‘Good, now get into bed. I’m going to put the kettle on, and while it’s boiling, I’m going to clean that bathroom of yours.’
Olivia’s stomach dropped in horror. ‘No! Surely one of the cleaners could do that?’
‘They could, yes, but they work hard enough as it is. And besides, it won’t take me two seconds.’
‘Tracey, please don’t.’
‘Why not? You think, as a mother of four daughters, I haven’t dealt with my fair share of bodily fluids?’ She stood, hands on hips, glaring at Olivia like a custard-covered bulldog. ‘Jesus, when they were all under six, there wasn’t a piece of me that wasn’t covered in some form of excrement.’
Olivia tried not to gag at the very disturbing image now planted in her head.
‘Not that that’s a thought you want to be having with an iffy stomach, but you get my drift.’ Tracey patted the edge of the mattress. ‘Now, bed, please, or I’ll have to use brute force, and we both know I’d crush you like a flea.’
Maybe it was delirium setting in, or the idea of Tracey wrestling Olivia dressed as a human banana, but Olivia did as she was told and nestled down under the covers.
‘Fine, but I’m not happy about this,’ she grunted petulantly, breathing in the clean smell of the freshly laundered sheets.
‘I’m sure you’re not’ – Tracey rummaged in one of the shopping bags and pulled out a pair of rubber gloves and a bottle of bleach – ‘but you’re going to have to deal with it.So buckle up and get comfy, kid, because it’s time you got a little TWC.’
‘Don’t you mean TLC?’
‘Nope, I mean TWC.’ She snapped the gloves over her hands and grinned. ‘You’re getting yourself some extra special Tracey Warwick Care.’
And care it certainly was. After cleaning the bathroom, Tracey had appeared with a tray full of goodies from the kitchen. There was fresh mint and ginger tea, some porridge, a pile of dry toast and …
‘Oh my god,’ Olivia gasped, looking down at the little bowl of mush.
‘What’s up, kiddo?’
‘Nothing, it’s just …’ She pulled it towards her. ‘Is this mashed-up banana?’
‘With milk and a bit of sugar, you got it! My girls used to go mad for this stuff.’
‘My sister did too.’
‘Oh, really?’
‘Yeah.’ The memory struck deep, and Olivia gripped the bowl harder.
‘Well then, I’m glad it wasn’t just my family who were a bunch of weirdos when it came to food.’ Tracey came to perch on the edge of the bed. ‘Oh, you should have seen some of the concoctions they would make. Harry always said I indulged them too much, let them play with their food rather than eat it. Silly bastard – always got so worked up over things. But I guess you can’t blame the guy for being on edge, living with five women. It takes a certain type of person to do that, I can tell you.’
‘Is Harry your husband?’
‘Was.’ Tracey paused, paying a bit too much attention to the corner of Olivia’s duvet cover. ‘Until he went and died on me last year.’
Olivia stopped with her spoon halfway to her mouth.
‘I’m so sorry.’ And she genuinely was. ‘How long were you together?’
‘Thirty-five years. We survived four kids, five house moves and one triple bypass, and then he goes and chokes on a cashew nut and pops his clogs. What an idiot! Couldn’t believe it when I got the phone call.’
‘A cashew nut?’ Olivia tried not to let her disbelief detract from the seriousness of the conversation.
‘I know! Who would have thought such a tiny thing could kill a big old slab of meat like my Harry. But life is full of surprises, isn’t it?’
‘That must have been quite a shock,’ Olivia whispered. ‘Again, I’m so sorry.’
‘Nah, you’re all right, kid. He had a good life. I mean, he was married to me, so some would say he was the luckiest man in the world!’ She chuckled, a note of sadness breaking through the bravado. ‘But yeah, after he passed, I told my girls … I said, I need to get away. I need to explore, clear my head, be somewhere nobody knows me. Where I don’t have to act a certain way or be a certain person.’
