Home after her disastrous morning, Sam called Audrey in Mapleberry. Since they’d got a bit of distance between them, Audrey at least managed the odd conversation on the phone. She never offered much, but it was better than the battlefield they’d so often found themselves on before. She always politely asked how the job hunting and house hunting was going, but little else. Sam had a feeling she was happy enough getting out and about in Mapleberry and having time away, although she was surprised Audrey didn’t moan about her gran more. She wasn’t sure whether to be offended Audrey appeared to prefer her gran’s company to Sam’s, or pleased the plan hadn’t gone belly up when it very easily could’ve done.
Sam spoke to Veronica briefly – she was never one to have a long telephone conversation – and these days it was all about Audrey and whether she was helping in the house, respecting rules, not getting into trouble. She thanked her yet again for stepping in to help, but it was a relief to put the phone down. And she’d made sure she’d got the call out of the way before she poured a glass of wine so she could enjoy the relaxation without any stress to take her by surprise.
She poured a generous glass of wine and stood at the kitchen window looking out to the garden, the patio, the outside space where she and Simon had once hosted gatherings with friends. After the split, friendships were strained and only the strongest had come through. Jilly was one of those friends who had always been there and always would be, she’d stuck around, and it was only after Simon left that Sam realised so many of the people they’d spent time with had merely been to add to their group to make up the numbers. These days she preferred to put quality over quantity when it came to her friendships.
A knock at the front door was a welcome diversion from feeling so down. Sam opened it to see a smiling Jilly on the other side.
‘You beat me to it.’ Jilly pulled out a bottle of wine from behind her back as she eyed Sam’s glass already in her hand.
‘What are you doing here?’ but she was beaming, she needed a friend. As much as she and Audrey weren’t getting on, the house was way too quiet without her.
‘I’ve come for a sleepover.’
‘No way.’
‘Yes way, and it was my husband’s suggestion before you put up a fight – he even handed me the wine. You’re moving out soon – we need to get very drunk and commiserate.’
The evening was exactly what Sam needed. They got through all the wine, they talked long into the night and the next morning Sam still didn’t have a house or a job on the horizon, but she felt as though she was still in control. She’d just needed to hear it from someone else. And this morning she decided she’d make a start at packing up the house. It would have to be done eventually and putting off the inevitable was only making her worry more.
Sam assembled the flat-packed cardboard boxes she’d picked up a few days ago in anticipation of her move. She started with Audrey’s room, which was a task in itself. The amount of clothes one teenager needed was baffling – multiple colours, fabrics, shoes in all colours and styles. She tackled the desk drawers, one littered with old pens with dried out tips, another with scraps of paper that resembled schoolwork, although clearly not the to-be-handed-in version. She piled everything together for Audrey to deal with later, and as for the overflowing rubbish bin beneath, it looked as though Audrey hadn’t emptied it in weeks.
Sam grabbed the bin, about to take it outside, when something caught her eye. And when she saw what it was, she felt nausea surge through her body. It was a book about New Zealand and tucked between the first couple of pages was a printout of instructions of how to apply for a visa. And not just any visa – there was no mention of a tourist or a temporary stay, this was permanent.
Sam slumped down on the end of Audrey’s bed. Her daughter intended to move to the other side of the world to be with her dad.
How much research had Audrey already done? Had she made official enquiries, looked up requirements? And when was she going to tell her? When she bought her ticket? When she got to the airport?
Sam found her way downstairs, dazed at the discovery. A cup of coffee hit the mark, but still she was lost. The equilibrium she’d found with Jilly’s help last night had all but disappeared and she called Audrey’s phone – she needed answers.
But Audrey didn’t pick up. Sam tried her mum’s landline instead, and when Veronica answered and explained Audrey was doing her school work and probably had her earphones in, it all poured out. The woman who had never been Sam’s confidante suddenly became the one person she felt she could tell. The one person she prayed could help her from spiralling into the abyss and losing her daughter.
‘I bet Simon put her up to this,’ Sam said. ‘Just like him to do that and not think to mention it.’
‘Let’s not jump to conclusions,’ was all Veronica said.
Sam persuaded her mum not to mention it –
