‘Front door?’ Ingrid stands back in the expectation that Jonathan will come in ‘My, we are formal today’ she says with a grin.
‘Is R-rosalyn at home?’ he asks, still standing on the doorstep and making no move to follow her into the hall.
‘Oh’ she covers her misunderstanding with another smile as she turns back to him ‘Sorry, no, she’s not actually. Shadowing a midwife for the next couple of weeks on home visits and she’s been called out...the midwife that is, not Ros...but she’s gone with her. Her first birth unless the mother objects to her being there’ she looks at her wristwatch ‘which she probably hasn’t as time’s getting on...’
‘N-not to worry, thank you’ he cuts her explanation short and steps back onto the path.
‘Aren’t you coming in?’ her puzzlement and curiosity gets the better of her.
‘I-I won’t if you don’t mind’
‘Please yourself’ she says with a toss of her head, still smiling but the smile becoming strained.
‘I’m s-sorry’ Jonathan feels the need to explain ‘I’d s-something to tell Rosalyn and I c-can’t really c-concentrate on anything else until I have’
‘You need to concentrate to have a coffee?’ Ingrid asks, managing to keep her voice bright and friendly.
‘I won’t, thank you’
‘Did you want to leave a message...or I can get her to ring you. Is it important?’ she presses, although thinking she has some idea of the reason for his visit.
‘N-not that important, it will w-wait. You don’t know what time she’ll be h-home?’
‘I don’t. Sorry’
Jonathan nods and turns to leave ‘S-sorry if I’ve k-kept you from your dinner’
Ingrid watches until he reaches the gate and, with a sigh, slowly closes the door.
‘Oh, poor Ros!’ she groans once back in the kitchen ‘You know what’s coming, don’t you?’ she slumps back on her chair and looks at the remains of her meal with disinterest and pushes it away. ‘I bet he’s back with Charlene. Pound to a penny that’s why he wants to see her’
‘You don’t know that, Mum’ Roxanne looks over the rim of her water glass and rolls her eyes.
‘She was at his place Saturday night’ Ingrid lets slip, immediately regretting saying so and biting her lip.
‘...but why would he think he needs to tell her anyway, even if she was?’
‘It’s not like him and Ros are going out’ Rachel puts in philosophically ‘so what’s it to you who he sleeps with?’
Ingrid fixes her youngest daughter with a stare ‘I’ll remind you of that next time you get a crush on some hunk in the sixth form. I’d’ve thought you two would have understood a bit better than that’
‘O-kay, no need to go on’
The Red House,
Barleyfield Way
Chapter Thirty-nine
Dell Cottage, Washbrook Lane
‘It is a decision you can only make for yourselves’ Helen says wisely, smiling first at Marie then up at Kester as he refills her glass ‘I can imagine how difficult it is to make’
‘I wanted to leave it until after the wedding’ Marie pokes the tip of her tongue at Marcus ‘but he can’t seem to let it drop’
‘It’s on my mind, okay?’ Marcus sulks from behind his can and tips it back to drink.
‘Yeah...like all the time. We’ve got other things to think about right now’
‘Lighten up!’ Nathan slips the last of the five CD’s of his choice into the player, sets it on random selection and presses the play button ‘this is supposed to be a bit of a reunion not a bloody funeral!’ He returns to his chair, pulling Stephanie back onto his lap from the arm of it once he is sitting down. ‘What’s your biggest problem?’
Marcus says ‘Work!’ at the same time as Marie says ‘Luke’. They look at each other.
‘We can’t even agree on that’ she grimaces.
‘Luke, work, house, money’ Marcus grumbles ‘What difference does the order make?’
‘Quite a bit’ Kester observes drily ‘If you don’t want to uproot Luke, then having a job and a house here wouldn’t make a lot of odds’ He earns a smile from Marie.
‘How old is he again?’ Beth asks from the table as she picks from the small buffet Stephanie has prepared.
‘Rising five...and that complicates things even more. Here, he’d be due to start school in September if he hadn’t started already but over there he’d still be at kindy for another year’ Marie replies, shelling a pistachio nut and nibbling at it before putting it all in her mouth.
‘I suppose they’d be at the same level educationally, so not too much of a complication’
‘It’s whether we could take him from Amy’s Mum and Dad as well’ Marcus replies to Helen’s remark ‘It’s the only life he’s ever known’
‘From what I know of children, they adapt very well at his age’
‘Not sure you could say the same for his grandparents; he’s all they’ve got of Amy’
‘Didn’t I say lighten up?’ Nathan zaps the CD player and turns up the volume.
‘Nathan!’ Stephanie makes a grab for the remote control ‘Don’t be so rude’ she lowers the sound and turns to Marcus ‘You were saying?’
He shrugs. ‘Doesn’t matter...only to me and Marie. He’s right, shouldn’t be boring you lot with it’
‘The way I look at it’ Andy makes room for Beth on the sofa and filches a sausage roll from her plate ‘the only decision you’ve got to make is about the little fella’ he looks around the room as he munches ‘You’ve got your own firm....so have you...and I’ve got a bit of influence with Dad. It shouldn’t be beyond the realms of possibility to find you work as long as you’re not fussy what you do’
‘And somewhere to live?’ Marie looks less than enthusiastic.
‘If I had a job, we could find somewhere!’ Marcus leans forward eagerly ‘We wouldn’t have to live with your parents or mine’
‘I really don’t think it’d be that easy. It’s really good of you’ she says ‘but none of you are going to come up with a job paying top dollar, even though I know he’s worth it’ she throws a smile in Marcus’s direction ‘there just wouldn’t be enough to manage on. We’d have to rent and what they’re asking a month round here is phenomenal ’
‘You’d be working’
‘And what about child care?’
‘If it wasn’t for the fact we don’t know how long we’re going to be back at Pennywell, I’d offer for you to live there’ Helen says ‘but there’d still be the mortgage to cover’
Marcus groans and throws himself back in his chair ‘Thanks guys, but we’ve looked at this every which way and there just aren’t any easy solutions. Forget it. Let’s talk about something else’
Orchard Barn, nr Bath
‘That’s a turn up for the books’ Christopher ends the call and leans forward to put the hands free set on the low table in front of him.
‘What is?’ Lynn stirs from her doze, rearranges the cushion beneath her head and lies down again.
‘Imogen’
‘On the phone?’ she says, astonished, and struggles to sit up in an attempt to look interested.
‘Pigs might fly’ Chris scoffs ‘No, that was Lesroy’
‘Oh, right...checking in’
‘Latest update...Imogen...you’re not going to believe this...has been helping out on a soup run!’ he says, letting his mouth hang open to illustrate his shock at the news.
‘Hmm and which magazine sponsored the soup?’ Lynn mutters scathingly. ‘Hope she at least paid the poor souls she got to pose with her’
‘Nope, it was nothing like that. She’s got herself involved with some charity or other for the homeless and has been going out with them...volunteering and completely anonymously, according to him. No fanfares, no trumpets, no press, just handing out soup and bread’
‘I bet it tasted so much better from someone in a Prada suit’
‘Ly-nn!’ he rebukes, the quietness of his voice emphasising his disapproval ‘No need for that, at least it seems as though something’s got through to her. It’s a start, isn’t it?’
‘Oh, I suppose so’ she sighs and lies back again.
‘Are you alright, darling?’ Chris tilts his head and puts out a hand to brush her hair from her forehead.
‘Because I’m not jumping up and down and praising the Lord that she’s been saved?’ she resists the temptation to knock his hand away.
‘No...you look at bit pale and it’s not like you to nod off, not this early in the evening’ his thumb caresses the front of her ear. ‘And you didn’t finish your dinner either’
‘Not feeling so good, that’s all. I’ll be fine tomorrow’
‘In what way not good, bit of a tum?’
‘I’ve felt a bit off for the last few days’ Lynn sighs and stretches as she sits up ‘nothing specific...just yuk’
‘Touch of ‘flu, probably. Are you having an early night?’ he asks when she gets to her feet.
‘Might be an idea’ Lynn nods as she answers then groans and covering her mouth with her hand, makes a dash for the door.
