The week ended without incident—at least, nothing Matty cared to mention.
Gloria’s complaining eased. Dinner was on the table. ‘How was your day?’was asked and answered, and then Matty would leave and Sloan was left to decipher what she was feeling about it all.
Something felt different in the Slater house, and it was all down to Matty.
It was finally Saturday, and Sloan could breathe. No work alarm had been set to jolt her awake. She rose with the sun shining through the window and made her way down to the kitchen to put the kettle on and make her mother’s breakfast.
She was halfway through the task when she heard the whirring of the stairlift on its way down. Sloan poked her head out of the kitchen just in time to see Gloria begin the slow shuffle down the hall.
“The hippie isn’t this slow,” she grumbled. “Could starve to death waiting for you.”
“Morning, Mum,” Sloan said, catching herself before her eyes could roll. “Sleep well?”
“I suppose so,” Gloria answered, turning into the lounge. “I’ll have strawberry.”
“Not sure we’ve got any left,” Sloan informed her, dipping back in to rifle through the cupboard.
“We have. The hippie brought some with her yesterday,” Gloria called out, then added, “At least someone notices what I need.”
This time, Sloan did let hereyes roll.
***
The doorbell rang at midday, exactly as planned. Sloan opened it with gusto and smiled broadly at her friend, Eleanor.
“Long time no see, stranger.” Eleanor smiled and stepped inside, straight into Sloan’s arms, Sloan hugging her tightly.
“I know, it’s been too long. Entirely my fault,” Sloan said as she pulled back. “But I’m hopeful things might be on the up now and I’ll have more time.”
"That's good." Eleanor's eyes caught hers with a familiar glint. "You know, we all miss you at the club nights."
“Trust me, I’m painfully aware of that...”
“Oh?” Eleanor raised a brow. “Something you want to talk about?”
Sloan hesitated, then glanced at the living room door. “Not here.”
“Intriguing.” Eleanor paced forward, moving down the hallway until she came to the doorway of the lounge. She tapped gently on the open door and entered the room. “Gloria, how are you?”
Gloria looked up from her magazine. “Oh, I thought you were the hippie.”
Eleanor grinned. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“Mother, I’ve told you, her name is Matty—not ‘the hippie’,” Sloan said. “And she doesn’t work weekends.”
“I’ll call her what I like,” Gloria said, turning back to her magazine.
Sloan ignored her. “We’re going to be in the garden having our lunch. Would you like to join us?”
“And listen to you two prattle on all day? No, thank you. I’m watching a film.” Gloria fingered the remote and dragged it closer. “Go on. Bugger off.”
Eleanor gave Sloan a look, and Sloan again rolled her eyes. “Lunch?”
“Wine,” Sloan answered. “Definitely wine.”
They carried plates and Tupperware out to the garden table. The wine cooler was already there, with a bottle of a decent Chablis chilling beside two glasses that sparkled in the sun.
“So, Gloria and the hippie... I feel there’s a story there,” Eleanor said as they sat down and began to sort food on their plates.
