The Miles Between Us

Tony’s mum lived 200 miles away, but he loved her as much as he always had . . .

HOW are you, Tony?” Tony stuck the phone between his chin and his shoulder and, picking up the sheaf of papers sitting on his desk, flicked through them to find the invoice he knew he’d put down somewhere.

“I’m good, Mum.” “You sound busy, darling. Would you rather I rang back another time?” she asked.

“No, no. It’s fine.” Finding what he was looking for, he took it over to the photocopier and slipped it under the lid. He pressed the button and watched the white light move from left to right.

“I’m a little snowed under at the moment,” he told her. “You know how it is.”

“I imagine that’s a good thing, though.” His mother had always been supportive of his work, even though she lived over 200 miles away.

“It is.”

“And Sally and the girls?” “They’re well. Sophie’s still enjoying uni and Kiera’s thinking of moving in with Ben.”

“That sounds marvellous. He’s a nice boy.”

There was the clink of china and Tony could imagine his mother settling into her chair with her tea. This wouldn’t be a quick conversation.

“I can’t remember if I told you about the new yoga class I’ve joined,” she carried on.

Tony reached over his desk for the stapler and fixed two sheets of paper together.

“No, I don’t think you did.”

While his mother talked, he manoeuvred his cursor over the screen in front of him and tried to work out what had gone wrong with the figures his assistant had given him.

Time was ticking on and he still had something he needed to check with the accounts department.

As his mother told him about the new café that had opened in the town, Jason Jackman, his partner, passed by the office.

Tony raised his hand to try to catch his attention but he didn’t see. He’d have to catch him later.

Swapping the phone to the other ear, Tony took a deep breath, feeling bad about what he was going to say.

“Look, Mum, I’m sorry. I know it’s Mother’s Day on Sunday, but I’m not going to be able to make it to Cirencester this weekend. I’ve got so much on my plate and I’m going to need the weekend to sort everything out.”

There was a moment’s pause before his mother spoke and he could imagine her twisting the telephone cable around her finger, choosing her words carefully.

“I understand, love, don’t worry. I was looking forward to seeing you, but I know what a difficult time it is for you at the moment. Things will get easier, though, I’m sure.”

“I hope so.”

He heard the hope in her voice.

“Maybe you’d like to come to stay at Easter instead when things have settled down a bit.”

A kernel of guilt seeded itself, but Tony pushed it away before it could take hold. He knew his mum understood the situation and he’d make it up to her later in the year.

“That sounds great, Mum. Of course, it will depend on what happens here.”

“Yes, of course. Look, I’ll be going now. Anyway, give my love to Sally and the girls. Don’t work too hard. I love you.”

“Love you, too, Mum.”

Tony pushed open the door of the florist’s. It was a modern one, its window displaying tall calla lilies, fronds of green fern and bright red birds of paradise.

It was opposite his office and, if he hurried, he would have just enough time to place an order before his meeting with Jason Jackman.

It was bright inside, the floor lined with metal buckets full of vivid flowers. The woman behind the counter was tying a large bouquet of sunflowers with raffia.

She looked up when she saw him.

“Can I help?”

Tony smiled.

“I’d like to send some flowers. Something bright and showy.”

“Of course.” The woman pushed a book of photographs towards him. “Have you got a price in mind?”

“I’m not bothered about the cost.” He flicked through a few photographs. “Maybe something like this?”

“That will be expensive. The flowers aren’t in season.”

“That’s all right. I just need to be sure they’ll arrive by Mother’s Day.”

The woman took his details and he fed his credit card into the machine.

By the time he arrived back in his office his conscience was eased.

“Sally?”

The house was empty but Tony could see that his wife had been in as her work jacket was hanging on the back of the chair.

Walking over to the large patio windows, he saw Sally down at the end of the garden, a pair of secateurs in her hand. Above the trees, the early evening sky was tinged with orange.

He slid open the doors and was going to call to her but thought better of it. Instead, he stepped out on to the patio and crossed the grass.

When he reached her, Sally straightened up. He bent to kiss her. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“I thought I’d pick a few of these.” A sheaf of daffodils lay on the grass. “Mum’s favourite.” Tony smiled. “Mine, too. Oh, before I forget. I’ve told my mother I’ve got to cancel this weekend. There’s too much on. I feel bad about it, but it’s just the way it is.”

“And how did she take it?”

“She understands.”

His wife didn’t answer and he was surprised. He had expected some sort of comment, but instead she just ran a finger over one of the yellow trumpets of the daffodils.

“It’s a beautiful evening. I thought I’d take a walk before it gets dark. Do you want to come?”

For the last few weeks Tony had taken work home with him, but there was something about the evening that made him want to forget the computer for a while.

“I’ll come.” He looked down at his suit. “I’d better change first.”

She smiled. “You’re fine as you are. On the way back, I thought we might visit Mum.”

“You don’t want to wait until Sunday?”

She shook her head. “I don’t need a special day to see her.”

She linked her arm through his, and they walked back across the lawn.

When they got inside, she gave his arm a squeeze.

“I’m glad you’re coming with me.”

“I am, too. I’ve spent too long today in front of a computer screen.”

Tony lifted Sally’s coat from the back of the chair and held it out to her, then pointed to the daffodils she’d left on the table. “Don’t forget those.” “Oh, they’re not for Mum, Tony.”

Picking them up, she took them over to the sink. She ran some cold water and placed them in it.

“I’ll put them in a vase when we get back.”

It had been a lovely walk. Just what he’d needed to blow the cobwebs away after a week at the office.

He and Sally were sitting in the park on a bench overlooking the boating lake. The evening light was sending long shadows across the grass and the only sound was the caw of the rooks in the trees above them.

“Did I tell you this park was where I learned to walk?”

Tony squeezed her hand. “I don’t think you did.” “I don’t remember, of course, but Mum told me we’d come here for a picnic and while she was unwrapping the sandwiches I just got up and toddled off.”

He laughed.

“You always were wilful.” “And that,” Sally said, pointing to the bandstand, silhouetted black against the rose and orange sky, “is where we used to go on Sunday afternoons, even in winter. Sometimes the Salvation Army band would be playing, but when they weren’t I would climb up there and put on a show for her.”

“It’s nice that you still live in the town where you grew up,” Tony replied.

He had moved away from Cirencester when he’d started university and had never moved back. “Why do you say that?” “You’ve always had your family near you. It’s got to make you closer.”

“Love isn’t something that you can measure in miles, Tony.”

They got up from the bench and when Sally offered her hand he took it. She was right. The distance between them didn’t make him love his mother any less.

They walked along the path towards the exit. When they reached the road, he stopped and smiled.

“Shall we visit your mum now?”

“Yes, I’d like that.”

It was getting darker and, although the sky was still blue, a pale crescent moon had risen above the trees.

They crossed the road and headed towards the tall, red-bricked building on the corner of the street. A long wall separated it from the road.

When they reached the gate in the long wall, Tony bent to lift the latch. He held it open for Sally, watching her face as she walked past him.

He followed her in, the gate clicking shut behind them, and what he saw in front of him made him catch his breath.

In the soft evening light, pale heads of daffodils nodded between the gravestones. Hundreds of them.

Sally smiled.

“Now you see why we didn’t need to bring any.”

She walked a little way down the gravelled path and stopped beside one of the headstones. Tony stood beside her, his arm around her shoulders.

“Tell me something you remember from your childhood, Tony,” Sally said, resting her head against his chest.

Tony closed his eyes. His mother was there, tired after a day at work. She was making his supper and reading him a story before the babysitter arrived so that she could do an evening shift at the pub.

He saw her going without so that he could have the new trainers he wanted. He saw her brave face as he left home – her job done.

“I remember how she always put me first. She was always there for me.”

Sally traced the letters of her mother’s name with her finger.

“Do you know my greatest wish?”

Tony shook his head. “I wish that Mum and I had had more time together.” She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. “Please don’t let that be what you think, too, Tony.”

She reached up and touched a tear that had spilled down his cheek unchecked, and in that moment, Tony knew why she had brought him there. “I won’t.”

He took out his phone and punched the buttons. At the sound of his mother’s voice, he felt his heart give a lurch.

“How are you, Tony? There’s nothing wrong, is there?” his mother asked worriedly.

“I’m good, Mum. I just wanted to check you still like daffodils.”

“I do, dear, but why do you ask?”

Tony smiled. As soon as he got home, he’d go online and cancel the order for the flowers.

They were bright and expensive, but he wouldn’t be needing them now. n