The Tutor

Chapter 26

Nora and her mother rarely talked on the phone. Most of their conversations were done via texting. But her day always started and ended with a good morning and a good night from her mother.

When they did, however, find a moment for a quick chat, that moment usually turned into a three-hour conversation.

"Well, he sounds like a really wonderful boy Nora," her mum chimed in her demure, soft voice.

"Haven't I just been telling you what an idiot he is half the time?"

"Yes, well, you say it with love. I've never heard you speak so passionately about someone. You obviously care for him, and you've done well to help him."

"I guess," Nora mumbled, her cheeks heating up. "So tell me what I can borrow from your stuff, please."

Nora's mum always had impeccable, classy style. While they were still together, Nora's father had showered her mum, Ayame, with designer bags, clothes, and jewellery. Once her mum left London, she sold most of her possessions but kept a handful of things she couldn't let go of in her grandmother's house.

Nora opened the long, multiple-shelved closet of the guest bedroom that was on the third floor that also doubled as a storage room. Nora looked over the sumptuous array of designer bags in different shapes and sizes. Smart, beautifully cut suit sets and dresses hung in a neat row, some of them protected by their designer covers.

"Honey, take whatever you need , just wear it carefully; and remember it's expensive, but then, you know that. And make sure to wrap up warm, please."

"Sure," Nora said, taking out an outfit, scanning it and putting it back in the closet.

Admittedly she felt a little rusty picking out an outfit. Magazines used to be stacked near her bedside table and she'd followed all the latest influencer accounts. Not because she genuinely liked it, but because her flaky friends did. Now that she had deleted her social media profiles and couldn't give a shit about what she wore as long as it was clean and comfortable, her mind drew a blank on outfit planning.

"Oh I have some fur-lined shoes. You must keep your feet warm Nora-chan," her mum said.

Nora was glad she wasn't face-timing so she could grimace at her mum's suggestion all she wanted.

Nope, Nora thought to herself. It would be stuffy and hot in the club. Not to mention the alcohol added extra warmth as it dilated the blood vessels, and she definitely would need a drink for Dutch courage. Socialising had become a chore for Nora.

"What about that red pencil skirt? From Prada?"

"My bum doesn't fit into it, mum." Nora needed to start thinking seriously about sports or cutting down on madeleines and croissants. The eating disorder was always like a dark shadow lingering in the back of her mind, leaving a trace of the calorie counting and self- loathing. Nora was not going back to that. But she also didn't want to have to buy new clothes because the old ones didn't fit.

Nora noticed her mum had gone quiet at the mention of sizes. She realised her mother had never known how to help Nora with her relationship with food and weight. Ayame was naturally skinny and slim and enjoyed a Japanese diet of raw fish and vegetables. She was too scared to comment any more on Nora's appetite or shape and size. It was what her mother did best, avoid problems or pretend they didn't exist, not because of her arrogance but because of immaturity. It took Nora a while to figure it out, but once she did, it was easier to forgive both of her parents for their weaknesses.

On her first attempt, she settled on her own grey suede skirt, and a peach-coloured top and borrowed her mum's expensive blazer to match the colour of the skirt. She went on to do her makeup and brush through her hair when, halfway through, she realised her outfit was looking less like a night in a bar and more like an interview at a corporate establishment. She could already hear Rafe's teasing.