"I'll go then," she said, staring at Rosa.
Now, it was the silence that screamed loudest.
Billy unzipped the case, flipped the lid open, and began pulling clothes from drawers and shoving them in, glancing at Rosa to check if she’d stop her.
When she was done and the bag was full, she heaved it off the bed.
"I'll be at—"
"I don't care…just go."
The door slammed and Rosa let her shoulders drop. She moved up the bed and leaned back against the pillows.
"We'll be alright, Immy. I promise." She kissed the small head, inhaling that innate baby smell as her lips brushed across fine dark hair. "We'll work it out."
Chapter one
Rosa Cafferty was already in a foul mood. Work had been long and stressful. She'd spent all afternoon chasing up information for best-selling author Roger Atherton’s new book. She'd thought the idea of being a research assistant sounded fun when she'd applied the previous year, and in all honesty, it was. But today, Roger decided he needed information on autopsies and dismembered body parts, which was a long way from the romance and erotica books Rosa read for her own pleasure.
"But Mum," Imogen whined for the third time that evening, "I don't understand what the big deal is. You and Billy get on great."
Rosa took a deep breath. Of course, to Imogen it looked like her parents got on great. They'd worked hard these past few years to make sure Imogen had a secure, loving, and non-battleground upbringing. She had no idea about the nights they'd screamed at each other until Rosa wept, or the times Billy had threatened to end it all and Rosa would spend hourstalking her down, seeking help, all whilst juggling the home and a newborn's needs.
"It's just not convenient, Immy. Three weeks’ notice? Besides, you've got your friends going with you and Billy will be there. You'll have a great time." She pulled her daughter close, kissing the side of her head and catching sight of them both in a reflection off the microwave.
It struck Rosa how much of Billy lived in her daughter's face. They'd clearly picked the right donor, because it was Rosa who had carried and birthed their only child, but the darker hair and strong cheekbones were so much like Billy it shocked Rosa at times. She'd fully expected their child to be a redhead, with herself being blonde, but that hadn’t been the case.
"I'm going to be sixteen—it's a big deal," Imogen continued. "And just once, I'd like to have a party where I remember both of my parents being there."
"We were both at your first four," Rosa argued, but even she felt the weakness of that argument. They were there—that part was true—on opposite sides of the room, not speaking unless they needed to.
Imogen stared at her with those big blue eyes she'd inherited from her side of the family. Rosa smiled to herself—at least that much of her had made it through to the next generation.
"Mum, please. I don't ask for much." Imogen had gone full-on with the manipulation—another trait of Billy's, Rosa noted. “Will you at least talk to Billy when she picks me up at the weekend?”
"I'll think about it, okay?" She smiled but didn't feel the joy of it. "What did you want for dinner?"
Imogen shrugged. "I had something at Robbie's aunt's place after school."
"I dunno how she's still in business, feeding all you kids every day."
Imogen laughed. "It's notevery day, and it's only me, Robbie, and Janka."
Rosa felt a flutter of gratitude. She'd gotten lucky with Imogen's friends. Robbie had been a bit of trouble at one point, but who could blame the poor kid, losing her parents in that awful plane crash and having her life turned upside down.
Rosa had worried the first time Imogen had brought her home, but maybe having a friend like Imogen was what Robbie had needed, especially when she was living with her gay aunt. Having a friend who’s family life was more like her own meant Imogen and Robbie had a connection others didn’t often understand.
Then Janka had arrived from Ukraine, and the three of them had become best buddies over one long, hot summer of lounging at the park and reading books Rosa was sure were not for their age range.
"Just don't take advantage. Everyone's feeling the pinch nowadays. I do have food in the cupboards—it's not like you're going to starve." Rosa's tone came out sharper than she'd intended, the day's exhaustion bleeding through.
Imogen laughed at that. "Nobody thinks you're starving me." She picked up an apple from the fruit bowl. "It's just easier. We do our homework together and then Georgia feeds us. We don't even ask—it just appears on the table."
"Well, the weather's turned and it's darker now, so maybe you can do your homework at home and I won't have to worry about you walking the streets."
"Oh my days, Mum, this is Amberfield. Literally nothing happens here."
"I know where we live, young lady. I also know that anything can happen, anywhere, so just be careful." Rosa's jaw tightened as she finished lecturing, her eyes locking onto Imogen's.
