The Honeymooners

Nineteen. Cruise ships and Pompeii

Mum puts her drink down on the side, probably for a break as her face screwed up the last couple of sips and lays back, squinting with the sun in her eyes. "Hey, you know I told you that I was having a clear out of all my clothes so I can sell them on eBay?"

"Yeah."

Mum wriggles her toes. "I can't believe how well it's selling. I've made almost seventy pounds."

I remember the text messages she was sending for tips on how to make an account and how to describe the things she wanted to sell. Now she's clearly a pro.

"That's awesome, mum. Is it all your old MaxMara stuff?"

According to mum, her wardrobe's stuck in the 80's, so she wants to freshen it up a little by treating herself to a shopping trip down Bond Street in London. I may even splurge a little on myself as I think I deserve it, and spending a large amount of money on our joint account feels like a big middle finger to Enzo.

"Yes, some girl emailed me to ask if I'd be interested in letting her bulk buy the items I had for sale for a discounted price. I thought why not and she took it all from me," she says, leaning over to pick up her Steven King novel.

She tips the book down. "I did keep one thing. It's a top your dad bought for me when we first started dating each other. I can't bear to get rid of it."

I hum. "I get it. Some things are too hard to let go. I kept a dress he bought me for my tenth birthday. We went out 'specially to buy it. It's in the Tammy Girl days. I loved it so much because he helped me choose it, making me put on a mini fashion show in the changing rooms so he could decide which dress he liked the best. In the end, he bought me them all, but the pink fairy dress as he used to call it was my favourite. I think it's so special to me because it wasn't long after that trip that we got the diagnosis of his brain tumour."

"Oh, yes, that's the trip where he was bragging about all the shop assistants eying him up," she giggles, resting her book over her belly.

My dad turned heads for sure with his six foot one build and dirty blonde hair that always stuck up in various directions because he was forever gripping his head, which looking back now was because of his constant headaches. Anywhere we went he'd have people double taking, sometimes even to the point of women tripping over their feet when they passed him in the street.

Jamie Dornan is my dad's doppelgänger. It freaks me out whenever I see him on the telly because the resemblance is quite uncanny. It's a running joke between mum and I that Jamie is my brother and they choose not to talk about it.

"You know how he loved to brag about it to everyone? Well, whenever I went places he'd always be talking about you. Even randomly, he always made sure to let people know there was only one woman for him."

"Your father was everything to me," she gives a simple smile.

I nod. "And you were everything to him. Thirty-three is so young. Why is life so cruel?"

"I was a thirty-year-old widow. I ask myself that question every day."

If I had one wish; my dad would be sitting here right now.

I'd wish so hard.

Miss you, dad.

💍💍💍

It's ten o'clock the next morning, and we're having a lazy few hours, chilling in the room before we head off to the spa. Our hair is all kinds of curly from the plaits we put in last night, forgetting to take them out before bed. It's not too bad once we slathered some serum into the crazy ends. I noticed this morning that the sun had bleached the last of the candy floss pink colour from my hair which pleases me.