Right Here Waiting for You: A brilliant laugh out loud romantic comedy. Rebecca Pugh

if not her entire life. Esther’s giggle floated through to the kitchen, mingling with a theme tune Sophia hummed along to without even having to think about it. She knew them all, she’d heard them that many times. With her first cup of coffee of the day placed beside her on the small end table, Sophia sat down and eyed the back of her daughter’s head from across the room.

      ‘Come on then. Let’s get ready for a lovely day at school.’ Sophia clapped her hands in a businesslike manner and picked up the hairbrush she’d brought through from the kitchen. Esther didn’t move. Sophia glared at the smiley-faced cartoon characters on-screen who seemed to do a much better job of capturing and keeping her daughter’s attention than she ever could. ‘Esther? Come on, sweetheart. We haven’t got long until the school bell rings and you’re not even out of your pyjamas yet.’ Her attempts were again met with silence.

      She was beginning to reach the end of her tether just lately. It seemed her daughter didn’t want to listen to a thing she said. Sophia was trying her best to remain upbeat and positive, but the cheery act she often put on was beginning to wear thin. She was tired, drained of all energy, and would have given anything for a full night’s sleep or just a hot bath in peace. Esther only seemed to have two moods. She would either cling to her mother’s side like a limpet or, as was the case this morning, simply refuse to acknowledge Sophia was even there.

      Sophia rubbed at her eyes, still crusty with sleep. ‘Come on, darling. I need to brush your hair and get you into your uniform.’ She held up the small burgundy cardigan and made it perform a little dance in the air. She wasn’t sure why. Perhaps in the hopes that a dancing cardigan would entice her daughter to put the bloody thing on.

      ‘Five more minutes,’ whined Esther, still glued to the TV screen.

      Sophia closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘No, Esther. I need you to come and get dressed right now, otherwise you’re going to be late again, and that will be the second time this week. Do you think Mrs Harvey is going to be happy if you’re late?’

      Esther glanced over her shoulder but only for a second. The thought of upsetting her favourite teacher seemed to be the only thing with the power to shift her from her cross-legged position on the carpet. But it wouldn’t do to rush so Esther dawdled lazily towards her mother while performing an exaggerated yawn.

      ‘Good. Now we’re getting somewhere. Turn around so I can quickly brush your hair.’ Sophia looked at the tangled mess and gulped. ‘This might hurt, sweetheart, but I’ll try to be as gentle as I can, okay?’ Eventually, Sophia managed to brush Esther’s hair into a high ponytail and patted her on the bottom as her daughter put on her shoes. Sophia gulped down the last dregs of her coffee, wishing for an instant refill, before quickly brushing her own hair and nipping to the toilet. Afterwards, she tugged on her coat and prepared to leave, with Esther dragging her feet behind her.

      ‘See?’ Sophia sang, as she stepped out of the front door and locked it behind them. She deposited the keys in her coat pocket and felt triumphant that they wouldn’t be late after all. ‘That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now you’ll be on time and Mrs Harvey will be very happy. Come on then, let’s get down the road and into… Oh, my God…’ Sophia stumbled backwards and grabbed the fence that separated their garden from next door’s. ‘Esther, what have you done?’

      Esther grinned. ‘It’s make-up.’ She twirled on the spot and fluttered her lashes. If Sophia hadn’t been so shocked she would have laughed but, as it was, she wasn’t amused in the slightest. ‘Do you like it?’ asked Esther, ignoring her mother’s stricken expression.

      Sophia gathered herself and closed her eyes. She tried to keep her voice level. ‘Where did you find the make-up, Esther?’ Her eyes remained shut as she pinched the bridge of her nose. Sophia had taken to shutting her make-up bag away on the top shelf of her wardrobe because this wasn’t the first time Esther had painted her face with her mother’s make-up. How on earth had she managed to get hold of it this time?

      ‘In your bedroom,’ replied Esther, looking pleased with herself. ‘I got the stool and climbed up. Why do you put it so high? It’s silly.’

      ‘I can’t believe it. I take my eyes off you for five seconds just so I can have a wee and you’ve managed to do this to yourself. You know we’re going to be late now, don’t you? What is that?’ She bent down, licked the tip of her thumb and tried to rub away the vivid red smudges from her daughter’s eyelids. The rubbing only seemed to make it worse. ‘Have you… have you put lipstick on your eyelids?’ she whispered, leaning down to get a closer look.

      ‘It looks nice,’ Esther said stubbornly, turning away from Sophia’s close inspection. She frowned fiercely and her little eyebrows furrowed, as if she’d just been insulted.

      ‘Absolutely un-bloody-believable. We’re going to have to go back inside and try to wash this lot off your face now, aren’t we?’

      ‘Mum,’ Esther squeaked. ‘Swearing is naughty. That’s what you said. Bloody is a bad word.’

      Sophia hustled her daughter back into the house as beads of sweat began to form beneath her too-long fringe. ‘I know and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that, it just slipped out. Please don’t repeat it because you’re right, it’s a naughty word. Come on, up the stairs and into the bathroom, please. I’d better give the school a ring to let them know what’s happened. Wait for me, Esther, and don’t touch anything! Do you understand me? Not a single thing. I’ll be five minutes.’

      As Esther bounded up the stairs, filled with glee at her makeover, Sophia held her mobile to her ear and waited for Rosie, the school receptionist, to answer. Thankfully, Rosie was understanding and even found the tale rather funny, tittering to herself.

      ‘You would think it’s funny,’ Sophia huffed once the call had ended. She trudged her way up the stairs feeling exhausted. It wasn’t even nine o’clock yet. ‘It’s not you who has to bloody put up with it.’

      Although Sophia had managed to scrub most of the make-up off her daughter’s face, by the time they left the house for the second time that morning, a faint redness bloomed on and above Esther’s eyelids where the lipstick remained and refused to budge. Sophia ushered her book-bag-holding, cardigan-wearing daughter up the road, past the local swimming centre and over the zebra crossing until the school gates came into view and they hurried through them. She felt ready to collapse by the time she delivered Esther to her classroom, red-cheeked and eyes streaming from the cold wind whistling outside. Today was her day off from her part-time job in the post office, and she couldn’t wait to get back home and into the warmth. How was it possible to feel like she’d been defeated by the day already?

      Once she was back home, Sophia scooped up the small pile of envelopes from off the carpet and took them through to the kitchen. While the kettle boiled, she hung her coat up in the hallway and returned to open the post. It was the usual stuff. Bills. Tacky fast-food flyers. A leaflet with an offer to clean her windows for a fantastic price. Just as she was about to abandon the post, the last envelope caught her eye and Sophia paused as she looked down at it in her hands.

      The envelope was pearlescent. She turned it this way and that, watching how it shone, before sliding a finger beneath the seal. As her eyes scanned the invitation, Sophia went dizzy. Her stomach dropped and she sat down in the nearest chair to read it again, knowing she could read it a million times over and it would still announce the same thing. A reunion. A school reunion, right here in Worthington Green.

      Immediately, her mind swarmed with memories of her childhood and teenage years, of the people she’d grown up with, and one person in particular, the thought of whom made Sophia’s stomach clench. The same person who had made it so hard for Sophia to make and keep friends as an adult because she found it so damned impossible to trust anyone. The thought of seeing that face was enough to have all her old insecurities come rushing to the surface, along with a certain sense of sadness that felt crushing in its strength. She’d happily moved on since all of that but this invitation was dragging memories back up and she could hardly bear it.

      Sophia tried to swallow the lump that