Janey was folding towels in the bathroom when she became aware of heated voices coming from the living room.
‘Why the hell were you in my room in the first place?’ she heard Brooke demand.
‘You think I wanted to be in that sty?’ Rhianna shot back. ‘It’s worse than when you were a teenager. I don’t know how an adult woman can live like that and keep her self-respect.’
‘My self— you’re such a cowbag, you know that? How is my room any of your business? How is my life any of your business? God, Rhianna!’
‘I was looking for my children’s missing clothes, if you must know,’ Rhianna said. ‘Every time I put things in the laundry, items go astray. I just know they’ve been bundled into your wardrobe unironed along with all your manky Primark crap.’
Brooke laughed. ‘You put them in the laundry? For the magic laundry fairy to do, right? Speaking of living like an adult woman, Rhia, maybe you could do your own bloody washing instead of expecting me and Mum to do it for you.’
‘Keep your voice down if you’re going to swear,’ Rhianna hissed. ‘The children must be learning all sorts of choice language from you. And I dread to think how their table manners are suffering, eating off their laps in front of the television every evening.’
‘Yeah, well it’s my home and this is how things are in it. If you don’t like it, feel free to sod off.’
Sighing, Janey left the towels and went to poke her head around the living room door.
Rhianna’s lip was wobbling now. ‘You would throw the fact I’ve got nowhere else to go in my face, wouldn’t you?’
Brooke shook her head. ‘Spare me the emotional blackmail, can you? You’ve been here two weeks, Rhia. You can’t expect us to tiptoe around you forever and then play the pity card whenever you don’t get your own way.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry if after a whole fortnight I’m not quite over my husband of eleven years having an affair.’
OK. Enough was enough. Janey strode into the room and put her hands on her hips in best mum fashion.
‘All right, what’s going on in here?’ she demanded. ‘The children are in their bedrooms and they can hear every damn word you two are spitting at each other.’
Brooke pointed at her sister. ‘She’s been going through my stuff, Mum! I caught her ransacking my cupboard.’
‘Because I needed to find all Livvy’s clean underwear ready for her to start school tomorrow,’ Rhianna said. ‘If she checked her stinking laundry before she put it away instead of shoving it in the cupboard in a pile, I wouldn’t have to go through it.’
‘You wouldn’t have to go through it if you did your own sodding washing, either.’
‘Enough!’ Janey marched between them. ‘God almighty. I had enough of this shit the first time around.’
Rhianna threw herself down on the sofa. ‘She started it.’
Brooke rolled her eyes. ‘Jesus, Rhia, grow up, can you?’
‘You can both grow up,’ Janey said firmly. ‘Like it or not, you two have to live together. What’s more, there are two little people here who are frightened and disoriented and looking to the adults for comfort. And what do they see? Their mum and their aunt bickering like a pair of schoolgirls.’
Brooke took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. ‘Sorry, Mum. She winds me up, that’s all.’
‘What we need here is a bit of mutual respect.’ Janey turned to Rhianna. ‘Rhia, you know we both love you, and this is your home as much as ours. But it’s been over a fortnight, and it’s time you stopped acting like a guest.’
Rhianna blinked. ‘What?’
‘You’re the only adult here not earning her keep. From now on, you take your turn to cook the meals. You can do your own washing, and you can help out in the pub tonight.’
Janey couldn’t tell whose face looked more horrified, Brooke’s or Rhianna’s.
‘We can’t have her in the pub!’ Brooke spluttered. ‘We’re struggling enough for customers without her sour chops sneering at people over the pumps.’
‘Max and Livvy are starting at the primary school tomorrow!’ Rhianna protested. ‘I’ll be so humiliated if the other parents think I’m some barmaid.’
‘Like me and Mum, you mean,’ Brooke said.
‘Yes, well, that’s all right for you, isn’t it? You don’t have children. Besides, people expect you to be behind a bar.’
‘Whereas they expect you to be the queen of bloody Spain, I suppose.’
‘So it’s come to this, has it?’ Janey rolled up her sleeves. ‘Jesus, I never thought I’d have to say this again. The pair of you, go to your rooms.’
‘Me?’ Brooke said. ‘What did I do?’
‘It doesn’t matter what anyone did. You two need a time out: far, far away from each other. Go to your rooms, go for a walk, go to bloody Timbuctoo if you like, I’m past caring. Just get the hell away from each other. When you’re ready to say sorry and behave like adults again, let me know.’
‘Fine.’ Brooke glared at Rhianna. ‘She’ll have to do the apologising, though. I’m going to walk to Morton and cool off.’
‘Do I still have to go to my room?’ Rhianna asked her mum when Brooke had marched out.
‘You ought to be talking to your children,’ Janey told her sternly. ‘They’re starting a new school tomorrow, they must be scared stiff. Well, are you ashamed of yourself?’
Rhianna sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Mum. I don’t know why it’s so hard for us to get along. Brooke just makes me feel so… lesser, you know?’
‘Lesser?’
‘Like I’m nobody, just some snivelling little worm. It’s an effect she always seems to have on me.’
Janey sat down next to her eldest daughter.
‘You could try a bit harder with her though, Rhia,’ she said in a gentler voice. ‘She loves you, but you do make it difficult for her to like you sometimes.’
‘She just seems to bring out the worst in me,’ Rhianna murmured. ‘Whenever we’re together, I feel like we’re back to being teenagers again.’
‘Anything more from James?’
‘Another barrage of texts this morning. He’s still pressing me to go home and talk about it.’
‘Did you speak to him?’
‘Not yet. I can’t face it. I texted and said the children had got emergency places at the local primary school, which he was pretty horrified by, and that we’d discuss access arrangements when everything was a bit more settled.’ She pressed her eyes closed. ‘They cry for him every day, Mum. I am doing the right thing, aren’t I?’
‘Absolutely,’ Janey said firmly. ‘A cheat once is a cheat forever. If you stayed with him for the children’s sake, that’d damage Livvy and Max as well as you.’
‘I really thought James was the one, you know?’ Rhianna whispered. ‘That we had something like you and Dad had. Mum, I feel such a fool.’
‘He’s the fool for throwing away the best thing that ever happened to him for the sake of some cheap nookie.’
‘Thank you,’ Rhianna said with a watery smile. ‘And I’m sorry if I didn’t always seem grateful for everything you and Dad did for me. I know you had to sacrifice a lot so I could take the place at St Mary’s.’
‘You were worth it, eh?’ Janey said, giving her a jiggle.
Rhianna gave a wet laugh. ‘I don’t know about that.’
She rested her head on her mum’s shoulder, and Janey kissed the top of her hair.
‘Do you know why your dad left you a share of the pub, Rhianna?’ she said softly.
‘I’ve often wondered. The Highwayman’s was always Brooke’s thing, and it wasn’t like I needed it. I suppose he didn’t want me to feel he didn’t care about me as much as her.’
Janey shook her head. ‘He left it so you’d never be completely dependent on James. Your dad was always wary of him – ever since he made you sign that contract thing.’
‘Lots of rich people have prenups before they get married, though.’
‘Your dad believed marriage ought to be about partnership. Share and share alike.’
‘I never knew that was why he left me a share,’ Rhianna said in a dreamy voice. ‘Good old Dad. Still, the pub’s no help to me now, is it? I can’t provide for the children with a building, and God knows it isn’t earning much.’
‘That’ll change.’
Rhianna lifted her head to look at her mum. ‘There was another letter this morning. From Nick Weyborough.’
‘I saw. One million quid, final offer. It’s a very generous figure.’
‘I mean, in other circumstances I wouldn’t even consider selling,’ Rhianna said. ‘But The Highwayman’s seems to be haemorrhaging customers, to the extent it might end up closing in a few years if things don’t improve. And here’s Willowtree Taverns offering silly money for it, and me desperate for cash… the timing alone feels like fate.’
‘Three hundred grand is pretty small fry to you, isn’t it?’
Rhianna snorted. ‘Yeah, when I was a millionaire’s wife it was. Now I’m a broke, jobless slob, it’s wealth beyond measure. More than enough to get me and the children set up in our own place.’ She glanced up. ‘It does feel foolish to turn it down, don’t you think? Just imagine what Brooke could do with that kind of money – you too, Mum. You could retire and really start enjoying life. Travel the world, like you always wanted to.’
Janey sighed. ‘That doesn’t sound at all bad. I used to love being behind the bar when it was Eddie and me, but it’s not the same without your dad. I spend most of my time in the kitchen nowadays anyway, never seeing anyone.’
‘Would you sell? If it was up to you alone?’
‘I’d rather not, but let’s face it, this isn’t the place it was two years ago. I’m starting to wonder if we can ever get back what we had.’
‘What do you think Dad would want us to do?’
‘I think he’d want us to remember that we’re a family, and there’s nothing more important than that. Not even The Highwayman’s.’ Janey gave her a last squeeze and stood up. ‘But that doesn’t mean you’re getting out of working a shift tonight.’
Rhianna grimaced. ‘Do I have to?’
‘Yes you do. You ought to be earning your keep. Besides, it’ll help you understand your sister better.’
‘I have to take care of the children though.’
‘I’ll take care of the children. It’s quiz night tonight, which means the kitchen closes early.’ She held up a hand as Rhianna opened her mouth to protest. ‘No, Rhia, it’s no good trying to talk me out of it. Now go see if the kids need anything, eh? I’ll be in my room, getting changed. I’m on cooking duty soon.’
When Janey was alone in her bedroom, she let out a long sigh.
It pained her to see her girls going for each other’s jugulars, which they invariably did after more than ten minutes in one another’s company. She knew they loved each other, but there just seemed to be this total clash of personalities. Rhianna only had to give the impression she looked down on Brooke’s job or manners and Brooke would bristle like an angry cat. Rhianna, always fastidious and neat, couldn’t bear her sister’s slap-dash approach to life, and felt cowed by Brooke’s confidence. Put them together in a small flat with two young kids and an old lady, and it was a recipe for frayed nerves. Tempers had been stretched to breaking point over the last fortnight.
God knew how they were going to cope over the coming months. While Brooke remained optimistic that her sister wouldn’t be with them for long, Janey felt sure she’d be there for some time. Rhianna was flat broke, and her mum certainly wasn’t going to let her go back to that cheating bastard for the sake of his house and money. That was how men like him got women in their power. Well, he wasn’t having her daughter.
She opened her cupboard to pick something to wear for her shift. It didn’t matter what, really, when she’d be stuck in the kitchen most of the day.
It had been a good idea of Brooke’s, introducing a limited menu of pub grub, but Janey missed serving customers. Still, it was better to hand that over to the younger ones: Brooke and that lad Hayden. People liked to see a young, smiling face when they went for their drinks, and Janey’s glory days as a draw behind the bar were long gone.
Rhianna’s talk of early retirement had got her thinking about something that had been on her mind recently. There were certainly things Janey wanted to do in her life while she still could. Let’s face it, she thought as she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror, she wasn’t getting any younger.
She moved closer to the mirror and pinched her cheeks to bring some colour into them.
‘Well, old man, what do you think?’ she asked the photo of her husband on the chest of drawers. ‘Am I ready for the knacker’s yard?’
Eddie didn’t answer. He just smiled at her from the frame. That was all right, though, because Janey knew what he’d say. ‘Haven’t aged a day, our lass.’ He’d been the best sort of big fat liar.
She wasn’t a complete wreck anyway. Her hair was still thick, and a deep, rich chestnut thanks to the skill of her hairdresser. The face underneath was lined, yes, but it was fine-featured and not entirely hideous. And after all, sixty-two wasn’t old old – not these days. No one could take Eddie’s place in her heart, naturally, but it would be nice to have a companion to spend the remainder of her life with. Someone to snuggle up to in the night. That was what Janey missed most of all: the feeling of a pair of loving arms around her.
Was it too late to start again? To find someone?
She wouldn’t even know where to begin, these days. Her mobile phone was one of the old ones, with just a basic screen and push buttons. Janey had no idea how to operate one of these smartphones – when she saw the girls on theirs, how fast their fingers moved, it frightened her. Computers she could do the most basic things on, like type a letter, but they were generally a mystery. She had an email address she never used and a Facebook account she barely knew how to manage. Janey felt guilty, now, for the times she’d rolled her eyes at her own parents because they didn’t know how to operate a pocket calculator or cassette player.
But that was how dating worked nowadays, wasn’t it? You sent pictures of yourself to some website – in your birthday suit, probably – and ten minutes later, a handsome man would send you an email asking if you’d like to come over to his place for oysters and sex. Then he’d chop you up and bury you out in the woods. Janey had seen a lot of true-crime documentaries.
Did anyone still do it the old-fashioned way? Just hang out at a pub or nightclub and wait for someone they liked to ask for their phone number? At her age, probably not.
She narrowed her eyes at her reflection as she tried to see herself the way others might. She wasn’t a complete hag, was she? What’s more she was lonely, and bored, and, not to put too fine a point on it, frustrated. As complicated as modern dating was, Janey wasn’t quite ready to write off any thought of romance just yet – or sex, for that matter.
Why shouldn’t she have her share of fun as well as the young ones? If love, libido and laughter didn’t halt at sixty, who said life had to? She was free, single and with plenty of years to enjoy yet – she hoped – and she knew it was what Eddie would want. Her husband had been seven years older than her, and well aware he might be the first to go. ‘Don’t wait too long, Janey,’ he’d said to her once, a few years before the end. ‘You always were too good to keep to myself.’
Yes, Janey decided as she cast a fond look at his photo. Eddie was right: it was time. Time to get out there and start looking for husband number two.