‘Can I have one?’ Bertie shouted.
‘In a minute.’ Her dad winked at him.
‘What’s this then?’ He took a stiff yellow gift bag into his hands and struggled with the silky black ribbon that formed a generous bow. Ashleigh’s gift, obviously. She felt Midge staring at her and knew ordinarily she’d turn to face him, and he’d widen his eyes as if to say, ‘wonder how much that cost ...’ and she’d smile at him. But with Ashleigh’s words still ringing in her thoughts, her apparentunhappiness, and all they’d discussed, she didn’t want to do that. Not at all.
‘Fancy shower gel? Well I never!’
‘It’s Acqua di Parma,’ Ashleigh enunciated. Remy looked straight at Midge and pulled a face,I mean, come on!
‘Is that right?’ Her dad nodded, clearly no clue as to the value or brand. ‘Your mum gets me the stuff I like from Aldi. What’s the flavour I have, Ruthie?’
‘Oh, it’s like a spicy smell, very nice.’
‘And about fifty pence a bottle,’ her dad added.
‘Fifty pence?’ Ashleigh’s voice was shrill. ‘How can shower gel that costs fifty pence be any good for your skin?’ She was clearly rankled. Remy could only assume that the gift wrap alone on his present had set her back nearly a tenner.
‘What do you think shower gel is, love?’ He looked at Ashleigh in earnest. ‘It’s only water with a splash of chemicals and some smelly stuff shoved in! All of it. You should look at the ingredients, and I guarantee they are all mostly water! I mean, they might tart it up by saying H2o or aqua or some other such rubbish, but it’s all water at the end of the day.’
‘Did they not teach you that at St. Jude’s?’ Midge piped up, and Ashleigh scratchedhercheek with her middle finger, giving her brother-in-law the subtle, childish and funny sign. Remy felt her stomach roll with anxiety at the topic, which seemed to be all around her today, or maybe that was just her sensitivity to it.
Midge laughed and retreated to the kitchen to make tea.
‘Well, now I know!’ Ashleigh folded her arms across her chest.
‘That’s from us, Dad.’ Remy spoke as he lifted a white envelope and rattled it next to his ear.
‘Gift voucher?’ he asked.
‘Yep.’ She wished she weren’t so predictable.
‘Garden centre or B&Q?’
‘Garden centre.’
‘Smashing. I need a bag of compost.’
Marvellous . . .
‘Do you still get that staff discount?’
‘No, Dad, I worked there nearly twenty years ago! And yet you still ask me!’
‘Twenty years, a blink ...’ Ashleigh spoke directly to her, her words spiked with lament.
‘Yep, a blink . . .’
‘Say thank you, Dennis!’ her mum prompted.
‘Thank you, Dennis.’ Her dad spoke on cue and winked at Remy.
‘Honestly! You get dafter with age!’ Ruthie tutted, but her expression was one of love.
‘What are we having for supper?’ Her dad looked at his watch.
‘Supper?’ Ashleigh shot a look at her sister and they both gave the small smile that meant they knew exactly what the other was thinking.
‘You’ve only just had your lunch!’ Her mum trumpeted their thoughts. ‘You can’t be hungry, Den!’
