Coffee going cold, Laura spread out a group of photographs on the dinner table.
They could have been happy mementos of her mum’s past, wrapped in a red ribbon, but instead were mere glimpses into what could have been if her mum had turned left instead of right.
‘It’s almost like she’s a different person,’ Laura said.
Laura picked up a small photograph and held it in her palm. With her short skirts and glitter in purple hair, her mum looked like she was ready to take on the whole world one frame at a time. Laura was pleased, that just like her, she could rebel in her teenage years.
‘Look at that hair, I don’t even know why we thought it was fashionable at the time,’ Lucy said, laughing.
‘It was the same with me, I used to sneak out in the early hours of the morning, when Mum was asleep. Steve’s parties were of the social kind – if you know what I mean.’
Laura blushed at the thought of them.
‘We did the same, but we always stuck up for each other.’
‘How old was she in this one?’ Laura pointed to an older version of Tabitha, tight curls out of control, a bubbly smile to match.
‘Seventeen, I remember when this was taken, we’d been shopping all day and were going to a party that night. I told my mum I was staying around Martha’s. She said we were sleeping around mine. We did that a lot of times, but it was all innocent really.’
‘But good fun I bet.’
‘Your mum was a great laugh.’