‘Why would they break the habit of a lifetime?’ Rosie shook her head. ‘Our Jenna wants a good talking-to. I’ve a good mind to go round there myself.’
‘No, just leave it.’ Alison sighed. ‘I’m really sorry you had to come all this way to sort me out, Rosie. I shouldn’t have got so upset.’
‘You were bound to be upset, with Joel pushing his way in and yelling at you like that and saying all those awful things. And thinking Jenna blamed you for Drew’s death – which I don’t believe, by the way. I think that prat Joel’s just found your weak spot and gone for it. All that on top of finding out about your diabetes. It’s a lot, isn’t it?’
‘Too much,’ Alison admitted. ‘I just keep crying and that’s not like me at all. I haven’t really cried much at all since…’
‘Well, not surprising. You cried so much then you must have used up all your supply of tears.’ Rosie eyed her sadly. ‘I’m sorry you’re having such a rough time of it, Ali. It’s not fair.’
‘I’m scared,’ Alison admitted.
‘Of Joel? Don’t be scared of that long streak of piss. I’ll dropkick him into the River Hull. See how he likes that.’
Alison smiled, knowing that her cousin was the least violent person imaginable, and was clearly just trying to cheer her up. Alison loved her for it.
‘Of the diabetes,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s not a laughing matter, is it?’
‘No,’ Rosie said, the humour in her eyes fading. ‘It’s not. But it’s reversible, that’s what the nurse said, didn’t she? So reverse it then.’
‘What if I can’t? You know how many times I’ve tried to diet before, and it never works. What if I can’t stick to it?’
‘Youwillstick to it because you know what’s at stake,’ Rosie said confidently.
‘But when I’m here in the evenings I find myself picking at rubbish,’ Alison admitted. ‘Even when I’m not hungry.’
‘So don’t buy anything. If there’s nothing in the cupboards you can’t eat it,’ Rosie said reasonably.
‘It’s not that simple. I can get a delivery of just about anything these days. One tap on my phone and I can order crisps, sausage rolls, sweets, ice cream, burgers…’ She waved a hand at the paper bag stuffed full of their empty wrappers and bags. ‘I’m so weak-willed.’
‘You need someone to keep an eye on you,’ Rosie said, nodding.
Alison hesitated. ‘I don’t suppose…’
‘What?’ Rosie shook her head. ‘Aw, no love. I can’t move in here for three months! I mean, I’ve got work. You know my shifts are all over the place like yours, and I’m here, there and everywhere. It would never work.’
That was true. Apart from cleaning at The North Star early most mornings, Rosie did a few evening shifts at a fish and chip shop in Millensea, and when Tide’s Reach reopened, she’d be cleaning at Time and Tide, the clubhouse on site, straight after her shifts at the pub as well.
‘Yeah, of course. Daft idea.’
Rosie pulled at a thread on the seam of her jeans. ‘Mind you, there is an easier solution,’ she said. ‘You can come back with me to Kelsea Sands.’
Alison laughed, until it dawned on her that Rosie wasn’t joking.
‘There’s no room for me,’ Alison said, as her cousin gave her an intense look that told her she was deadly serious. ‘Mam and Dad have turned my old room into a junk room. It would take months to clear that out, even if they let me get rid of anything. You know what they’re like.’
‘Not with your mam and dad,’ Rosie said. ‘With me!’
She sounded full of excitement and enthusiasm, while Alison stared at her, wondering if she’d lost the plot.
‘But you live in a caravan.’
Rosie gave her an indignant look. ‘A bloody luxury caravan, might I remind you. I ploughed every penny I had into that place. It’s a little palace.’
After Rosie and Craig had decided to go their separate ways, they’d sold their house in Sheffield, and with Rosie’s share of the proceeds she’d bought the caravan outright. Her parents had been horrified, warning her that it was a terrible investment, and reminding her that caravans began to lose their value the minute they were purchased.
‘Save the money to use as a deposit on a house when you’re working,’ Uncle Christopher had advised her, but Rosie wouldn’t listen. She didn’t want a mortgage, even if she could get one, which wasn’t a certainty, and she didn’t trust landlords either, so didn’t want to rent. Not that there were any houses to rent in Kelsea Sands, and very few ever came up for sale. Rosie was adamant that she wanted to live in her old village and be close to her family again.
‘I’ve missed it so much,’ she’d told Alison. ‘There were times when my heart literally ached for the place. I’m not going up to Weltringham or Millensea or further inland. I want to be in Kelsea Sands, and a caravan’s my best option for that.’
