Part 39 (1/2)

'Try the handle. It won't be locked.'

'I don't like to.'

'Oh, for G.o.d's sake.' Jesse pushed his arm in front of her and opened the door. 'h.e.l.lo!' he called cheerily.

The house released the steam of vegetables boiling on the stove and the smell of a chicken roasting in the oven. They could hear music coming from a radio.

'Mickey boy?' shouted Jesse as he walked into the comfortably loved lounge. 'Where are you, you b.u.g.g.e.r?'

Greer, standing on the threshold, looked at the surroundings with her usual judgmental eye. If it were stripped back of all the tasteless clutter, it could be so stylish. Thick and wonky stone walls. Flagstoned floor. Original fireplace and stunning views out to the harbour. But Loveday had smothered all that with her Dralon chintz four-piece suite, grim Austrian blinds and, to Greer's mind, pointless gewgaws on every available surface. The room was separated into two areas. The hideous sitting area to the left and a dining area to the right. The table was laid for six and festooned with streamers and birthday cards.

The kitchen was accessed via the worst a.s.sault on the concept of design that Greer could remember. A brick arch, a plastic vine nailed to it and raffia-covered bottles of chianti placed at odd angles. Loveday was inordinately proud of it. She had once told Greer, who had never forgotten, that it reminded her of the Greek taverna in s.h.i.+rley Valentine. Greer hadn't the energy to tell Loveday that Greeks drank retsina and not chianti.

The kitchen itself was functional but dull, the walls the same terracotta colour that had once been so desirable in the nineties.

Greer shocked herself with this b.i.t.c.hy inner dialogue. Loveday had been nothing but generous to her after Hal lost his arm. Loveday could should hate her, but she didn't.

Greer took the cake box into the kitchen and found Loveday standing outside the back door having a cup of coffee.

'Oh,' said Loveday, clutching her chest. 'I didn't hear you, darlin'. I was just thinking about what you and I were doing twenty-one years ago.'

They embraced each other and Greer handed over the cake. 'What a day that was. But we've survived, more or less intact.' Realising what she'd said, she quickly apologised, feeling the heat of horror in her face. 'I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-'

Loveday was quick with her rea.s.surance. 'No, no, it's fine. Figure of speech. Now then.' She opened the cake box. 'What have you made for us?'

'It's not much. Chocolate sponge, as usual.'

'Tradition, that's what it is,' said Loveday, smiling. 'Imagine if one year you didn't make it? The boys would go mad.'

Greer slipped her coat off and hung it over a kitchen chair. 'How can I help?'

Jesse wandered in. 'Where's that husband of your'n?'

'Upstairs, having a shower.' Loveday handed Greer an ap.r.o.n. 'Can you make some gravy?'

'Yes, of course,' said Greer. 'Did the boys have a good night last night?'

'I didn't hear them come in so it must've been late. I took them coffee this morning and they don't look too good.'

Greer felt her stomach flip with relief that Freddie was safe. She hated it when she didn't hear from him. She always asked him to text, just to let her know he was OK, but he would forget.

Jesse went to the fridge and found himself a tin of beer. 'Don't mind, do you?'

'Help yourself,' said Loveday, taking the pan of boiled potatoes off the Aga and carrying them to the sink to drain them.

Greer was looking in the larder. 'Do you have any cornflour?'

'What for?' asked Loveday, the steam from the potatoes billowing in her face.

'The gravy.'

Loveday smiled indulgently at her old friend. 'Bless you, Greer. If you look to the right there's a red tub of Bisto granules. They'll do.'

Greer found the tub and felt somehow foolish for asking for the cornflour. She read the instructions with care. 'So all I have to do is boil a kettle?'

'That's all you have to do.'

'Morning, all.' Mickey's lanky frame stood in the archway. His hair was still damp from the shower but combed smooth, and he smelt of Lynx. He spotted Jesse's beer. 'Pa.s.s me one of those, Jess.'

'Coming up.' Jesse tossed a tin to Mickey. 'You girls want a drink?'

'Gin and tonic, please,' said Loveday, pouring batter mix into a red-hot roasting tin for Yorks.h.i.+re pudding.

'Same for me, Jesse, thank you,' said Greer. 'Are the boys up yet, Mickey?'

'Aye, they're showering. Can't believe they're twenty-one. Where's the time gone? Cheers.' He lifted his tin and the girls took their drinks from Jesse. 'Cheers.' They c.h.i.n.ked and drank.

Greer was mixing the carefully measured gravy granules with the hot water when Freddie appeared and slid an arm round her waist and kissed her. 'All right, Mum?'

He loomed tall above her and she looked up to drink him in. Her one and only precious son. He was in yesterday's jeans and T-s.h.i.+rt and his breath smelt of last night's alcohol, but he looked all right. Her heart beat a little quicker knowing he was safe.

'You should have texted me.'

'Sorry, Mum. Battery went dead.'

'I should have bought you an extra big battery for your birthday.'

'Oh, yes.' He stretched himself tall, grazing his knuckles on the low ceiling. 'It's my birthday. Happy birthday to me!'

'All right, son?' Jesse pa.s.sed him a tin of beer. 'Need a hair of the dog?'

'Get on then.' He took the can and opened it with a hiss. 'What you got me for my birthday then?'

'You'll have to wait.'

'What about me?' Hal came into the crowded kitchen. His stump was clearly visible under his short-sleeved s.h.i.+rt. He gave his mum and Greer a one-armed hug.

'Happy Birthday, Hal. I hope you had a good night last night?'

'Awesome, weren't it, Fred?'