herself again. "It's okay, Mum. The... uh, duration of the relationship took me by surprise at first too. He's got it all thought out, it seems. Looking to the future, you know."

Sasha's mother cleared her throat. "I see. Then he has good taste I suppose. Although his judgement, that's another matter... Lord, you're not even twenty-five yet! How old is he again?"

Sasha took a deep breath as she swept the rag over the shelves above her sink. "Still forty-five. But it doesn't matter, believe me. He worries about our age difference but there's no need."

"That's sensible of him at least."

Maybe you two could bond over that shared opinion, Sasha thought, setting her little fruit basket back in its place after dusting behind it.

"And what of his fiance? The wealthy American, wasn't she?"

Aha, so Mum had heard about the article. "It's over. They were engaged, but it was a long time ago. Years ago."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. There was a tabloid story out recently. I don't know if that's where you heard about it, but you should know that the whole thing was full of lies. That's what tabloids are for, isn't it?"

"Hmm. I guess that's right."

"In this case, we know for certain they're lying."

"You think he's told you the whole truth then." Her mother said this as a statement.