“It’s too big, see?” Only her fingertips show below the sleeves. “It can all go.” Jeanie shoves her hands deep into the pockets of the coat. “Bridget, there’s something I need to tell you—ask, really.”
“It looks lovely on you,” Bridget says, talking over her. “You could take up the sleeves. Putting on a bit of weight wouldn’t do you any harm.”
Jeanie’s fingers feel a piece of folded paper at the bottom of the pocket. She pulls it out: a twenty-pound note.
“Would you look at that,” Bridget says, smiling.
Jeanie laughs. Delighted and surprised, she unfolds it and holds it up to the window.
“Maybe you should keep it. It’s a lucky coat.”
Jeanie puts the money in the pocket of her dressing gown. It will be enough for another food shop. She takes the coat off and dumps it on the bed with the other clothes. “No, I can’t keep any of it.” She sits on the side of the bed. “I’ve been having a clear-out.”
“A clear-out?”
“Deciding what to keep and what can go. So much clutter in this house.”
“A spring clean.”
“Kind of.”
“But too much change all at once isn’t a good thing. It takes a while to adjust after something big has happened. When I had to clear out Dad’s house—”
“We don’t have a choice.”
“Why’s that then?” Bridget takes down the remaining hangers on Dot’s side of the wardrobe.
“Julius and I are probably moving out,” Jeanie says fiercely, chin up, as though daring Bridget to challenge her.
“Moving?” Bridget says. Her surprise doesn’t sound quite genuine. “What a shame for you and Julius to have to move out now.”
“I thought you said this place wasn’t fit to live in? Buckets in the corners when it rains. Freezing in the winter, damp the rest of the time.”
“I’m not sure I said all that. I might have suggested that Rawson needs to pull his finger out and get the place fixed up.”
“He’s pulled his finger out all right.”
“Your mother would be so sad. It was important to her, to keep this roof over your heads, make sure you were looked after.”
“Oh, Bridget.” Jeanie slumps, giving in. “Rawson’s evicting us—tomorrow. Tomorrow! If it actually happens. God knows where we’ll go. Julius won’t talk about it. I’m not sure if he refuses to believe it’ll happen or he’s just ignoring it, but—”
“Well, that’s terrible,” Bridget interrupts, her tone odd enough for Jeanie to look up. Bridget, still facing the wardrobe and fiddling with the clothes draped over her arm, says: “We can’t be having you homeless. I’ve known you and Julius nearly all your lives and I wouldn’t want that. I tell you what, if it happens, why don’t you both come and stay with me and Stu for a bit? A week or two until you sort something out.”
“I don’t think it would work. But thanks.”
Bridget turns finally, smiling too broadly. “Of course it would. You can have Nath’s old room and Julius can have the sofa. We’ll manage for a while.”
The moment for telling Bridget about Nathan seems to have passed. It would be like revealing to a wife that her husband is having an affair, or her child has been seen smoking pot on the village green: not your business and too close to gossip. Maybe it’s better to let her find out for herself, or not.
“And Stu. What will he say?”
“Stu won’t mind.”
∙
In bed later, with Dot’s clothes taken away by Bridget, Jeanie lies in her nightie and dressing gown, which she hasn’t taken off all day. She never made it to Saffron’s. Under the covers she slips her hand into the dressing gown pocket and finds, again, the twenty-pound note. She searched every other pocket before Bridget took the clothes away, in case Dot left money in another, but she didn’t find any more. Jeanie replays their conversation and remembers Bridget’s awkwardness. She unfolds the note and holds it in front of her. Would Dot have folded a single note and forgotten it in a pocket? In the dark Jeanie’s face burns with shame at her naivety as she realizes that Bridget put the money in the coat pocket, and this could only mean that Julius had told her about how desperate their money problems have become. He must have told her about the eviction too and discussed the idea of them moving in with her and Stu. Did he also try to mention Nathan’s involvement? That evening, when Julius was eating the pizza, he pretended to be surprised by Bridget’s offer, maintaining that they wouldn’t need to take her up on it; they wouldn’t be moving out the next day no matter what. Perhaps the suggestion for them to stay wasn’t even Bridget’s; maybe he went to her and begged.
16
The smell of cigarettes wakes Jeanie. It has taken days for the smoky, beery stink to dissipate after the gathering for Dot, and now the smell sets up the same palpitations inside her. How was it that last night, of all nights, she was able to sleep? She hears raised voices in the kitchen—Julius’s and several others—and she scrambles to get dressed while Maude harasses her and grouses, knowing something is going on. Downstairs, Nathan is lounging in the doorway between the scullery and the kitchen. He appears more at ease than he did on his last visit and he’s wearing the same suit, although it has already bagged at the knees and the pockets have taken on the shapes of a mobile phone and a set of keys. Another young man is wedged into a corner of the sofa, his eyes closed and mouth open. He jerks awake, eyes staring crazily about him. A third man, slighter than the others, hollow-cheeked with eyes deep-set and red-rimmed, stands near the front door smoking while Julius rants at him about rights of entry and trespass. The man says nothing, only smiles, his teeth
