Jenna stayed at Sanderlings for a couple of hours, feeling cocooned in the warmth of the loving bond between her grandparents. She listened to their endless banter, interspersed with genuine words of affection, drank three cups of tea, surrendered to Grandad’s plea for her to eat one of his chocolates, watched a little bit of television with them, and promised faithfully to bring the twins along within the next day or two.
She left, soundly hugged by both, and with a feeling of contentment and something that felt suspiciously like happiness.
Waving goodbye, she headed back up the road, noticing that a few couples were now sitting on the picnic benches outside the pub, nursing drinks and chatting easily to each other. Through the open windows of the bar, she could hear the noisy conversation and occasional bursts of laughter. There was a sense of wellbeing in the air, and she realised she hadn’t felt so relaxed in what seemed like forever.
In her pocket, her phone beeped. Probably her mum asking if everything was okay or telling her that the twins were safely settled in bed.
It was the first time she hadn’t immediately wondered if it was Joel. The first time her stomach hadn’t lurched with shock and trepidation. She smiled at the realisation and took her phone out to read the message.
It was from Joel.
Where the hell are you?
That was it. Nothing else. Jenna’s smile vanished and her spirits sank as she crossed the road to lean on the railings, gazing out over the muddy foreshore and the river beyond.
Why did he have to spoil things? She’d almost,almostforgotten that he’d be at their house collecting his belongings. Somehow, with her grandparents chattering on, she’d managed to push it to the back of her mind. Now it was all there at the forefront of her thoughts again. She shivered, despite the warmth of the evening, and tried to focus on the gentle flow of the water as it made its unhurried way to the North Sea.
The phone rang, making her jump.
He wascallingher? After all the times he’d ignored her calls, he was actually bothering to contact her at last? She could guess why.
‘Don’t you answer your texts?’ was his friendly greeting.
‘Give me a chance. I was busy,’ she defended herself. ‘Anyway, you can talk! How many of my texts have you ignored?’
‘Where are you?’ he demanded, ignoring her yet again. ‘I’m standing in our hallway, and I’m surrounded by black bin bags full of my clothes. What the hell do you think you’re playing at? Where are our suitcases?’
‘Here with me,’ she said, trying to sound calm, even though her heart was hammering in her chest. ‘I didn’t have room for my things and the twins’ things if I gave you a suitcase, so you’ll have to make do with the bin bags. Sorry.’
Not sorry.
‘What do you need suitcases for?’ His tone changed to one of suspicion. ‘Where are you?’
Jenna hesitated, half tempted to tell him she was lying on a beach in the South of France with some hot and hunky man, but common sense told her it wouldn’t take him long to figure out the truth. ‘The twins and I are staying with Mum and Mac at Watersmeet.’
‘For how long?’
‘For the summer,’ she said. ‘Is there a problem?’
‘I’ll say there’s a problem! How dare you take the girls away without asking my permission? I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.’
‘You’ve got to be joking! It’s not like I’ve snatched their passports and smuggled them out of the country. They’re in Kelsea Sands, Joel, not Monaco. It’s a few miles away. Well, fromourhouse anyway. I have no idea how far it is from whereveryou’restaying.’
He didn’t bite. ‘That’s not the point! You can’t just take my children away from me.’
‘Bit dramatic, Joel, considering you just upped and left without even saying goodbye to them. I’ve taken them to stay at my mum’s for the summer so they get some fresh air and a paddle in the sea. If you have a problem with that, talk to a solicitor.’
She winced suddenly, realising she might have given him an opening to talk about divorce. He didn’t take it, though.
‘Of all the places to take them! I can just imagine how much your mother’s loving this, dripping poison into their ears, making them hate me.’
‘My mum’s got better things to do with her time than talk about you,’ Jenna said with dignity. ‘We haven’t even discussed you. Your name just doesn’t come up in conversation.’
He seemed a bit put out by that, as there was a long silence. At last he spluttered, ‘Well, I don’t see why you have to be there all summer. I think two weeks is long enough.’
‘What you think doesn’t really matter, does it?’
‘They’remychildren too, Jenna!’
