‘Okay, then,’ she said. ‘I’m free next week.’
‘I’ll look at my calendar and see what works. I’ll text you.’ He sounded relieved. ‘Thanks, Deb. I miss you.’
‘Let’s just meet for coffee,’ she said, carefully. She didn’t want to commit herself to anything. Dan might have wanted to get back together, but she hadn’t thought about it at all, since she’d been in Loch Cameron. She couldn’t say that she’d missed him. Was this really a good idea? When she had left Glasgow a few weeks ago, she would have said that she was done with Dan. But, there was a history there, and Dan had been with her through some of her darkest times.
The prospect of a relationship – or even casual sex – with a new person was intimidating. At least Dan knew her, and there were no surprises. He’d been less than understanding about the operation, but Deb also didn’t feel intimidated by the thought ofbeing naked in front of him – though the thought also didn’t fill her with excitement, either.
Perhaps it would be better to aim forcomfortableoverthrilling– and, maybe, a second chance was what she and Dan needed. Maybe they could make it work. Maybe that was the best plan.
Maybe.
NINETEEN
‘Well, you could have warned me you were coming,’ Janice grumbled as she opened the door to her flat in the small block she’d lived in ever since Deb was a kid. ‘I haven’t cleaned up. The place is a tip.’
Nice to see you too, Mum, Deb thought, but knew better than to say it.
She hadn’t been able to get Janice on the phone much over the past week or two and had been leaving constant messages.Mum. Give me a call and let me know you’re okay. Janice had texted briefly, here and there, and there had been the evening when Deb had called her and tried to talk about the diary.
But, aside from that, Janice had been very quiet, and Deb had become worried. So, she’d decided that morning to drive over and see her mum. Plus, she still really wanted to talk to Janice about the diary.
‘Well, I wanted to see you. And I didn’t come to see how well you were getting on with the cleaning,’ Deb replied, cheerfully. The drive over had taken hours and even though she’d got out and had a walk around a few times, her middle was aching.
‘Just as well. I was wiped out yesterday,’ Janice sighed. Deb frowned, looking her mother over. She didn’t look well. She waspale, and her hair was scraggly. She wasn’t as sprightly as she normally was. Deb could tell that because she’d surprised her mum with a visit, she hadn’t had the opportunity to prepare herself for Deb and pretend she was better than she actually was. It gave Deb a terrible feeling of sadness to see her like this.
‘How did it go? The appointment?’ Deb took off her shoes and hung up her jacket. She’d brought a few provisions on the way and, when she opened the fridge, was glad that she had – there was almost nothing inside apart from a carton of milk and a few old-looking tomatoes. ‘Mum. You need to do a shop.’
‘I just haven’t had the energy.’ Her mum sighed, and slumped into a chair. ‘I will, though. The appointment was fine. Stop worrying.’
‘Good. Well, I’ll do an order while I’m here.’ Deb got out her phone and tapped on one of the supermarket apps she had set up. ‘You know that I’ll do it for you anytime.’
‘I didn’t want to bother you, love,’ Janice said, weakly.
Until now, the arrangement had been that Janice would let Deb know if she needed groceries, but her neighbour Beatrice often went to the shops for her and Janice seemed to prefer it that way, despite the fact that Deb had her usual grocery shop on repeat order and only had to go through a couple of screens to make it happen.
‘Mum. We’ve gone through this. You’re not bothering me at all.’ Deb rolled her eyes as she unpacked the bag of groceries she had with her: a loaf of bread, a couple of pints of milk, some bananas, a packet of chocolate biscuits, a few tins of baked beans. It wasn’t much, but she was glad she’d brought something.
‘Don’t roll your eyes at me, Deborah Sutherland,’ Janice reprimanded her.
‘Sorry. I’m making you beans on toast, though.’ Deb opened one of the tins and put some bread in the toaster. ‘I readGrandma Elise’s diary, by the way. I see what you mean about it being sad. It’s heartbreaking. I’ve been so wanting to talk to you about it.’
‘I couldn’t read much of it,’ Janice confessed. ‘Made me too depressed. I only found it a few years back, in a box with some other things of hers. Nothing much else of interest.’
‘It’s so sad that she lost Tom, her brother. Did you read the part about how Mrs Smith broke his ankle and his thumb, beating him? Horrifying.’ Deb shook out the baked beans into a saucepan and turned the gas on underneath it, then got two plates down from a cupboard and went to a drawer for cutlery, only to find that the drawer was empty. The sink was full, and so Deb ran the hot tap and started washing up.
‘Yes. Different times, but she was unlucky.’ Janice leaned back in her chair, looking tired.
‘That’s an understatement,’ Deb said, washing a stack of dirty plates and placing them on the drier. Then, she put some slices of bread in the toaster and stirred the beans. ‘Her and Tom were abused, in foster care. It’s shocking. And after losing their parents and their home. I mean, you can read between the lines in the diary and see that her parents were probably alcoholics.’
‘Oh, very likely. Grandma never touched a drink. She had a horror of it.’ Janice closed her eyes.
‘Did you ever meet Tom? Your uncle, then?’ Deb asked.
‘No. She mentioned him a couple of times; I knew she had a brother, but that he wasn’t around anymore. I never knew the story until I read the diary.’
‘It’s so sad that they lost each other. He could have been such a support to her in her life, and she to him. Maybe Grandma Elise wouldn’t have felt so alone if she had her brother around, and…’
‘Listen, love. I’ll have that later. I need to lie down for a bit,’ Janice interrupted her.
