by Susan Lewis
Where was he now? What was he doing on this wintry Saturday afternoon? It was impossible to imagine what his life was like when she’d never mixed in his sort of world, much less lived in it.
‘Would you like me to go through everything with you?’ Emma offered. ‘Maybe I can help out in some way …’
Coming back to earth, Angie sighed. ‘You’re already doing enough,’ and turning as Zac came into the kitchen she scooped him up on her lap.
‘Where are Harry and Jack?’ he asked his aunt, helping himself to a biscuit.
‘They’ve gone to their dad’s until tomorrow,’ Emma reminded him.
‘Oh yes, I forgot.’
He seemed so forlorn, so unbearably lonely without his cousins and a dad of his own, that Angie couldn’t stop more tears welling in her eyes.
‘They said they’ll be on the PlayStation,’ Emma told him encouragingly.
Zac brightened a little. His cousins had another PlayStation at their dad’s, so it would almost be like they were here. ‘We’re in the middle of a game with these players from Denmark,’ he explained as he slid off Angie’s lap, ‘and we were winning last night. I’ll go and see if anyone’s logged in.’
After he’d gone Emma said quietly, ‘So what about those accounts?’
Knowing she couldn’t bear even her sister to realize how bad things actually were, Angie said, ‘Let me go through it on my own first then we can talk. Now tell me about Grace. Did she say where she was going today?’
‘To swim club with Lois.’
‘Of course. How did she seem?’
‘Hard to tell really, she must have been late because she went off in a bit of a rush.’
Glad to think Grace was carrying on as normal, Angie sighed shakily and began clearing up the kitchen. The last thing she wanted was Grace taking on some misguided sense of responsibility. She was her father’s daughter in that respect, always feeling she had to fix problems, even when it was completely beyond her to know how.
Grace and Lois were searching for a table in the café at Kesterly indoor pool, their hair still wet following the afternoon swim club, their appetites raging after so much exertion.
‘I promise I’ll pay you back,’ Grace insisted as they squeezed into a small corner between the window and a vending machine.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Lois told her. ‘It’s just one session.’
‘Plus a doughnut and hot chocolate …’
‘… and when you’re earning I know you’ll make good. Now, come on, show me the message. I’ve been dying to read it. When did it come?’
‘Just after I woke up,’ Grace replied, starting to grin, for she already knew how her BFF was going to respond.
‘And you didn’t send it straight to me,’ Lois cried, snatching the phone from Grace’s hand. She began reading aloud. There was so much noise echoing around the swimming baths that even Grace missed most of it, but it didn’t matter, she could more or less remember what it said. Hi Grace, like I promised I’ve been giving your situation a lot of thought and doing some research on how best I can help. From your YouTube and Facebook posts it’s clear you’re into acting – you have a real talent by the way – so I’ve been in touch with some contacts of mine and several have already come back to say how impressed they are by what they’ve seen. They’re all agreed that you could make some serious money if you were cast in the right productions. Would you be interested in pursuing this further? If not, no worries, I’m sure I can come up with something else. Anya
Lois’s eyes were as round as her specs as she looked at Grace. ‘TFA,’ she murmured, shorthand for totally effing awesome.
Grace was still grinning as she bit into her doughnut. ‘I wonder what sort of parts she’s talking about,’ she mused, thinking of the many she’d like to play such as Arya Stark in Game of Thrones, or Luce Price in The Fallen or Miss Adelaide in Guys and Dolls. She’d played Miss Adelaide in the Fairweather Players’ production last year and everyone had said it was amazing that someone as young as her could sing and dance and act so well.
‘You need to ask her,’ Lois declared, waving to their coach as he came into the café. ‘Is she thinking screen or stage? You can do both, no problem, and we’ll have to prepare you for auditions. I’m definitely up for that. OMG this is totally, totally lit.’
Grace put her phone away just in case the coach came to join them. Since receiving the message she’d been lurching between excitement, nerves and then guilt for not worrying more about her mum. But she was doing this for her so that should make everything all right, shouldn’t it?
She did her best to join in the chit-chat when the coach plonked himself and a burger down on the windowsill next to their table, but her mind was all caught up with other things and her eyes kept drifting to the street below. Today was one of the many times she’d wondered what she’d do if she saw Liam on his way somewhere, or just hanging around, and now her mum had received that text it was seeming more possible that she might. There was no sign of him today, not that she’d really expected there to be, but it didn’t stop her hoping. She’d found nothing on any of her social media pages to give her a clue as to who might have sent the text, but whoever it was had definitely looked at her posts because they’d said so, and now she was wondering if it might have been Liam himself or maybe it was Anya. If she was a friend of her dad’s then it was possible she had her mum’s mobile number.
‘Why don’t you ask Anya if she sent the text about Liam?’ Lois suggested after they’d said goodbye to the coach and taken themselves outside to wait for Lois’s mum to come and pick them up.
‘I think I will, when I answer her message.’
‘Which you’re going to do today? I’d definitely be finding out more about that if I was you.’
‘Don’t worry, I’m going to,’ Grace assured her. ‘I’ve just got to work out what to say.’
‘We can do that together … Are you coming back to mine? Yes, you have to. Oh God, this is totally amazing. I can’t wait to get on it.’
It was just after five that evening when Emma returned from delivering the cake to Melvin and his family. As she let herself in the front door she called out to Angie that they had a visitor, and realizing it was her cue to cover up the paperwork spread over the kitchen table, Angie went about it quickly, trying to steady her erratic heartbeat.
Her first thought, when she heard a male voice, was that Emma had brought Melvin back with her. Maybe he’d come to thank them for the cake they’d given him to say thank you. That could almost be funny.
Please, please, don’t let it be Agi come to cut up rough about the furniture.
To her surprise it turned out to be Bob Collins, looking slightly embarrassed, but sounding forthright enough as he greeted Angie with a warmth she couldn’t quite return.
‘I hope I’m not interrupting,’ he said, glancing between the sisters, ‘and I promise I don’t mean to … Well, I could have got this all wrong, and if I have, I’m sorry, but I wanted you to know that we … that’s me and some of the other parents of Zac’s football team, we’ve had a bit of a whip-round, and I thought I should let you know that the dues are taken care of and we’d love Zac to play in the tournament.’
As a lump formed in Angie’s throat she hardly knew what to say. She’d thought so ill of this man earlier, and the other parents, and now here they were showing her more kindness than she could ever deserve.
‘That’s really lovely of you, Bob,’ Emma told him gently. ‘It’s just been a bit of a difficult time lately, and …’
‘Don’t feel you have to explain,’ he interrupted. ‘I understand that things can get the better of you sometimes. I just want you to know, Angie, that we’re here for you, all of us on Willow Close and here on The Beeches … I guess it’s difficult to ask for help, but if you need anything …’
Angie tried to speak, but only a sob came out.
Going to put an arm around her, Emma thanked Bob again. ‘Will you stay for
a cup of tea?’ she offered.
He was already backing away. ‘I have to run,’ he replied, ‘we’re taking the kids to the pictures tonight.’ A thought suddenly occurred to him. ‘Do you think Zac might like to come with us? I mean, if he’s not doing anything else.’
Zac did want to go, and because she couldn’t allow Bob and Candy Collins to pay for everything, Angie pressed two one-pound coins into his little fist as he was leaving. It wouldn’t get him much, maybe a small bucket of popcorn, but at least he’d have something to share, and she knew that would mean a lot to him.
‘So,’ she said to Emma, returning to the kitchen after seeing Zac off, ‘how did you get on at Melvin’s? Was his wife there?’
Emma frowned slightly. ‘She answered the door. She’s quite odd, isn’t she?’
Angie shook her head. ‘I’ve never met her. Why do you say that?’
Emma shrugged. ‘Well, she wasn’t rude, exactly, but when I told her why I was there she didn’t invite me in. She just took the cake and said that she’d make sure Melvin got it.’
‘Was he there?’
‘Yes, because he came out before I could get to the footbridge and called me back to apologize for not asking me in. He said the cake was a lovely gesture, but we shouldn’t have.’
‘And you said?’
Emma’s eyebrows arched comically. ‘I told him he was our hero and that we really couldn’t have managed without him yesterday, which we couldn’t, and you’ll never guess what, he blushed. Isn’t that cute? How many men do you know who are even capable of blushing?’ She sighed theatrically. ‘Such a shame he’s married,’ she commented, glancing at her nails, ‘because I think he likes me.’
Amused, Angie said, ‘What makes you say that?’
‘It must have been when he asked if a shag was out of the question that gave him away. Of course, I had to tell him I’m busy tonight, but …’
‘You are such a wind-up,’ Angie groaned, going to put the kettle on.
‘I prefer to call myself a dreamer,’ Emma sighed, sinking down at the table. ‘Anyway, he was obviously embarrassed about the way his wife had behaved and he said if we need help with anything else we know where to find him. I thanked him and made it clear that there won’t always be a cake at the end of it, and that made him laugh. It’s lovely when you make someone laugh, isn’t it? Not as good as a blush, or maybe it’s better.’
Thinking of how much Steve had made her laugh, and of the short text from Martin that had pleased her so much, Angie circled her arms round Emma’s neck and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. It was important to make the most of these light-hearted moments when so much was going wrong in her world, and when even more could be awaiting her.
They spent the next hour or so carrying out an Internet search for jobs that Angie could fit around Bridging the Gap – or something that would pay her well enough to start a whole new career. Not that they hadn’t done this before, many times, but things could change by the day, and maybe the answer to everything was no more than a few clicks away.
‘Here’s one,’ Emma said after a while, turning her screen so Angie could see it. ‘You can work your own hours from home as a customer-service agent.’
Angie’s eyes were tired as she looked at it. ‘I’ve seen it before,’ she said, ‘and it isn’t real. Agencies post things like that just to get you to sign up with them, then they keep offering you something completely different, and pressure you to take it.’
Emma pointed out another. ‘How about becoming a carer? They’re looking for someone to do night shifts at Greensleeves, where Craig’s the resident entertainer.’
With a small nod, Angie said, ‘I could give them a call, but if it’s more than three nights a week …’ She shook her head irritably. ‘I’m being too picky, I know. Actually, I’m starting to wonder if I might be better off not having a job at all. My credits would probably increase, and I’d have all the time in the world to spend with the children …’
‘You’d also have the jobcentre breathing down your neck every five minutes, trying to force you to take any old thing, and docking your allowance if you don’t.’
Knowing how true that was, Angie made a note to contact Greensleeves on Monday, and a local agency that specialized in ‘temporary’ and ‘home work’, and shut down her computer.
It was past nine by the time Grace messaged to let them know she was staying at Lois’s, and just after that Zac came back dying to tell them all about the movie he’d seen, how much he’d had to eat and drink at Pizza Hut afterwards, and how someone had almost run in front of the car. Though he was doing a valiant job of hiding his tiredness Angie could see it, so she sent him to get ready for bed, and by the time she went to tuck him in he was already asleep.
‘I shouldn’t be too late for Brenda,’ she said to Emma, trying to hide her misery as she reached for her coat. ‘It wouldn’t be fair.’
‘No of course not,’ Emma agreed, coming with her to the door.
As Angie stepped outside the night air enveloped her in its icy grip, and after giving her sister a hug she set off to spend another night in the van.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
On Monday morning, after spending a third torturous night in the van, Angie arrived at the church office to collect the keys for Bridging the Gap, and found the place deserted. She called out, expecting Rosa, the vicar’s wife, or Ivan, the parish manager, to appear at any minute, but no one did.
Her heart started to pound. She had to seize this opportunity – it was God given and would harm no one, she reminded herself – and allowing herself no more time to think she moved swiftly across the room to the cabinet where the keys were kept. Finding the one to BtG in its usual place, she unhooked it, helped herself to the one next to it as well and stuffed both into her pocket.
Despite the sub-zero temperature it was a bright morning with a heavy frost sparkling on the brown beech hedge that ran alongside the road, making the cobwebs glisten like crystals as she passed along the scattered stone path to her own office. She was warmer now than when she’d got to Emma’s earlier, but not much, for it felt as though the freezing cold of the past three nights had seeped right into her bones.
Once again she’d been at Emma’s before the children had woken, and after making breakfast for all four of them and quickly cleaning her teeth while Emma sorted out sports kits and book bags, she’d ironed Grace’s white shirt, then driven them all to school. Emma stayed behind to clear up and wait for a plumber to come and sort out the washing machine. Of all the times for it to break down there could hardly be a worse one, when it was required to take twice as many loads.
Letting herself into the BtG office, Angie closed the glass-panelled door behind her, dropped her bag on her desk, piled her coat on top of it and went through to the washroom. It had only a tiny handbasin the size of a fruit bowl, a low loo with an old-fashioned pull-chain cistern and a steel box on the wall for paper towels. There was no heating, no mat on the floor or lock on the door, but at least there was a half-decent mirror, and the hot tap eventually produced a flow of warm water.
She washed herself quickly, teeth chattering with cold as she peeled away her clothes, elbows and back bumping the chilly brick walls as she contorted herself into useful positions. To her frustration she’d forgotten to bring a towel and deodorant from the van. At least she’d remembered clean underwear, and managed to step into it without too many staggers before tugging her jeans back on. Her thermal vest was fresh on today – she’d changed in the van this morning while it was still dark, skin prickling with the fear of someone arriving early at the station and spotting her. She’d also brushed her hair before going to see the children; Grace would have noticed right away if she hadn’t.
Feeling marginally better after her attempted freshen-up, she returned to the office, put her coat back on, picked up her bag and left.
Twenty minutes later she was at Timpson’s in midtown, waiting for a copy of the borrowed key to be m
ade. She felt terrible doing this, as though she were a criminal, and maybe she was, but she’d rather be arrested and thrown into a police cell for the night than face another in the van. She knew she was lucky to have a vehicle, that dozens of others in this very town had no roof at all unless they were fortunate enough to make it into one of the shelters. She simply couldn’t handle the cold any longer, much less the terror of being so alone and such easy prey to any madman or gang that might stumble upon her. She’d hardly slept since losing her home, and when she had she was so tormented by fears of attack or worse that on waking it was virtually impossible to know where her nightmares began and ended.
Taking the new and old key from a greasy-haired youth, she pulled a five-pound note from her purse and received change of forty-five pence. Now, for the princely sum of four pounds fifty-five, she should be under cover until the local authority could find a proper home for her and the children.
A proper home. Who was she kidding? She knew very well that council-allocated properties almost never fitted the description of ‘proper’ and though the worst ones were usually described as temporary, plenty of people were still in them several years later.
However, she had to try and stay upbeat, somehow make herself believe that a decent place might come up earlier than expected. Easier was to switch her mind to the day ahead and all she needed to get through. It couldn’t be all about her and her predicament, she had other responsibilities, not least to her residents.
Following two back-to-back meetings with potential new sponsors she returned to the van and made a call to Greensleeves Care Home to enquire about the position of carer.
The job was still available, but they had a long list of people to interview and as she had no experience in the field … Blah, blah, everything she’d expected, but at least they were polite.