‘I still can’t believe you are here,’ said Jess to her mum as they settled down with a brew when Maisie was in bed. ‘Are you sure you are okay?’
‘Don’t you worry about me,’ said Carol. ‘I am exactly where I need to be.’
Carol had wondered how she had ended up here, when two years ago she had been living in her cosy terraced house with her husband. She had envisaged a comfortable retirement until Jess’s dad had decided he wanted the exact opposite.
She would never reveal to Jess how much her father had hurt her. She did not want to influence her decision to have a relationship with him, although it appeared things between them were less than perfect.
Just recently her ex-husband had lost weight, bought an open-topped car and was travelling up and down the country with his new love each weekend. That was according to one of her old colleagues at the Co-op. She wondered if it was the real thing between the two of them. Or just one last-ditch attempt on her husband’s part to try and recapture his youth. At sixty, he was far too old for a mid-life crisis.
She wondered if she had become boring and that was why he had strayed. She still enjoyed having fun, although maybe her conversations had revolved around her part-time job and the comings and goings of the staff. Perhaps if he had helped with the housework a little more, she might not have felt constantly exhausted.
Still, it was all in the past now and she had gotten over him and accepted the situation. She had no choice. She just felt sad that her ex would not be around to be the grandad Maisie deserved. Especially as Maisie did not seem keen to visit him at his new place. Surely that must hurt him? Some might say he deserved it, but Carol was never one to think that way.
‘You are too soft, Mum,’ her wise daughter would sometimes tell her when she put herself out for others. She believed what went around usually came around, though.
‘Actually, while you were in the shower, I have been looking at rentals in the area,’ Carol told Jess as she sipped her tea.
‘Gosh, Mum, there is no rush. You have only been here five minutes,’ said Jess.
‘Yes, but I don’t want to get too comfortable here,’ she told her daughter. ‘Besides, you don’t have much storage and most of my stuff is taking up space in your cupboard in the hall. And let’s not forget the sale of Wisteria House.’
It was true that Jess had had to move things about a bit, and some of Maisie’s toys and games were now on the floor of her spacious wardrobe, Maisie’s room already overflowing with her things. Time to do a charity shop donation, thought Jess. Especially as Christmas was only a few months away, when more toys would arrive.
She didn’t want to think about the sale of Wisteria House, though.
‘Anyway, I have spotted something on St Nicolas Road. A ground-floor apartment in an independent living facility that is well within my price range.’
She turned the laptop to show her daughter the apartment with the communal garden. It looked in good order, apart from the décor that needed some updating.
‘That looks nice,’ said Jess. She quite liked the idea of her mum being in a place with a community room, even though she was only in her sixties and still fit and active. ‘And it is close to the beach.’
‘That’s what I thought.’ Carol smiled. ‘Literally a five-minute walk to the sand dunes. And the leisure centre.’
Maybe she would take up swimming again, thought Carol, something she had once loved to do. She suddenly felt excited for the future.
‘I think I will arrange a viewing,’ said Carol positively. ‘I will call the estate agent tomorrow. But for now, I want to hear all about what has been going on in your life,’ she said to her daughter.
‘Shall I grab that wine from the fridge and a couple of glasses?’ suggested Jess.
‘Oh, go on, then,’ said Carol, collecting their half-finished cups of tea and taking them into the kitchen.
Jess decided that she would talk to her mum about Declan. There would never be a right time to have the conversation, so she might as well get it over with and hear her thoughts on it.
She still hadn’t spoken to Declan, although she had thought of him every day, unsuccessfully trying to push away the thoughts of the kiss they had shared. His past was behind him. He had served his sentence. Yet a tiny part of her brain could not seem to shift the possibility that he had mown a man down in cold blood.
What if he possessed a rage when provoked? She could never take that risk. Especially not with having Maisie.
‘I can picture that apartment looking really cosy,’ said Carol as she clutched her wine, feet curled up on the sofa. ‘And Maisie can have sleepovers.’ Carol frowned for a moment. ‘I hope children are allowed to stay in an over-sixties apartment block. Anyway, it will give you the chance to go on an evening out now and again,’ Carol suggested. ‘And I can always stay at yours if children are not allowed,’ she said, already imagining herself living in the apartment. ‘So have you made plans to go out with Declan yet?’
‘About that,’ said Jess as she swigged down a large glug of her wine.
FIFTY-EIGHT
ALICE
Alice had found a writing set in a charity shop in the village on her last visit there.
It had been a steal at two pounds and included six good-quality sheets of paper and pink envelopes, with a swirl of flowers around the edge. It had also included a pen, so she had dropped an extra couple of pound coins into the charity box on the counter.
