Just Between Us

by Cathy Kelly

  It had been a week since the big row with Nick; a week in which they hadn’t seen each other. For the first few days, Stella had steeled herself not to phone him. He could make the first move, she decided. Then, he’d phoned her on Friday morning to tell her that his mother was in hospital and that he was driving to visit her.

  ‘She was in bed with flu and she fell trying to get up. She’s broken her hip and she’s very distressed,’ he said. He sounded weary and miserable. ‘She’s always had a weak chest and my worry is that she’ll get pneumonia, and she won’t be strong enough to fight it. I’m sorry,’ he said again. ‘It’s been a nightmare week. Jenna’s in trouble in school again and that’s not all. She and Wendy are at war; Jenna’s being very rude to her mother. I’ve tried talking to her but she keeps saying “What do you care?” I can’t get through to her and Wendy goes mad and says I’m not trying to sort it out. You can’t imagine how awful it is.’

  Stella thought she could picture the scene pretty well. A distraught Nick trying to keep the peace but somehow failing everyone: failing Jenna by not being her live-at-home dad any more and failing Wendy by not performing her undoable task. And it was undoable. Nick couldn’t sort out Jenna’s relationship with her mother. That was between Wendy and Jenna. No matter what the fallout from the divorce, Wendy shouldn’t blame every difficulty on Nick. She’d destroy his relationship with Jenna if she did.

  Even though she’d sworn to herself she wouldn’t say too much about the Jenna/Wendy relationship, Stella had to say something.

  ‘Nick, don’t let Wendy manipulate you into a situation where the only times you talk to Jenna, it’s to harangue her.’

  ‘I don’t harangue her,’ protested Nick.

  ‘That was the wrong word,’ Stella said. ‘But you end up talking firmly to Jenna every time you see her. I know,’ she added, hearing Nick about to interrupt, ‘she’s been behaving badly at school and being awful to Wendy but they’re two separate issues. You can’t control Jenna to the extent that you tell her how to deal with her relationship with her mother. She’s growing up, she’s testing her boundaries.’ Stella grinned to herself. Now she was standing up for Jenna’s rights in all of this, instead of giving out about her.

  There was silence on the other end of the phone. ‘You’re right, Stella. I’m sorry you’re having to deal with the fall-out of all of this. I’m sorry about everything,’ he added. ‘I should have phoned you to tell you that, but I didn’t. This morning, I decided that this had gone on long enough and I was going to drop round this evening and try to sort things out but now…’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Stella interrupted. ‘We can talk when you get back.’

  She wasn’t sure where that talk would get them, but what the hell. They’d talk.

  He rang again on Sunday night, his voice hoarse with tiredness.

  ‘She’s turned a corner, the doctors think. In fact, she’s just given out to me for looking as if I hadn’t brushed my hair this morning, which is a sign that she’s on the mend.’

  ‘That’s wonderful,’ said Stella. She’d really liked Nick’s feisty mother and had hated to think of that bright spark quenched with a painful, frightening illness.

  ‘All going well, I’ll be back in Dublin on Tuesday.’ He paused. ‘Could I take you out to dinner?’

  Stella thought about it. If she and Nick were to solve their differences, they needed to have a frank discussion. Doing this in a crowded restaurant would probably be a mistake. ‘I’ll cook you dinner here,’ she said.

  For the first time in a week, Stella woke on Monday morning feeling happier. She was looking forward to seeing Nick in spite of everything. She was in work early and flew through her morning’s appointments.

  ‘How are things?’ asked Vicki tentatively just before lunch.

  Stella shrugged. ‘OK.’

  ‘Good,’ remarked Vicki. ‘Are you in the mood for a girlie gossipy lunch?’

  The previous week, Stella had worked at her desk during lunch, feeling too heartbroken to put on a convivial act. Today, lunch sounded great.

  ‘I’d love lunch,’ Stella said. ‘But what about Craig?’

  These days, Craig often joined their lunches. He and Vicki were getting increasingly serious about each other and Stella loved teasing Vicki about wedding bells.

  ‘Craig knows his place,’ said Vicki primly. ‘In bed, behind the hoover, in the kitchen,’ she recited. ‘Never at girlie lunches.’

  ‘So, tell all,’ commanded Vicki when they were sitting at a cosy table in a jammed restaurant across the street, having ordered enough food for a regiment. Stella, who hadn’t been hungry for a week, was suddenly ravenous.

  ‘He’s coming over for dinner tomorrow night and we’re going to talk. About everything.’

  ‘Be honest, tell him how you feel,’ advised Vicki. ‘And if he doesn’t understand how much he upset you, dump him.’ Vicki was very fond of Nick but she was fiercely protective of her friend. If Nick hurt Stella again, he’d have Vicki to contend with.

  ‘If I phone you at midnight tomorrow, sobbing my heart out, will you come round and rescue me?’ asked Stella.

  ‘Promise.’

  When Stella got back to her office, there was a message on her direct line voicemail.

  ‘Hello, this is Mrs Winston, vice principal of The Harmon School. I’m trying to contact Mr Nick Cavaletto about his daughter, Jenna, and his office gave us this number. If you could help, Ms Miller, I’d be grateful.’ She left a phone number, which Stella rapidly scribbled down before dialling.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Winston, this is Stella Miller, I’m, er…a friend of Nick’s.’ She could hardly say she was anything else, could she? ‘He’s out of Dublin right now on family business, can I help? Is there a problem with Jenna?’

  ‘Yes, and I’m afraid I can’t reach Mrs Cavaletto either.’

  ‘I can try to reach Nick on his mobile and tell him to ring you,’ suggested Stella. Whatever the problem with Jenna was, she wasn’t getting involved.

  ‘I have tried his mobile but it’s off,’ pointed out Mrs Winston.

  ‘Right,’ said Stella. He wouldn’t be able to keep the phone switched on in the hospital ward. ‘I know where he is; it’s just a matter of getting a message to him. I’ll do my best.’

  ‘Thank you. That would be a great help.’

  ‘Jenna’s not ill is she?’ Stella asked, just to be sure that there wasn’t anything seriously wrong.

  Mrs Winston’s snort of disapproval was quite audible.

  ‘She’s not ill; she’s been suspended and we need somebody to take her home.’

  It took a few minutes to track Nick down in the hospital and he sounded nervous when he heard Stella’s voice. ‘What’s wrong, Stella?’ he asked.

  She explained briefly.

  ‘Shit. That’s all we need. What has she done?’

  ‘Mrs Winston didn’t tell me and I didn’t ask. She can’t get hold of Wendy and they want Jenna to go home.’

  ‘Thank you, I’m really grateful to you for stepping in,’ said Nick wearily. ‘I’ll phone later.’

  But when he phoned back in fifteen minutes, it was to ask for Stella’s help.

  ‘Jenna’s in deep trouble,’ he said, sounding even more shattered than ever. ‘She was caught bunking off maths and smoking with a friend in the showers and when they were caught and the teacher gave out to them, Jenna went ballistic and said something along the lines of “she could bloody well smoke if she felt like it”. Bad language was a major feature of her tirade, apparently. Mrs Winston has just given me an earful about how they won’t tolerate that type of behaviour in the school. Jenna’s on a warning and if anything like this happens again, she could be expelled.’

  Stella winced.

  ‘The problem is, Wendy isn’t at home and her mobile is turned off. The school insist that Jenna is picked up. I know this is asking you a huge favour what with all that’s happened between us, and I know you’re busy at work, but would you
do it?’

  ‘I can’t imagine she’ll even get in the car with me,’ Stella pointed out.

  ‘She will,’ said Nick grimly. ‘I just spoke to her on her mobile and she was very subdued.’

  Stella couldn’t imagine Jenna being subdued. She must ask Mrs Winston for the secret.

  ‘Of course I’ll do it,’ she said with a confidence she didn’t feel. Jenna would probably be as rude as hell to her, but despite their row, she couldn’t let Nick down. If he’d been just another parent with a kid who needed picking up, she’d have helped.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Nick gratefully.

  It was just after three in the afternoon when Stella drove into The Harmon School. A group of male and female students in grey tracksuits sloped back into the school to face the afternoon after sports.

  ‘I’m looking for Mrs Winston’s office,’ Stella said to a couple of sweet kids who looked so young that they had to be first years.

  Following their directions, she found herself in a modern corridor with signs pointing to various offices. At the principal and vice principal’s office, the school secretary sat in an anteroom in front of a computer. She was a strikingly attractive girl and Stella imagined that all the male students had crushes on her.

  ‘Can I help?’

  ‘I’m Stella Miller and I’m here for Jenna Cavaletto.’

  The girl’s face dropped. ‘Oh,’ she said.

  ‘Is she in very big trouble?’ asked Stella.

  ‘Pretty much,’ said the girl. ‘She’s lucky the principal is away. He’s tougher than Mrs Winston.’

  Stella wondered what the principal could possibly be like because Mrs Winston had sounded quite stern on the phone. She turned out to be tall, lean woman with short grey hair and a grave, intelligent face.

  ‘Ms Miller, thanks for coming. You’re Jenna’s stepmother, I believe.’

  Stella sank into the proffered chair. ‘Not precisely. I’m a friend of her father’s. He’ll be home tomorrow and I’m sure he and Mrs Cavaletto will come in to discuss things.’

  ‘You were good to come and pick Jenna up. We have a policy of not allowing pupils to remain on the premises when something like this happens. If they spend the day in class, suddenly they’ve done this brave thing and stood up to the staff. That seriously undermines everything we stand for. We have found that sending the pupil home gives a firm message that this behaviour is not acceptable.’

  ‘Of course it isn’t,’ Stella murmured.

  Mrs Winston buzzed for Jenna to be brought in.

  Stella wondered if she ought to let Mrs Winston in on the fact that Jenna might refuse point-blank to go home with her.

  She decided not to.

  Jenna came into the room, her face white. Her expression was minus the usual truculence she displayed whenever she met Stella.

  ‘Hi, Jenna,’ said Stella flatly. ‘I’ve come to take you home.’

  ‘OK,’ said Jenna quietly, looking at the parquet floor.

  ‘I hope you’ll think about what I’ve said, Jenna,’ said Mrs Winston. ‘If you’re not prepared to behave in a reasonable manner, then we don’t want you in Harmon.’

  ‘Yes,’ mumbled Jenna.

  Despite the fact that on many occasions, Stella would have done anything to see Jenna downcast and reprimanded, now that it had happened, she felt a surge of pity for the girl. Jenna didn’t look like a tough, rebellious girl any more. In her school uniform with a biro stain on a cuff and her school bag dangling from one shoulder, she looked like a kid who needed a hug.

  Still, she wouldn’t appreciate one from Stella.

  ‘Let’s go,’ Stella said. ‘Thanks, Mrs Winston.’

  Jenna led the way, seemingly anxious to be out of Mrs Winston’s presence.

  The two of them walked in silence to Stella’s car.

  When she switched the ignition on, the radio came on and Stella made no effort to turn the volume down. Given their past history she didn’t want to talk to Jenna in case the girl started raging against her again.

  ‘I suppose I’m going to get a lecture now,’ snapped Jenna as they reached the school gates.

  Stella, concentrating on getting out into a line of heavy traffic, shook her head.

  ‘Not from me. That’s between you and your parents.’

  ‘But you’re my stepmother.’ The way Jenna said it, made the word sound like triple axe-murderer.

  A month ago, Stella would have flared up at Jenna’s tone of voice. Now, she’d learned her lesson. Jenna was a troubled kid and it wasn’t Stella’s job to sort her out. All Stella could do was be calm with her.

  ‘No, Jenna, I’m not your stepmother. You’re too old for a stepmother, you don’t need my help. And I’m not getting into a fight with you. If that’s what you want, phone your mother. I’m driving you to my home as a favour to your father, that’s all. If you want to fight, I’ll turn this car around and deliver you back to Mrs Winston.’

  Jenna said nothing.

  ‘Do you want to be dropped home or do you want to come to my house until we can reach your mother?’

  ‘Your house,’ Jenna said quickly.

  ‘Why? You don’t usually like being in my house.’

  ‘Dad said I should go home with you until we can talk to Mum.’

  The rest of the trip was silent. Stella thought about the possibility of Wendy arriving at her house in fury and engaging in a screaming fit. Strangely, the notion didn’t upset her. Wendy could scream and rant all she wanted. Stella was out of the Cavaletto family loop. They could sort things out on their own. And they had better do it quickly before Jenna did something really outrageous. The poor kid was looking for attention and nobody seemed to realise it.

  At home, Stella walked in, leaving Jenna to follow uncertainly. The message light on the answering machine was on, blinking furiously. Stella walked past it.

  ‘You’ve got messages,’ said Jenna.

  ‘I’m not really in the mood for messages,’ Stella said. ‘I need a cup of tea first. Would you like some tea or a sandwich, Jenna?’

  ‘No.’

  The anger finally flared in Stella. ‘You say no thank you,’ she said fiercely.

  ‘Says who?’ Jenna’s words were cheeky but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her face.

  ‘I say so,’ Stella rapped. ‘Let’s get one thing straight, there are different rules in operation now.’

  Jenna blinked in surprise.

  ‘This is my home and I was ready to share it with your father. I loved him. Because I loved him, I made a big effort with you and you threw it back in my face. That’s your choice, you have the right to make it. Nobody can make you like me. But,’ Stella glared at the girl, eyes flashing in anger, ‘you do not have the choice to be rude to me in my own home. If you can’t be civil, you won’t be coming here. Simple. It’s a bit like Mrs Winston and your school. Life has rules, Jenna, and if you keep breaking them, eventually people get fed up with you. Frankly, I have bigger worries than you right now.’

  Stella went into the kitchen and boiled the kettle, feeling the fire in her veins cool down. She shouldn’t have said that, she thought, leaning her head against the cool of the fridge. So much for being calm and controlled. The Art Of Step experts would be horrified if they’d heard her. She heard the television being switched on in the sitting room. When she’d made herself some camomile tea, she went in to Jenna and found her with a packet of cigarettes in her hand.

  ‘Don’t even think about smoking here.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to,’ Jenna said quickly. ‘Dad will kill me for smoking.’

  Stella smiled for the first time in ages. ‘My father went mad when my youngest sister started smoking. She was seventeen and he said he’d ground her for the rest of her life. She stopped, and started again when she left home.’

  ‘What’s she like?’ asked Jenna, looking interested.

  ‘Holly is beautiful; she’s very tall and dark haired and she works in Lee’s Department Store.’
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  ‘I love Lee’s,’ said Jenna enthusiastically. ‘Does she get a discount? Can I meet her?’

  ‘I don’t think it would be a good idea for you to meet Holly,’ Stella said. ‘She’s been going through a rough time lately and I know you’re not too keen on members of the Miller family.’

  ‘I like Amelia,’ protested Jenna.

  ‘It’s only me you hate, right?’ Stella said wryly.

  ‘I don’t hate you,’ mumbled Jenna.

  Silence reigned for a few moments.

  ‘Where is Amelia?’ asked Jenna.

  ‘In Euro Disney with her father.’

  ‘Oh. I thought Dad said you and he were going there with her.’

  From the sad look on Jenna’s face when she said this, Stella intuited that this had been another nail in the coffin. Jenna had been jealous as hell that her father loved Amelia.

  ‘We were going to go to France,’ Stella said quietly, ‘but now that your father and I are…well, the plans have changed. Amelia’s father has taken her on holiday for two weeks and he said wanted to take her to Euro Disney.’

  ‘What do you mean “the plans have changed”?’ Jenna looked suspicious.

  Stella debated telling Jenna the truth. It might be interesting to see how the girl reacted to the news of her father and Stella splitting up. She’d probably jump for joy, which would be final proof, if proof were needed, that Jenna hated the idea of another woman in her father’s life.

  ‘We’re probably going to split up,’ Stella said flatly. She waited for Jenna’s reaction but instead of the satisfied smirk she’d expected, the girl’s face fell.

  The knowing adult expression had vanished. Jenna looked like a nervous kid who’d been caught out doing something wrong.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Stella curiously.

  Jenna shook her head mutely.

  ‘Fine.’ Stella picked up the cup of camomile tea and walked to her bedroom door.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Jenna’s voice was small and full of remorse. ‘I didn’t mean it.’

  ‘Didn’t mean what?’

  ‘Didn’t mean you to split up. I never wanted to hurt Dad,’ bleated Jenna tearfully. ‘I love him. It’s only because Mum said he’d forget about us if…’ She broke off and rubbed her eyes roughly with her sleeve.