“I’m not like you, Mam.”
“No harm in that!”
Jane struggled with this. “You’re...more fun than me. You’re larger than life. People notice you more. Of course someone was bound to come along and want to change your life. I’m...I feel twisted up.”
“Nonsense.” Rose took hold of Jane’s hands. “You’re still mine. I’ve watched you, these past couple of years, sink into yourself like this. You hardly feel you’ve got any worth left, do you?”
Dumbly Jane agreed.
“All the fight’s gone out of you, Jane. Fight I put there. I’m scared to say it, but it’s like you’ve no self-respect.”
Jane bridled. “I bloody have!”
“No ego, then. You won’t fight for yourself, speak up for yourself. You’re absorbed in other people’s goings-on.”
Jane fiddled for one of her mother’s cigarettes. “I don’t know what’s happened to me.”
Rose stared and thought, I don’t know either, love. And I don’t know what comes next for you. Your mother’s a dab hand at making the best of things. Slapping on the make-up, putting on the glad rags. I wouldn’t know how to face the world as you do. Your life looks pinched and mean. How did you get like that? She took Jane’s free hand in both of hers. “Come to the desert with me.”
All the way home on the bus Jane thought about going to the desert. She had never been abroad. Imagine her and Peter on the golden sands in a place she’d never thought about before. She could relax into the care of Rose and Ethan, maybe even enjoy their company. For however long the holiday lasted she wouldn’t have to be the grown-up. Rose and Ethan knew all the procedures. They knew how to travel abroad and how to do it in style. Jane needed their help. She wouldn’t have a clue where to queue with her passport and tickets, how to travel on a plane.
They had the money for it, too. They could afford to treat Jane and Peter. He would miss some weeks at school, but it was worth it, surely. He would have some exciting tales to tell his pals and his teacher. He was such a quiet kid. He’d wow them all with his tales from the desert.
Jane saw herself packing two cases, one for him, one for her, with shorts and tops, new underwear, bikini, sun dresses, sun block, and how many novels might she need for a fortnight? Fourteen days in the sun with nothing else to do but read her books.
She thought about this all the way to Aycliffe. She got off the bus at Humphrey Close, just by Peter’s school. When he came down the drive he looked upset. Something had happened today but, as usual, he wouldn’t tell her anything. It was swimming day and she assumed it had to do with that. As they walked home across the Burn, she considered telling him the plan. But I won’t, not yet. Just in case it doesn’t come off. There was nothing worse than raising a kid’s hopes and letting them spoil.
When they reached their estate it was nearly dark. They met Elsie scooting across to Fran’s house.
“I’m going for my tea,” Elsie said. “Fran’s being ever so good to me.”
“Hm,” said Jane. Fran never invited her for tea these days. Fran always made it sound like she had the five thousand to feed, and that her family meals were sacrosanct. Elsie sounded so pleased with herself, getting an invite over the road to eat with Fran’s mob.
“I saw your Penny on the bus into Darlington,” Jane said.
“She isn’t my Penny.” Elsie smiled, but she was blushing with pleasure. “She’s my Craig’s Penny.”
“Well, anyway.” Jane waved her objection aside. “All the way there on the bus she sat with that Mark. You know, Mr Tattoos.”
“Oh yes?” Elsie’s eyes narrowed. Jane was getting at something. Her voice had gone hard, her accent just that bit posher. She was meaning to be awful.
“They were friendly as anything,” said Jane. “Laughing and carrying on all the way there.”
“Were they, now?” Elsie thought, Jane’s trying to upset me. Why would she do that? She decided to ask outright. It was the best thing to do with people like that. “What are you trying to say to me, Jane?”
“I just reckon your Craig should learn to keep an eye on his lass. By the looks of it, she likes the fellers.”
Elsie flushed with anger. She kept her voice steady. “Well. Thanks for telling me that, Jane.”
Then, without saying goodbye or anything, Elsie stumped across the play park towards the lights from Fran’s house.
“Wait a minute!” Elsie cried and went running back to Jane. Her voice sounded almost gleeful. Jane swung round and found her arms being grasped by Elsie, who was gabbling right into her face. “You needn’t worry about that, pet! Our Craig’s Penny isn’t carrying on! She couldn’t be carrying on with that Mark! Mark isn’t like that — I saw him on New Year with the other bloke — Penny couldn’t do anything with him! He’s a queer!”
Jane recoiled as if she’d been slapped. Peter looked up at her.
Elsie stared at Jane for backup. “So it’s all right, isn’t it? Penny must be all right.”
“I don’t know,’ said Jane. She turned to go, leaving Elsie looking confused. God, thought Jane, what have I stirred up now?
Penny waited outside the shop where Mark’s ex-wife worked.
In the cool, white, crowded arcade, Penny wondered what she was doing, hanging around for him. The music piped through the speakers was faulty. Abba were doing ‘Thank You for the Music’ at twice the usual speed. When Mark came out of Sam’s shop he was cross and flushed.
“Sam can still wrap me round her little finger,” he said. “She’s got me babysitting for her new baby again.”
By now Penny had decided Mark couldn’t be the ruthless user Andy had said he was. She knew Andy liked to overdramatise things. She and Mark went to look at the discount home appliances in Wilkinsons.
“I’m
