by Sibel Hodge
‘I’m starving.’ She grinned. ‘Did you bring back any of Nadia’s muffins?’
‘No. There were none left. Chris ate the last one.’
She pulled an unamused face. ‘What about the quiche?’
‘There’s only the burnt one. No one wanted that for some reason. Can’t think why. I bet Poppy will love it. Nadia gave me some coffee cake, though, and some chocolate brownies. Dad should’ve put everything back in the fridge. Go and help yourself.’
She leaped off the sofa. ‘Oh, did I mention that the school is having a car boot sale soon to raise money for charity?’
‘No. Which charity?’
‘It’s going to the Dorset Wildlife Protection Trust. I’m going to help out and do a stall. Have we got anything I can sell?’
‘We must have loads of stuff we don’t need anymore. You can start by clearing out your wardrobes. I bet there are tons of things in there.’
‘Yeah, I’ll do that later. What about your things? And Dad’s?’
‘I’ll have a look. Check the loft, too. There are probably still boxes of stuff we haven’t even unpacked since we moved in. And if we haven’t missed it by now, we probably don’t need it.’
‘Wicked.’ She followed me into the kitchen, grabbed a plate, piled it with two brownies and a slice of cake. ‘I’ll get Emma to come round tomorrow and help me. She’s going to do it, too.’
‘OK. Why don’t you ask her to stay for dinner? You’re always going to her house for tea. I’m sure I can rustle up some chicken nuggets and chips.’
‘Yeah, that’s why I prefer going to my friends’ houses for dinner. Because their mums cook real food.’
I pulled a face at her. ‘Cheeky.’
She gave me a goofy grin and disappeared into the lounge.
I spotted Ethan through the kitchen window walking on the wooded side of our boundary fence. A few minutes later he and Poppy burst into the utility room. She took one look at me and leaped up, planting her forepaws on my chest.
I ruffled her fur and flapped her ears.
Ethan stared at me from the doorway, thick eyebrows furrowed. ‘So go on, then, tell me what happened. Did they think you were mad?’
‘There is a Georgia Walker who lives in Abbotsbury, but she’s very much alive.’ I gave him a sheepish smile.
Poppy jumped down and headed for her water bowl.
‘There. I told you, didn’t I? Told you it was a complete waste of time.’ His face instantly relaxed, softening out the tense lines. He walked towards me and hugged me tight.
‘You were right. Somehow he’d become confused about her. Tate construction had done an extension for her years ago, so he’d obviously met her before and must’ve remembered her name for some reason.’
He pulled back. ‘Really? Odd that he’d remember a customer after all this time.’
‘Who knows? He remembers all sorts of strange things but frequently forgets important things or even how to do everyday tasks.’
‘Well, at least this means we can get back to normal now. It’s been a stressful week and a stressful weekend so far.’
I ran my hand through the hair at the nape of his neck. ‘And how might we fix that?’ I raised a seductive eyebrow.
‘Early night?’ He grinned.
‘Absolutely.’ I winked.
Chapter Seven
On Sunday morning Ethan and I took Poppy for a walk along Chesil Beach while Anna raided her cupboards for things to sell at the car boot sale with her friend Emma. We leisurely strolled along, hand in hand, laughing at Poppy chasing seagulls. The sex last night had been amazing! Granted, sex was always going to be a little less adventurous now we had Anna, who was old enough to hear and understand everything. There was no doing it on the kitchen table or having a quickie while I was in the middle of washing up anymore, in case Anna came home unexpectedly, but we still hadn’t settled into that boring married routine of the missionary position on a Sunday night with the lights off. We were still adventurous, and it was still exciting and sexy and fulfilling. Probably better, even, over the years because we knew each other’s likes and dislikes so intimately.
I thought about Nadia and Lucas again. Maybe she’d made a mistake about the texts she’d seen. Lucas had been attentive and loving towards her on the beach, just like he always was. If she hadn’t told me, I would never have guessed something might be going on. They had both acted so happy together. I suppose you can never be sure what really goes on behind closed doors, though, can you? Even if you think you know people really well.
No, of course she hasn’t made a mistake, Olivia. Don’t be stupid. It’s not like you can turn ‘I want to fuck you’ into ‘I want coffee before takeoff, please, not tea’. What if it was serious? What if he left Nadia and Charlotte for this woman? My heart ached for her.
I watched Ethan throwing a stone for Poppy and wondered how women could stay with their partners after they found out they’d cheated on them. I mean, I know there are a magnitude of reasons why you would stay, especially if you have children together. But surely the jealousy and uncertainty that he wasn’t out there doing it again would eat you up inside. I couldn’t live like that. Lucas was a pig if he was cheating on her. No, I didn’t know how Nadia could just pretend everything was normal and act fine.
‘Do you want to come with me when I go and see Dad later?’ Ethan’s voice knocked me out of my thoughts.
‘No, I’ll go in the week. At least that way he’s getting more visiting days, and I need to catch up on some ironing I’ve neglected.’
‘OK.’
‘Can you go through your wardrobe when we get back to see if there’s anything you want to throw out since you’ll be away again all week?’
‘For Anna’s car boot?’
‘Mmm.’
‘I think we’ve got some boxes of old junk in the garage that we’ve never got round to throwing away. She can go through that, too.’
As we headed home an hour later we drove past the pub and I spotted Chris in the beer garden with a woman who had chin-length wavy red hair.
‘Hey, that was Chris.’ I twisted in my seat to look back.
‘So?’
‘He was with a woman.’
‘Yeah, he said yesterday he was meeting her for lunch.’
‘Really?’ I asked as Ethan pulled up at our front gates. I got out of the car, opened the heavy wooden doors and then closed them again after he’d parked up on the block-paved driveway in front of the garage. Even though it had been over two years since Abby had left Chris, and the divorce was now final, it seemed strange to think of Chris dating again. I don’t know why. It shouldn’t have been odd at all. In fact, I should be happy for him. It was probably that we’d all been such a happy family for so long − me and Ethan, Lucas and Nadia, Chris and Abby, and now we’d have to welcome someone new into the fold. I made a mental note to ask Chris if he’d like to bring his date over for dinner one night. Or better still, go out for a meal. I got too stressed when lots of people came over for a meal and usually ended up making a right mess of it, unlike Nadia, who had four courses planned for weeks in advance and slaved over a hot oven, barely breaking a sweat.
‘So, who is she? What does she do? How old is she? What’s her name?’ I asked.
Ethan laughed. ‘I don’t know. He didn’t really say much about her.’
‘Didn’t you ask? This is the first woman he’s been out with since Abby. Aren’t you interested?’ I shook my head at him. ‘Men. You are so useless at finding things out.’
The rest of the day was a lazy affair. Ethan and I snuggled up on the sofa and watched a DVD. Well, I watched it. He fell asleep, although God knows how he could when Anna and Emma were giggling and banging around in her bedroom so loudly.
Early the next morning Ethan kissed me awake with a mug of tea in his hand before he travelle
d back up to York.
‘I’ll miss you.’ He put the mug on the bedside table and sat next to me on the bed.
‘Me, too. Will you be back Friday or before?’
He shrugged. ‘It depends how the job’s going. Hopefully before.’
Poppy flew into the room and put her front paws up on the bed, pushing in between us with a wet nose.
I laughed at her. ‘Yes, I’ll take you out later!’
Ethan kissed my lips softly and stood up. ‘I’d better be off, anyway. I’ll call you tonight. Love you.’
‘Love you, too.’ I pushed Poppy off the bed and hastily dressed in cropped trousers and a vest top. The summer was still going strong. Apparently it was the hottest July for twenty-eight years. How long would it last? It would probably be snowing next week.
Forty-five minutes later I was making Anna’s packed lunch whilst eating a slice of toast with damson jam that Nadia had made last week. I would’ve just had butter on it, but I’d miscalculated the amount I’d needed for all the picnic stuff and we’d run out. I needed to do another shopping list. I could swear there was a secret food-eating troll who lived in our house. I tried to remember if Anna needed her PE kit today. Mondays? Did they do PE on Monday? I peered at her timetable stuck on the front of the fridge with a clown magnet Anna had insisted on buying from somewhere or other. It was an evil-looking thing and gave me the creeps but she loved it. Wasn’t there an actual phobia about clowns I’d read about once? I wouldn’t be at all surprised. I’d seen the film It by Stephen King when I was a teenager and it had scared the life out of me.
Anna sat at the table, looking immaculate − hair gleaming and smooth and swept back with a hair band, school shirt buttoned up and neatly tucked into her skirt, cute ankle socks with the frilly edges in perfect ruffles. I thought about what I’d looked like at her age. Wild hair all over the place, one sock up, one down, shirt tucked out of my skirt. Always too late or too distracted to do things properly. She must get her organisational skills from Ethan or Nadia. Still, she had my hair, which was thick and full of body. At least she’d never go bald, thanks to my genes. And she had my snub nose and big blue eyes. Plus my caring nature. That had to count for some Brownie points. Didn’t it?
‘Where’s the butter?’ Anna looked forlornly at the peanut butter and jam I’d put on the table.
‘We’ve run out.’ I frantically spread strawberry jam on some wholemeal bread that felt like it was on the cusp of staleness again.
Mental note: Add bread to the list!
Anna groaned. ‘You know I hate toast without butter.’
I sighed and opened the tin with the last of the brownies in. ‘Here, have a brownie instead.’ I shoved it on her plate.
She picked off chunks and chewed, watching me. ‘It’s not healthy to have a brownie for breakfast and jam sandwiches for lunch.’
Who was the parent here?
‘And you’re not even dressed yet. You’re meeting Nadia at the bus stop in ten minutes. I can do my own lunch, you know.’
Honestly, I don’t know where the time goes in the morning. I tried, I really did, but there was always something that needed doing to distract me − this morning it had been a gas bill that I’d totally forgotten about which needed paying before they cut us off. Anna didn’t share my lack of punctuality. In fact, she hated being late, especially for the school bus. If she missed it, she might end up with a detention. (This had happened before because of me. I’d felt very guilty about that for weeks. It took a new Horrible History Boxed Set DVD and a Kindle Fire for Anna to speak to me again.) She was such a stickler for following the rules and being the model student and got quite upset if she couldn’t because of my tardiness. She hadn’t got that conscientiousness at school from me, either.
‘It’s all done.’ I transferred her sandwiches to a plastic container and added the last Satsuma and a packet of crisps still left in the back of the cupboard. ‘Here.’ I set it down next to her as she finished off her brownie. I dashed out of the room with Poppy close on my heels. She knew it would be walkies time soon.
Ten minutes later, I was dressed but having trouble locating my keys. Where the hell were they? I looked where I usually dumped them, in the pottery bowl next to the fridge that Anna had made at junior school. It was in the shape of a three-legged tiger. Don’t ask me why it only had three legs.
No keys.
I looked in the lounge. In my handbag. My coat pockets. When had I last had them?
As I was walking back down the hall I stubbed my toe on a big cardboard box at the foot of the stairs. ‘Ouch!’ I hopped up and down, thinking a really bad swear word. I rubbed my foot, staring at the offending article. ‘Hey, what’s this?’
‘It’s some stuff I sorted out for the car boot sale. I thought I should put everything in one big box so then I know what I’ve got.’ She walked towards me.
‘Right. Well, I don’t want it left in the hallway. Put it in the garage out of the way when you get a sec.’
‘OK. I’m going now. I’ll tell Nadia you’re on your way.’
‘Actually, tell Nadia to walk down and meet me here instead.’ I kissed her cheek. ‘Have a good day!’ I called after her, but she was already rushing up the path.
It took another ten minutes to locate my keys in the fridge. I had a flashback to when Tom was living with us and he’d put the TV remote control in the freezer. It never worked properly after that. The only button that did work was the volume one, for some reason. I shook my head. He was always doing that. Losing things only for them to turn up in obscure places. I didn’t have early-onset Alzheimer’s, though; I was just distracted, trying to organise a daughter and a house and a husband and job. Who didn’t forget things from time to time?
As I shut the front door, Nadia came through the gates.
‘Coming! I’m coming,’ I called, and Poppy shot down the garden towards Minstrel to say a doggy greeting.
Nadia rolled her eyes at me, tapping her watch.
‘Yes, I know. I’m not Super Woman like you.’ I gave her a mock glare, shutting the front gate behind us.
We swung an immediate left onto the path that led to the woods and Poppy dashed towards the trees. Nadia let Minstrel off the lead and she chased after her.
‘I’ve just seen Rose Quinn coming out of the village shop.’ Nadia scrunched up her face with sympathy. ‘She had a few bottles clinking away in the carrier bag. Buying alcohol at this time of the morning is just so sad.’
‘She’s an alcoholic, so I suppose she doesn’t care what time it is.’
‘It must be terrible losing a daughter like that and Katie never getting in touch. I couldn’t bear it if Charlotte ran away from home and I never saw her again. No wonder she started drinking.’
‘Rose never cared about Katie. I think Rose was actually glad when Katie ran away. They never got on.’ I tutted. ‘And she was an alcoholic long before Katie left.’
‘Have you tried to get her into an AA programme through the surgery?’
‘Yes, but Rose doesn’t want anyone’s help.’
‘What a shame. If she really wanted to, I bet she could stop drinking. Plenty of alcoholics do, don’t they? It’s like smoking. Lots of people quit. I did. And they say nicotine is even more addictive than heroin.’
‘Smoking was the hardest thing in the world to give up,’ I said, remembering the first cigarette I’d had with Katie when I was about fourteen.
She’d brought a packet to school with her and dared me to smoke one at the end of the huge school playing field. It was almost the end of our lunch break and there were a few kids still sitting by the hedgerow, making the most of their last minutes of freedom. If a teacher was looking out of the window at us, they would never be able to see the smoke from that far away, but it still felt scary, rebellious. She lit one up with her back facing the school building, took a practi
sed drag and slowly blew out smoke towards the ground.
‘Go on, you have a go.’ She handed it to me.
I glanced around. Two second-year girls were dusting themselves off and walking back to class. A couple of fifth-year boys were bundling on top of each other, grass in their hair and on their clothes.
When I took a drag, I’d nearly choked as the disgusting smoke filled my lungs. Coughing and spluttering, I blew it out as quickly as I could, swaying on the ground when the nicotine head rush made me dizzy.
‘Whoa!’ I put my hand on the grass to steady myself.
‘Lightweight!’ Katie roared with laughter.
I shrugged and took another drag, trying to look sophisticated. Anything she could do, I could do, too.
‘Where did you get them from?’
‘Stole them off my Dad. He won’t even notice.’
I blew out more smoke, trying not to cough.
‘Here, save some for me!’ she said when I got halfway through it.
I handed it back and ran my tongue around in my mouth, which now tasted like an ashtray. I was stupid enough to think I’d never get hooked. No one could ever get addicted to something that tasted that bad, right? How naive.
‘Anyway,’ I waved a hand through the air at Nadia, ‘Rose has been an alcoholic for probably thirty-plus years. It’s unlikely she’s going to change now.’
‘Maybe it was a good job Chris didn’t stay with Katie, then. Can you imagine if we’d ended up with Katie’s dad as an in-law? Jack always gave me the creeps. If I ever saw him out in the village, he always had this leery look on his face.’
I groaned in agreement. ‘Oh, he was awful! It was pretty rare for me to go round to Katie’s house because she never wanted to be there, − understandably, with Rose and Jack both drinking heavily. But when I did, I’d catch him looking at me in a way that made my skin crawl.’
Nadia did a mock shiver. ‘Oh, by the way, I invited Anna over for dinner after school. She asked if I had any stuff for her class’s car boot sale, and I’ve got tons of junk she can go through. It’ll take her a while so I suggested she might as well stay. Is that OK?’
