‘I know you drove my best friend into the arms of another man,’ she said angrily. ‘I know your own kids have nothing to do with you. I know?—’
‘I think you should go.’ He picked up his mobile phone. ‘I’ll call you a taxi.’
Stella picked up her plate and hurled it across the kitchen. Mac stared at the smashed china and the mess of chocolate sponge on the floor, then at her. There was a silence, only broken when he realised Carne was rushing over to investigate the situation and that he might try to eat the remains of the cake.
He grabbed the little dog and tucked Mrs Beddows under his other arm, shutting them in the living room. Then he took out a dustpan and brush and began to sweep up the mess.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, sounding a bit shell-shocked.
‘Maybe you should go home,’ he told her. ‘Things have got a bit fraught, and we’re not going to get anywhere today. Maybe another time, when you’re more clear-headed?’
She scowled. ‘I’m perfectly clear-headed. Are you going to sell this place or not? To me or to Gavin, I don’t care which.’
He stood up, the dustpan in his hand, and met her challenging look with one of defiance.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry, Stella, but I’m not. Not ever.’
‘Right.’ She got to her feet and dragged on her hat, scarf and gloves. ‘Then I’ll see you in court.’
Mac laughed. ‘Court? You’ve got no chance of winning a court case.’
‘Watch me. I’ll hire the best solicitor I can afford, and I can afford averygood one.’
‘You’d just be throwing your money away,’ he told her.
‘Well,’ she snapped, her eyes flashing, ‘you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?’
He let her go. She collected her coat from the hallway and went outside, slamming the door after her. No doubt she’d go to the pub and call a taxi from there. He just hoped she wouldn’t have anything else to drink. He’d call Sam in half an hour and check that she’d got into a cab safely.
What a day! So much for putting things right between himself and Stella. He couldn’t help thinking that, this time, maybe he’d lost his sister for good.
21
Saturday 14 March – Project Alison Day 42: It’s Poppy’s birthday party today. There’s going to be posh sandwiches and birthday cake and probably sausage rolls. I love a sausage roll. How am I going to get through this then? Oh, and I’m seeing Jenna and the twins. Just another day. Nothing to worry about at all, right? Feel like I’m being punished for something but can’t quite figure out what. Must have been a troll in a previous life.
No amount of pretty stickers and washi tape had made today’s entry look any less terrifying to Alison. She was about to see her daughter and granddaughters for the first time in well over a month, and on top of that she was facing all sorts of temptations at a birthday party, and no doubt her parents would make absolutely sure that everyone knew she was diabetic and mustn’t, on any account, eat anything ‘bad’.
They’d gone on and on about it that night she and Mac had gone round to Sanderlings for tea. It had been mortifying, not to mention annoying. Seeing the three of them tucking into chicken tikka masala with mountains of rice, while she had half the amount of curry dolloped on to a bed of wilting baby spinach – and no chance of a naan bread either – had been almost too much to bear, but when Mam brought out the cheesecake and Dad handed her a pot of natural yoghurt to eat instead she’d almost cried.
She might have done if Mac hadn’t been there. In fact, if hehadn’tbeen there, she’d probably have ended up sneaking into the kitchen and stuffing her face with cheesecake anyway. But hehadbeen there, so she didn’t dare risk it. Which, looking back, she was very glad about.
He’d clearly been embarrassed that she couldn’t eat what the rest of them were eating, and had looked so awkward about the whole thing that she’d ended up assuring him quite heartily that she didn’t mind a bit, and had been really looking forward to her reduced-to-clear vegetables and reduced-to-clear yoghurt, which tasted so sour she wasn’t sure it was even safe to eat.
Mac had walked her home after tea at her parents’. He’d insisted upon continuing with her as they reached the gates of Watersmeet, even though she’d pointed out it was only a short walk up the road from there and she’d be fine. She never felt unsafe in Kelsea Sands. He’d been so quiet at first that she’d worried the whole evening had been a disaster, but when she’d tried to apologise, he’d looked horrified that she thought his low mood was down to her or her family.
‘It’s Stella,’ he’d explained. ‘She came to see me earlier and things didn’t go very well. Honestly, it has nothing to do with you. I really enjoyed tonight.’ He’d smiled at her, making her heart skip. ‘Reallyenjoyed it.’
‘Are you ready?’ Rosie popped her head round the bedroom door, cutting into her thoughts. ‘We’re supposed to be setting off in a minute. We don’t want to be late. Mam would rather die than let Kendra down.’
Alison rolled her eyes and stood, wriggling around uncomfortably.
‘Get you, wearing tights!’ Rosie said admiringly. ‘You look lovely, Ali. I can’t remember the last time I saw you in a dress.’
‘I can’t remember the last time I wore one,’ she admitted. ‘It’s been stuffed in my wardrobe for about two years, cos it got a bit tight, and where do I ever go to wear a dress these days?’
Realising she had nothing suitable to wear for Poppy’s party, she’d called home after work one evening to rummage through her clothes and find something that didn’t look too scruffy or too much like it was cutting off her circulation. The dress had caught her eye because it was covered in poppies, and seemed appropriate for Poppy’s party, but she hadn’t really believed she’d get into it.
When she found that it fitted her comfortably, she’d almost whooped with excitement. On impulse, she’d rushed to the bathroom and pulled out the scales, wondering how much weight she’d lost, because surely she must have lostsomething?
