Mina screwed up her nose. That was the sort of thing Hannah would worry about.
‘OK, maybe I’ll just fill it with lots of dead flies or something horrible.’
‘Where will you get—’
Mina nudged her sister. ‘Shut up. I’ll think of something while I’ve still got the keys to his flat. I’m not speaking to him at work and I’m going to completely ignore him.’ There was a leave-in hair mask he was rather partial to. Perhaps she could add to it – a leave-in hairdye. Blue, she’d heard, was very difficult to remove. The more she thought about it, the perkier her steps towards her adopted parents’ drive became.
‘Oh my God!’ Hannah stopped dead, putting a hand out to stop Mina.
‘Oh my God,’ repeated Mina, as they both stared at the For Sale sign outside their parents’ house.
‘They’re moving?’ Hannah shook her head. ‘Do you think they’re having a mid-life crisis or something?’
‘It must be a mistake,’ said Mina. ‘They’ll never move. They’ve never even talked about it before.’
Their adopted parents were the most change-averse people in the entire universe. Derek had worked in the same office for the last forty-five years and every single person that worked with him there adored him. Miriam had worked part-time for the newsagent on the other side of town since she was sixteen, even though it was two bus rides away, which Mina had never understood. Actually there was quite a lot about their adopted parents that neither girl understood, such as their complete disinterest in food, their preference for annual holidays in Eastbourne, dedication to routine: laundry on Monday and Wednesday, the food shop on Thursday, fish and chips every Friday (there’d been mild alarm when Our Plaice had been bought out and became Oh My Cod), and a trip to the park every Saturday morning.
At the same time there was also an awful lot to love. Miriam and Derek were the kindest, gentlest, and most generous people, even if they couldn’t make a decision to save their lives. When Hannah and Mina’s real parents drove off a cliff in Serbia, when they were two and three respectively, it never occurred to Miriam and Derek not to adopt their two orphaned nieces. Miriam had been ten years older than her sister, Georgie, and they were the original chalk and cheese – although from what Miriam said, it seemed that the more adventurous Georgie had been led astray by her daredevil husband, Stuart, from the minute she met him. Before having children they’d climbed the Eiger, white-water rafted on the Zambesi, bungy-jumped in Queenstown, and trekked in the Kalahari. Post-children, they’d restricted their activities to weekends in Europe, rally driving in Serbia, hanggliding in Bavaria, and mountain biking in the Pyrenees – and the childless Miriam and Derek had only been too happy to babysit.
She and Hannah stood on the threshold of the gravelled drive and looked up at the three-storey house, which she had to admit did need a little TLC these days. When had the paint on the window frames on the top floor started to crack and peel? And there were an awful lot of weeds establishing themselves in places they had no business to be.
‘It’s probably worth a fortune,’ said Hannah. Over the years the street had become gentrified.
‘I guess, but I never thought they’d move, and why haven’t they mentioned it?’
They sat around the faded, pale-blue Formica kitchen table, which was so old that it would probably sell well on Etsy as a retro item. The kitchen cabinets with their cream doors and plastic wood surrounds were circa 1970 and the oldest that Mina had ever seen. A museum might be prepared to take them as they were immaculate.
‘It’s a lovely surprise to see you both,’ said Miriam, her hands fluttering around the Hornsea pottery mug of builder’s tea. ‘I haven’t got anything in for supper though. We were going to have a couple of chicken fillets and chips. There might be a couple of Rich Tea biscuits somewhere.’
And that, thought Mina, said it all. Biscuits should be irresistible, and you should know exactly how many you had left because they’re so delicious you’ve been rationing yourself, and there should always be something in the cupboard you could throw together.
‘Don’t worry, Aunty M,’ said Hannah, kicking Mina under the table before she could say anything.
Not being able to feed someone was complete anathema to her.
‘It’s quite useful you popping round though,’ said Derek with a distinctly uncomfortable wriggle. He’d been fidgeting in his seat since they’d sat down.
‘Well, there’s a reason,’ said Mina, diving straight in, wanting to get it over with. ‘Simon and I have finished. I just wanted you to know before you read about in a national newspaper.’
‘Oh no, darling. That’s such a shame. He’s such a nice boy. Isn’t there anything you can do to patch things up? Are you sure it’s over, you’re not just overreacting?’ Mina shot a look over the table at her sister. Why did everyone automatically assume it had to be something to do with her?
‘He has been seeing Belinda behind my back,’ she said, proud of her restraint. The sentence deserved at least two expletives.
‘But why would he do that?’ Miriam looked genuinely perplexed.
‘Because he’s a two-timing, cheating bastard.’ Mina’s saccharine smile didn’t placate her mother.
‘Well, that’s a terrible shame.’ Her aunt’s fluttery hands plucked at the pattern on the mug in front of her.
Mina eyed them. Neither of them had picked up on the ‘national newspaper’ words.
‘Actually, we have something quite important to tell you,’ said Derek, as he and Miriam exchanged another one of those worried, panicky looks.
Mina stiffened. Was one of them ill? She looked with alarm at both their faces. She couldn’t bear it if anything happened to either of them. Her parents were a distant memory, but Miriam and Derek were the constants in her life, unstinting in their love and support. They were her real parents now.
‘We’ve decided to downsize. I’m going to take voluntary redundancy and we’re going to move to a bungalow.’
‘Wow, that’s a lot of change in one go for you two,’ said Mina, relief coursing through her as she ignored the warning glare Hannah sent her.
