‘We’ve been chucked out the club and they told us never to go back,’ Essie sighed.
‘We’re barred!’ Ruby echoed in disbelief. ‘Can you believe that?’
For some reason their horror at something so seemingly minor in comparison to the shitstorm that was her life struck her as funny and a small giggle stuttered from her before building into laughter that Essie and Ruby matched. Pretty soon, all three howled their laughter, wiping tears and clinging to each other as they fell back on to the damp grass of the verge.
‘It’s Friday night!’ Essie yelled between their laughter. ‘And we’re lying in a ditch!’
This set them all off again.
Eventually Domino sat up and wiped her face with the back of her palm. Enough. Enough tears, enough sadness. Essie was right. It was Friday night, they were young and pretty, and life was for living! This was far better than letting any deep-seated worries over her family situation drag her down. She would bury her melancholy under a neat padding of vodka, laughter and music.
‘Will someone please give me some booze and a fucking cigarette!’ she boomed into the night sky.
CHAPTER EIGHT
LISAHARROP
Lisa Harrop glanced at the clock on the bedside table; it had just gone eleven o’clock. She had listened to Daisy climb the stairs and felt her shoulders slump against the pillows, resting easier knowing her daughter was home safely. It worried her, her little girl travelling about on the roads on that rickety old bike. She had read some terrible stories in recent years about cyclists sideswiped and crushed under lorries or injured when they fell and hit their heads.
The TV was on in the bedroom, it was company for her of sorts; a visual machine that helped eat up the seconds, minutes, hours of time that she was keen to kill. She liked the flickering blue of the lights, even though the sound was turned off and she had no idea what she was watching – a cop show of some description, but whether real or fiction it was hard to tell.
Lying back on the mattress she looked up at the ceiling where a water splat from the leaking header tank some months ago had formed an image that she thought looked similar to a map. It was her favourite thing to do: stare at the watermark until her eyes closed, transporting herself to a hot country where she would live a beach life, eat well, throw on shorts and walk outdoors. A placefar away from this house and this life that held her in its grip like a fly caught in a treacle pot trap of her own making.
No, that was unfair. Marty, Jake and Daisy had not trapped her; more like she had fallen into the treacle pot and didn’t know how to climb out. This thought alone was enough to encourage tears to fall across her temple, travelling over her sore eyes, railing against the constant trickle of salt on her skin. It was so very tiring, being this low.
Her bedroom door creaked open, and she recognised the outline of her daughter, standing in silhouette.
‘Mum? Are you awake?’
‘Yes.’ She sat up and tucked her hair behind her ears. ‘Everything okay?’ It was unusual for her girl to disturb her, to enter her room like this. Realisation of this was like a punch to her throat. How far they had slipped off course, to the point where for her daughter to simply enter her room felt like a big deal. This thought ladled guilt on to her already fractured self-esteem. It felt like a mere blink ago that young Daisy, Jake too, would bound in and jump up on to the bed, snuggling next to her, their little heads – mussed and fresh from sleep – close to hers on the pillow. They were nearly always clutching books or soft toys, wanting stories or to chat about nothing much in their sweet burbling tones ... How she missed it. How she wished she could go back to then.
‘Yes, everything’s okay.’ Daisy walked further in and sat on the end of the bed.
Lisa smiled. She could see the outline of Daisy’s nose, reminding her so powerfully of her dad it made her heart jump.
‘I just wanted to tell you something,’ her little girl whispered, almost in reverence of the dark and late hour.
‘What is it, my love? Is it about the tree? Because I already know. Read the letter when I nipped downstairs for a glass of water. I knew you’d be upset. But not sure there’s a whole lot we can doabout it. I guess we could write a letter, complain, get involved, but more often than not it seems that once the council have made a decision ...’
‘It wasn’t about the tree, but yes, that has made me really sad. I can’t think they’ll actually do it, Mum. Can’t believe they’d chop something down that’s so old and so beautiful. What would Four Oaks look like without one of the trees?’
Lisa noted the way her daughter’s chest rose and fell. ‘Don’t worry about it, darling. There’s no point worrying about anything until you have to.’ Oh, the irony! It was so easy to give this advice and yet she worried abouteverythingbefore it happened, playing out the very worst scenario based on no more than what ifs ... Her words made her a hypocrite, and this too only served to take her mood lower and add to her feelings of worthlessness.
‘I guess.’ Daisy picked at the quilt cover. ‘But I think weshouldwrite a letter, complain and get involved. If everyone did, it might make them reconsider what’s best for the tree, the area, everything.’
‘It might. Let’s have a think about it,’ was the best she could manage, wary of yet again making false promises that she knew could only further damage the trust between them. It can’t have been easy for her kids, knowing she would let them down.
Daisy sat up straight and smiled. ‘What I wanted to tell you was that I got a huge tip tonight, the biggest I’ve ever had! Like, enough to get my bike done up, probably get a new bike! Not a new new one, but you know.’
Lisa could hear the joy in her voice and loved that her girl was so grounded that with spare cash, the best she could think of was to upgrade her bike.
‘That’s brilliant! I’m sure you deserved it. You work hard for Gia and Carlo, they’re lucky to have you.’
‘I kind of feel lucky to have them. Guess how much it was.’
She didn’t want to embark on a guessing game, felt wiped out at the prospect, but this was Daisy and she loved her and the least she could do was play along. ‘Oh, I don’t know, twenty pounds?’
‘More!’ Her daughter sounded excited.
