A phone rang, percolating through Jenna’s dreamscape. She sat up disorientated. Where was she? Luke’s. Right. Weak street light pushing through a space in the curtains helped her pick out the detail of the room. Her phone stopped. It had sounded like it was coming from the floor. She nudged something solid with her foot. Her bag. Right. It felt like every thought was coming to her through a fog.
She leaned down, picked up her handbag, pulled out the phone and read the name of her mother’s carer on the screen. Why would she be calling her?
It started to ring again. But this time her mother’s ringtone sounded, and her name and number appeared on the screen.
‘That stupid twat has only gone and resigned.’ Her mother’s voice sounded more slurred than normal. Anger and fatigue would do that, thought Jenna absently. She shook her head, willing clarity into her thoughts. Her mother was distressed. Wake up.
‘Did you hear me? Resigned. Said she couldn’t deal with my shit anymore.’
‘I’m betting she didn’t use those words,’ Jenna replied. That would be so unlike Martie.
‘You need to come over. I need a shower. My breakfast. What am I having for my fugging breakfast, Jenna?’
Fugging breakfast.
‘What time is it?’ Jenna asked.
‘Breakfast time.’
It’s her condition. It’s not your mum. It’s her condition talking.
After saying she’d be over as soon as she could, she cut the call and checked the time. 7:48. She took a deep breath, and willed energy into her body. This was not good. Her mother’s latest carer was the third in six months, and was the only one to last more than two weeks. She worried her mother’s reputation went before her, and the agency wouldn’t be able to find someone else to work with her at such short notice. Besides, Christmas was approaching; staff had to have holidays. Would there be anyone spare? She’d have to phone the bookshop and take some time off.
Guilt and resentment fought for space in her mind. She couldn’t not see to her mother, but she didn’t want to lose her job. That and Luke were the only things keeping her sane right now.
With a start she realised that if she couldn’t get a replacement carer, not only would she have to take leave from her work, she might also have to move in with her mother. And then her life would officially be over.
As she gathered her belongings together she focused her hearing in the direction of Luke’s bedroom. Nothing. Good. It meant she didn’t have to have any awkward conversations. He didn’t sign up for a girlfriend with mother issues. Or one with an overactive imagination. Maybe the person looking in her window was all in her head.
Leave, Jenna. If she woke him up and told him why she was going, and perhaps why he was better off without her, he’d just do that nice guy thing he did and persuade her she was wrong.
No. He had enough on his plate with trying to build up his business, looking after Nathan, and then there was that freaky photo.
Time to leave.
She cast her eyes towards his bedroom, delaying her departure for just a moment, in the hope he would wake up and talk to her, and she would melt, going against all her instincts, which told her she should put relationships behind her.
Things had always been much more simple without men in her life.