That Girl From Nowhere Read Online Free

conversation where I asked her to move in with me. That’s how she tells it to anyone who’ll listen – she even tells that to me and I was there for the conversation.
‘Clemency was moving and she couldn’t do it on her own, so she asked me to come with her. She’s my only child, so I couldn’t say no.’
What really happened was this:
    ‘Mum, I know the timing could be better but I’m moving. I’ve got one more week to complete at work and then I’m going to tie up everything here and move to Brighton. Well, Hove, actually. That’s where the flat I’ve found is. It’s near enough to Brighton. I’ve got a workshop down there, too.’ I decided to tell Mum I’d also got a shop space another time – too much information gave her too much to worry about and too much to mither me about.
    ‘Oh, that sounds like a fantastic idea, Clemency. I’ll get your uncle Colin to look after the house and I’ll come with you. Thank you for suggesting it.’
    ‘What?’ I replied.
    ‘Don’t say, “what”.’
    ‘Wha— I don’t understand what you’ve just said.’
    ‘Or maybe Nancy and Sienna could move in?’ she said to herself. ‘They’ll need a bigger space, I won’t need to charge them rent and they’re family so I know they’ll take care of the place. Or maybe I shouldn’t involve family? Maybe I should just look at renting it out through an agency.’
    ‘What are you saying to me, Mother?’
    ‘Your uncle Colin can help out. When are you going?’
    ‘Two weeks.’
    ‘Perfect. That’s plenty of time to pack and have an estate agent value the place with a view to selling or renting.’
    ‘But I’m moving on my own.’ (I’m still not sure if I said that out loud.)
    ‘This is perfect, Clemency. I won’t take up much space. Just my photographs and personal belongings and clothes. I was wondering what I would do with myself now. I don’t want to be here any more. Too many memories, especially from the last few months. But you’ve solved that problem for me.’
     
    And created a whole world of problems for me. Mum and me in confined spaces, with nothing much to do … It is a bad combination.
    ‘Clemency? Is that you?’ Mum calls. I heft the first box through the front door. There are eighty-seven steps and three sets of doors between Lottie and this flat. I only noticed that while wrestling my way here with this box labelled ‘Tools’.
    ‘Who else is it going to be?’ I call back.
    ‘A simple “yes” will suffice,’ she replies.
    ‘What is it that you want, Mum?’ I ask. Down the long wide corridor with large block, parquet flooring in a rich honey-coloured wood, I follow the sound of Mum’s voice until I find her, in the second bedroom. Her bedroom. This was going to be my work-at-home place. It didn’t have the sea views of the other rooms, but it had an en suite shower and loo, space for a desk as well as a (guest) bed and, most importantly, a large amount of wall space to pin up my designs and have a shelving unit to keep all the tools and materials – wire, beads, findings, bottle tops, trays, glues, resins, cords, etc., etc., etc. – I used at home.
    ‘Yes, Mum?’ I say. ‘How can I help you?’ I have sprinkled positivity, the type of sunshine drenching the outside world, into my voice because this is all going to work out. Everything is going to be fine. To make sure it is, I need to stay positive no matter what is sent to try me.
    ‘This room is going to be fine for me,’ she says.
    ‘That’s great,’ I say.
    ‘There isn’t much natural light, though,’ she adds, in case I get too comfortable with doing something almost right.
    ‘I know. This side of the building overlooks the internal courtyard and because there are other parts of the building on all four sides, not much light comes in. Sorry.’
    ‘That’s OK,’ she says.
    Mum has eyes that are so blue they appear translucent in certain lights. When I was younger I was convinced she could use her eyes to