She jumped on the bus back into the city, but instead of staying on until she reached home, she decided to take a detour past Mandy’s office and give her the envelope that she’d tucked into her handbag this morning in case her daughter was at the cemetery. Nancy had her doubts about whether or not it would be welcome, but after her conversation with Nancy, she’d decided to go for it.
What was the worst that could happen?
Mandy could decline the invitation and they’d be exactly where they were now – like distant relatives who’d lost their connection a long time ago.
She was just passing a café two doors along from Mandy’s office when she saw a familiar face in the window. Mandy was sitting there, staring into her mug, looking as downcast as Netta had ever seen her. Netta immediately felt her heart begin to thud. When Mandy hadn’t answered her call earlier, Netta had assumed it would be because her daughter was rushed off her feet, but she certainly didn’t look frantically busy now.
Netta pushed the door open and went in, moving quickly between the busy tables until she reached the mournful woman in the corner at the window.
‘Mandy?’
Her daughter’s look of horror when she glanced up and saw Netta standing there sent a lump straight to Netta’s throat.
‘Mandy, love, are you okay?’
For the first time since she was a little girl, Netta saw two tears escape Mandy’s eyes and roll down her cheeks.
‘No, Mum, I’m not. I’m really not.’
11
KIKI
The whole way from the bus stop to the boutique, Ava barely said a word, and Kiki knew it was because she was experiencing way more negative emotions than a sixteen-year-old should be expected to handle. Ava was nervous about tonight. Stressed that she’d still had no contact from her dad. Worried about finding the money for the private acting and vocal lessons that were giving some of her friends such an advantage. And Kiki also felt – oh, her heart – that Ava was trying to mask how she was feeling because she didn’t want to add any more woes to her mum’s life.
Kiki saw the red flags. When she was Ava’s age, she’d been the parent for a mother who couldn’t take care of herself, never mind her own child. Couldn’t keep her safe. Didn’t want to look after her. Since she’d had her daughter, she’d been determined that history wouldn’t repeat itself, so she’d always tried to make sure that Ava knew she was supported. But seeing the slump of her daughter’s shoulders, Kiki didn’t feel that she was doing the best job of it right now.
It was almost a relief when they got to the boutique and Ava automatically put on a beaming smile to greet Dinah, the owner. Kiki had been working here part-time for a couple of years now, and Dinah had never minded her bringing Ava along to sit in the back office. She’d even given Ava a few shifts during the Christmas rush the previous year, and Ava was hopeful that she’d need her again soon to cover summer holidays. Her daughter wasn’t afraid of hard work, but Kiki was hesitant to allow it because it would detract from the time she’d be able to spend at the Academy. When it was being built, they’d walked past it every day, Ava’s excitement building at the prospect of having somewhere she could develop her love of performing. It had been the happiest day of her life when she’d been accepted to study there, and since then, it had become her world. She went in early and stayed late to rehearse, and Kiki wasn’t going to ask her to give that up, especially now that other students were having those additional private lessons on top of their Academy training.
Dinah welcomed them with her usual cheery smile. This boutique was her baby, her passion to replace the empty nest she’d been left with when her children had gone off to college and her workaholic husband had refused to cut down his hours. She’d built up a solid clientele and booming online store, and if she wasn’t serving clients, she was making social media reels to promote the new lines or scouring her suppliers’ websites for cool new products to buy in.
‘Ah, you’re here! Smashing. Right, I just need to pop downstairs…’ The basement level was where all the extra stock was kept… ‘And pick out the products for all the online orders. It’s been mad this week. Feels like half the world is traveling to Dubai. All my kaftans and floaty dresses are completely sold out, and I never want to see another Birkenstock dupe until the end of time.’
A desperate need for money aside, this was why Kiki loved working here – sometimes it was good to remember that there was a whole world out there that was thinking about floaty dresses for their holidays.
Kiki put her bag into the little office behind the main shop and took her position behind the counter. ‘On you go, I’ve got this. If you need help with the packaging just holler – Ava is going to hang out here for a couple of hours too.’
Dinah bustled off just as a couple of older women came in and began to peruse the swimwear rack.
‘Welcome, ladies. Just let me know if you need a hand with anything,’ Kiki offered.
‘If you could find us bikinis that are bigger than three teabags strung together, hen, that would be just dandy.’
Laughing, Kiki stepped in and after checking out every bikini in the store, the ladies finally left happy with two forties-style, movie-star swimsuits, in blue and white stripes, with full coverage, push-up tops and control-tummy bottoms.
When the shop was empty again, Kiki popped her head into the office, where Ava was now helping Dinah pack up a pile of beach bags.
‘I stole her to help me,’ Dinah confessed. ‘Be right back. Just need to go downstairs for more of these.’ She held up a clear travel bag that she was giving away free with every purchase this month.
‘Any word from Dad, babe?’ Kiki hated to ask, but this was weighing on them both and if Kev didn’t kick in soon, she was going to have to be the one who took care of it.
Ava checked her phone, then shook her head. ‘Nothing.’
‘Okay, not to worry. Hopefully we’ll hear soon.’
Shit. Kiki had always made it a policy not to criticise Kev in front of her daughter, but, bloody hell, right now she just wanted to open the shop door and shout about what a selfish fucker he was to the rest of the street.
Back in the main shop, she took her phone out of her pocket. Still no answer to her text. She called him, and when it went to voicemail, called him again. Still no answer. Goddamn him. Aberdeen was four hours away by car or train – if he wasn’t already on his way, then he wasn’t going to get here on time. And that meant no dad at the show.
