‘Yes, that’s right.’ She laughed, setting my nerves on edge. ‘Are you jealous about that? Did you want my dad for yourself?’
‘You’re disgusting!’ I said, my voice shaking. ‘You’re a bullshitter. You always have been.’
She laughed cruelly.
‘You lie about everything!’ I cried. ‘About being adopted. About getting into university – because I imagine that’s a lie too. I don’t know who you are any more.’
The door opened then and Dean staggered in. He had the kind of grey complexion that looked unhealthy. He was holding a can of lager.
‘All right, Kirsty,’ he said, winking at me.
I tried to keep my face impassive but I wanted to recoil.
He wagged a finger at me. He was clearly off his head. ‘The trouble with you is that you’re a snob,’ he slurred. ‘Ain’t she, babe? She thinks she’s better than us.’ He went over to Selena and threw an arm around her neck. She leaned into him, while shooting an evil stare in my direction.
They were ganging up on me. I felt bullied. Selena, who was always on my side, had turned against me. Because of him.
Why had she said that thing about Uncle Owen?
She was bound to apologize. We’d never rowed like that before. She opened her mouth, her eyes narrowed. Flashing. ‘Yeah, why don’t you fuck off?’ she spat, snaking her arm around his waist. ‘Fuck off back to your perfect little life.’
I stared at her, hurt that she could be so poisonous to me after everything we’d been through. Then I turned and ran from the room.
12
The last guests turn up late, gone eight o’clock. They step into the hallway in macs and wellies and I try not to show surprise at how young they are. They can’t be more than about eighteen. The boy is tall and gangly with mousy hair and freckles. The girl is pretty, with curly dark hair and big blue eyes. She blushes and steps behind him slightly.
‘Um, we, um, booked a room. Under Toby Wilson,’ the boy says, his face turning so red that his freckles are obscured.
‘Of course,’ I say, trying to remain professional when, really, I want to ask them if their parents know where they are. I ask him to fill in a registration form, then show them to the bedroom we’ve named Tulip.
‘Please let me know if you need anything,’ I say, and they both nod eagerly but I can tell they want me to leave.
I’m glad that everyone has checked in, although I can’t relax. Each guest has a key to the front door as well as their room in case they want to go out, but the thought of people coming and going until God knows when does worry me.
I long to lounge in front of the television in my dressing-gown but I can hear that the Greyson family are in the living room,Strictly Come Dancingblaring. I love that programme but haven’t had the chance to get into it this year. Will I ever get used to strangers using this house as though it’s their own?
Adrian is perched at the kitchen island with a newspaper spread in front of him, the ceiling lights shining on the hair that is thinning at the back of his head. He has dark circles around his eyes, one of which is still bloodshot. The girls are next to him, with freshly washed hair, smelling of fruity shampoo and bath bombs. They’re sipping hot chocolate, huddled in their dressing-gowns, Evie’s legs, still too short to reach the bar of the stool, swinging. Looking at them, the people I love more than anything in the world, I can almost forget we have strangers in the house. Mum has gone up to bed and I try not to feel irritated that she’s thought nothing of leaving me to see to everything. I know we need to discuss the ground rules, because I go from thinking she’s taking over at one minute and not doing enough the next.
There are two vacant rooms ready for last-minute bookings. I need to speak to Adrian about locks for our bedrooms in the attic, but I don’t want to bring it up now in front of the girls. I won’t give Evie another reason to have nightmares.
‘Do you think I need to go in and speak to them?’ I say to Adrian, as I hover by the kettle.
‘Just leave them,’ says Adrian, without looking up from the newspaper.
I’d never expected to feel like this. I’d made the mistake of using this house as a home and now I feel that my space has been invaded. We’d usually sit in the playroom but felt uncomfortable as soon as Janice wandered in with a wet Horace, saying she’d been caught in the rain giving him his last walk of the evening. We had planned to use it just for the girls, but I hadn’t the heart to tell Janice it was out of bounds. Maybe that needs a lock too.
‘I want to watch TV before bed,’ says Evie, putting her cup down and looking at me beseechingly. She has a chocolate moustache.
‘Yes,’ hisses Amelia. ‘It’s not fair that we’re stuck in here and everyone else is in our living space.’ I smile to myself. Living space. It’s the sort of thing my mum would say. ‘And they have TVs in their bedrooms. Why are they down here too?’
‘Be quiet. They’ll hear you,’ I say, putting a finger to my lips. ‘We’re just trying to work it all out. Okay? This is the first weekend with guests. Maybe we can do something about the playroom. Make it off limits?’ I look towards Adrian. He’s still immersed in the newspaper. ‘Ade?’ He looks up. ‘Locks. On the playroom maybe. Then the girls can have somewhere private to go.’
‘What’s wrong with their bedrooms?’ He looks up, rubbing his beard, his eyes searching out the newspaper again.
‘We don’t have a TV upstairs,’ points out Amelia, ‘because you won’t let us have one.’
This last statement is aimed at me. I’m about to retaliate when Selena wafts into the kitchen in a cloud of perfume. I haven’t seen her since our conversation earlier. She’s wearing the long white nightdress she had on last night. It shows off her tanned arms, and as she walks towards me I can see the outline of her underwear. Adrian looks up from his newspaper.
