The Other Family

They offered Chrissie fifty thousand less than the asking price.

‘Say no,’ Tamsin said.

‘I was going to. Anyway.’

‘I would advise—’ Mr Mundy began.

‘No,’ Chrissie said, ‘I’l take ten off.’

‘Mrs Rossiter—’

‘Ten,’ Chrissie said.

The young couple offered forty thousand less than the asking price.

‘Fifteen,’ Chrissie said.

The young couple said that they were no longer interested at that price.

‘I wil leave in six weeks,’ Chrissie said, ‘and I wil take twenty thousand off the asking price.’

‘Oh God, Mum,’ Dil y said, ‘do you know what you’re doing?’

‘Not real y,’ Chrissie said, ‘but I’m going on instinct. I’m excited.’

‘You’re over excited—’

The young couple said that they would agree to exchange within two weeks and twenty-five thousand off, but that they were of course now looking at other properties.

‘Done,’ Chrissie said, ‘done. And I’ve taken the job at Leverton’s.’

‘You can’t—’

‘I can.’

‘She can!’

‘What do you know,’ Tamsin said to Dil y, ‘you’ve never earned a penny in al your life.’

‘I wil be,’ Dil y said. ‘I’m looking for work now. I will be.’

‘Playing houses,’ Tamsin said scornful y, ‘in that poky flat.’

‘It could be a pretty flat,’ Chrissie said. She was stirring Sunday-night scrambled eggs. ‘I’l ring the owner in the morning. I’l tel him that the minute I’ve exchanged contracts on this I’l sign the lease.’

‘Not before,’ Tamsin said.

‘I know not before,’ Chrissie said irritably. ‘Please do stop treating me like a halfwit.’

There was a fractional startled pause.

‘Sorr ee,’ Tamsin said in an offended voice.

‘I’ve bought and sold houses before,’ Chrissie said. ‘I’ve lived on my own and earned my own living, I’l have you know. And you can’t even manage to move into a flat that’s being provided for you, complete with customized wardrobe.’

The landline telephone rang.

‘I’l get it,’ Tamsin and Dil y said in unison.

There was a smal scuffle. Dil y was quicker. She twitched the handset out of its mooring and held it hard to her ear.

‘Hel o? Oh, hi, Ames. How goes it? How’re you doing?’

There was a considerable silence. Chrissie took the egg pan off the cooker and continued to stir with elaborate concentration. Tamsin leaned against the nearest wal and folded her arms, fixing her gaze resolutely on some midpoint halfway down the kitchen. Dil y stayed where she was, listening. Then, after what seemed an unconscionable time, she said, ‘Oh wow,’ and, ‘Jesus, Amy,’ and then, ‘You’d better talk to Mum. Hadn’t you?’

Chrissie stopped stirring. Tamsin stood upright. Chrissie held her hand out for the phone.

‘Big deal, Ames,’ Dil y said into the phone, taking no notice.

Chrissie took a step closer.

‘ Please—’

‘Give it to her!’ Tamsin said sharply.

‘They’re going mad here,’ Dil y said. ‘Shal I pass you over?’ Then she laughed. ‘Countdown,’ she said. ‘Ready? Three, two, one, Mothah!’

She handed the telephone to Chrissie.

‘And?’ Tamsin demanded.

Dil y ignored her. She was watching Chrissie. Chrissie was listening intently. Then she said, ‘But I want you home tomorrow. You promised you would be back tomorrow—’

‘She’s not staying?’ Tamsin hissed.