Harriet was waiting sheepishly by the school gate when she arrived, and the lovely Lyndall winced when she saw the state Clem was in. ‘It’s the first hot day in ages, you must be crook to be so bundled up, you poor thing. You’ll look after her, won’t you Harri?’
Harriet nodded. ‘And you look after yourself too, Miss Lyndall. I hope you have a super great weekend.’
Even in Clem’s flu-ridden state, she saw Lyndall’s face falter. ‘Everything okay?’
The young teacher fanned her face, blinking furiously at the sky. ‘Oh crap, don’t get me started. Kyle and I broke up. Again.’
Clem made an apologetic face and sent Harriet next door to the daycare centre. She’d called ahead, begging them to bend the pick-up rules just this once. ‘I hope you smooth it over.’
Lyndall’s red eyes met Clem’s. ‘I’m an idiot. I believed him when he said he was playing poker with his mates, and I took him back once again, swallowing his apologies and promises that I was the only girl for him. I should never have trusted him, shouldn’t have ignored that niggling doubt in my stomach, and I definitely shouldn’t have fallen in love with the bastard.’
The hair on the back of Clem’s arms prickled, and even though the sun was shining and she had the heater running on high, she felt colder than ever. She zipped her jacket all the way up to her chin, trying to shake off the feeling she might be burying her head in the sand too.
She sank lower in her seat when Ian and Louisa Brealy spotted her across the daycare car park, but they waved and headed her way.
Did they have any inkling about her and their son-in-law? She hoped not.
‘We missed you today,’ Ian said. ‘Popped in to top up your honey supply and your offsider said you were crook.’
Clem put on a brave face, hoping they wouldn’t notice her snotty jacket sleeve, or the pyjamas underneath. She was grateful when Harriet emerged from the daycare centre holding Indi’s hand. Gasps followed in her little girl’s wake.
‘Goodness, Indi,’ Ian said, squatting until he was eye-level with the little girl, ‘that’s some very inventive colouring you’ve done.’
‘Do you like my make-up?’ Indi giggled her cheekiest giggle. ‘The daycare lady said a bad word, and she tried to wipe it off but it didn’t all go.’
Louisa’s eyes sparkled with amusement. ‘I bet.’
Harriet gave an unimpressed sigh and helped her little sister into the car. Clem wiped her dripping nose on her sleeve again.
‘She’ll slow down when she hits primary school, that’s what happened with our Belle,’ Ian said. ‘She never missed an opportunity to get into mischief. Then we turned around twice and she was all grown up and getting married.’
Clem was already having trouble handling Spencer and the bikini-clad Emily smooching in a jacuzzi while he was also dating the other blonde ladies. Now she had a visual of his dead wife as a little girl, then her and Spencer’s wedding day. Another woman who owns a piece of Spencer’s heart.
They’re trying to be kind,she reminded herself.
‘We’re all strapped in, Mum,’ Harriet said. ‘Let’s get you home and into bed.’
Clem couldn’t have loved that idea any more if she tried, and when Ian put a hand on her door, she felt like smacking it.
Can’t you see I’m not in a chatty mood? Is the snotty red nose not enough?
‘Harri’s right, I’ve got to get back to bed.’
‘Not with that tyre, you’re not,’ Ian said. ‘Park up, we’ll take you home and we can get it fixed tomorrow.’
Clem felt like crying.Anotherflat tyre? Had someone been lining the roads with nails?
But when she traipsed back into the house after thanking the Brealys for the lift, shivering in her fluffy slippers andbeyond caring that her PJs were most definitely on display, she received a text that delivered yet another blow.
‘Who is it Mum, is it Uncle Jack? Is he coming to make us pancakes for dinner?’
Clem tossed the phone onto the bench. The message was a tip-off from a friend in Narradarra. Not only had she missed out on their canteen catering contract, but it had gone to Marco at Brew Haven, who’d come in cheaper on every single item she’d quoted.
Spencer arrived home to find Ian standing in the driveway at South Giddi Giddi beside a Lexus and a smarmy-looking schmuck.
Dolly bustled up as Spencer grabbed his laptop, lunch box and marking papers from the back seat, and he took an extra moment to pat her as he tried to get a read on the visitor.
The bloke had boots polished to a mirror-like sheen, a sports jacket with patches on the elbows and the least subtle hair dye Spencer had seen in a long time. He laughed when he found out the man was a real estate agent.
