by Helen Rolfe
On day four of her stay, Audrey was faced with a new rule. Keeping her door open while she did her schoolwork. This came when Gran caught her sitting opposite her mirror experimenting with make-up when she was supposed to be studying. And it hadn’t gone down well.
‘You look like you’ve got war paint on,’ Veronica told her.
‘I haven’t finished yet. I’ve got to blend it all in.’ Even her mum never came into her room without knocking. She picked up her beauty blender sponge to go over the concealer she’d dotted on areas she wanted to contour.
‘Whatever are you trying to do?’
At least Gran was taking an interest, that was a positive. ‘I’m enhancing the structure of my face. I want to highlight the tops of my cheekbones; I want to shadow my jawline to give a better shape.’
Veronica shook her head. ‘Nothing wrong with the shape of your face – wait till you get to my age and then you’ll know all about losing shape.’
Audrey smiled, but her grin faded when Gran told her that from now on, she’d have to work with the door open. She didn’t come up here often, but when she did, she expected Audrey to be beavering away with school work, not doing her make-up.
Audrey wondered how many of these rules had been set by her mum, or whether these were exactly the types of rules and regulations that had driven her mum away from Mapleberry. As far as Audrey understood it, Sam had got on better with her auntie than her own mother – that’s why they’d come down for her funeral. But Audrey had long since given up trying to work out what was going on in this family, certainly on her mum’s side. Her dad’s side was totally different. It was only him for a start. He was an only child; his parents were long gone and now he was in New Zealand. And his life looked amazing. When he’d written to Audrey a couple of weeks ago, he’d sent photographs of a holiday to somewhere called the Bay of Islands. He’d been scuba diving and sailing, and shared stunning pics of the landscape that Audrey yearned to see for herself.
Two weeks of this. Two weeks and the rules would have to relax when term finished.
‘What do you think about this colour?’ Veronica turned round the iPad to show her granddaughter the wool website she was browsing.
Audrey shrugged and instead went into the kitchen to cut a piece of the lemon drizzle covered by a plastic cloche.
‘Not that,’ Veronica called out, the sound of the cloche lifting enough to alert her. The woman didn’t suffer from hearing problems, that was for sure.
Audrey went over to where Veronica had taken out her sewing kit. ‘Why not?’
‘There’s not much left.’
‘There’s quite a bit.’ Audrey had seen three generous slices. ‘Expecting company?’
‘As a matter of fact, I am.’
Finally. ‘Who’s coming?’ Since she and her mum had arrived and Sam had subsequently left, not a soul – unless you counted the gardener who knocked on the door or the mailman who came this morning – had stepped over the threshold of the Bentley residence. Audrey was beginning to wonder whether Veronica actually had any friends – or wasn’t it a thing when you got to her age?
‘My friend, Layla.’
‘Then there’s one piece each.’ With less of a defensive attitude, she got her way when Veronica told her to help herself. ‘Thanks, Gran. All the studying makes me hungry.’
‘How much more is there to do?’ she called through to the kitchen where Audrey was lifting a slice onto a plate. ‘It must be wrapping up with the end of the school year.’
‘It’s starting to, thank goodness. After next week I’ll be free as a bird.’ When there was a knock at the door, Audrey headed off to answer it. She left her cake in the kitchen of course; she knew better than to run the risk of dropping crumbs. And now she was craving company and she wanted to meet this Layla, see what she was like; perhaps she’d inject a bit of life into the house. There certainly wasn’t much atmosphere here since she’d arrived.
But when she opened the door, it wasn’t anyone with grey hair or wrinkles, it was a little girl with a bright pink backpack. ‘Can I help you?’
‘I’m Layla.’ She held out her hand to shake.
‘Audrey.’ Stunned, she shook her hand and stood back to let her inside. Gran’s only friend wasn’t what Audrey had expected at all.
Audrey went back to her cake and listened to Gran give Layla a warm welcome, nattering on about a funny calendar of sorts.
‘Audrey, bring in the other two slices, would you.’ Veronica’s demeanour had lifted a notch, as though she wasn’t the same woman who’d done housework for the last few days, watched television, cooked and pottered about as though she had no place to be in the near future and was solely responsible for making sure Audrey didn’t get up to no good.
Audrey delivered a slice of lemon drizzle to Layla and one to Veronica. So they ate at the table or in the kitchen – unless Layla was involved. Favouritism ruled. Audrey would’ve found it funny if she didn’t see her favourite jeans on Veronica’s lap. She put down her plate. ‘What the hell are you doing?’ she boomed.
‘Excuse me?’
‘What are you doing to my jeans?’ She snatched them back before Veronica could push a needle into the fabric. She’d saved up to buy these, a trendy pair with rips at the knees, a pair she liked to wear with an off-the-shoulder black top that showed off her collar bones.
‘I’m fixing them for you. You won’t want those holes in them come winter.’
‘The holes are supposed to be there!’ Audrey yelled, shocking both Gran and Layla into silence. ‘It’s called fashion!’
‘You need to go to your room and calm down, young lady.’ Gran’s stern expression had Layla looking to Audrey and Veronica in turn, her mouth open as she pushed in another piece of cake, almost forgetting to chew with the drama that was unfolding.
Audrey stropped upstairs and pushed in her earphones, drowning out her thoughts with music, and she stayed there a good hour until her tummy grumbled that it needed to be fed the rest of the slice of cake she’d abandoned.
She crept downstairs and into the kitchen. Gran and Layla were talking about something called a kindness calendar. Layla was prattling on about boys and girls in her class and whose name was written down first. Audrey finished her cake quietly and took the opportunity to escape. Now Veronica had her friend, she might not launch into the usual questioning every time Audrey moved, particularly in the direction of the front door – but Audrey wasn’t quick enough this time.
‘Audrey, could you come here please?’
Audrey stood in the doorway looking at Gran.
‘I’m sorry I nearly ruined your jeans, Audrey, but this is my house – I won’t have you yelling at me.’
Audrey almost walked off and out the door, but something stopped her – either a desire to set the right example for Layla or the hope her mum wouldn’t hear about this. ‘I apologise.’
‘Fine, then let’s move on.’ Gran pulled a five-pound note from her purse. ‘Now, could you please go over to the shops and pick up some more toilet rolls? We’re almost out, but the little corner shop is open until late.’
Audrey took the fiver. ‘Sure.’ At least it was a reprieve – time off for good behaviour.
Last night Audrey had gone out for a walk at nine o’clock and Veronica had all but blocked the front door until Audrey told her to go with her if she didn’t believe her. She’d backed off then and Audrey had made her way to the small high street where there was nothing open but an off licence. All she wanted was a wander, a bit of space, and after a lap she went back towards Gran’s and sat on the swing in the playground opposite the house. She stayed there until the sun began to fade. She’d seen Veronica’s shutters move a few times when she was over there too – Gran seemed to think because the wooden slats gave her a lot of privacy, nobody could detect when they moved from their tilted position to more horizontal enabling her to see out – but if she had a curfew and was supposed to be home, Audrey decided her gran should stop
being lazy and come over to get her. Honestly, it was the height of summer and Veronica hadn’t so much as walked to the end of the path and down the road. She’d get sores from sitting too long if she wasn’t careful.
Audrey pocketed the fiver and decided she’d call Sid before she went to the shop. Over in the playground she sat on the swing the second a young boy vacated it. She messaged Sid to see if he could talk and when he called, it was a relief to hear a familiar voice.
‘You’re so far away,’ he told her.
‘Miles,’ she said. ‘How’s work?’
‘Last day today. I think Dad sees me as more of a hindrance than a help. I talk too much apparently.’ It was something he was forever being told off for at school. Sid wanted to be an actor, a choice his parents didn’t wholly approve of, and a reason why he and Audrey understood one another so well. ‘What’s it like living with your gran?’
‘She’s pretty strict and she watches me, like, all the time.’
‘Is she watching you now?’
‘Well no, but…’
‘She must have her own life.’
‘Not really. I wish she did. Then she’d have some hobbies so there’d be less focus on me. But she does have a visitor right now so I took the chance to escape.’
‘When are you coming home?’
Home…interesting word, given that the house she’d grown up in and that she loved probably wouldn’t be theirs for much longer. Sid’s parents were at least still together and they were a family. They might not understand him but he still had a solid foundation. Audrey felt as though her world was too messy to make sense of; she didn’t feel like she had a solid place in it. She knew her mum cared about her but she didn’t see her, not really, not beneath the surface anyway. All she saw was what she wanted to see, the troubled teen, the girl getting in trouble. She said she supported Audrey’s dreams and aspirations, but Audrey wouldn’t mind betting the pressure to go on to A levels after GCSEs and not enrol in a make-up artist course would soon be back.
Audrey and Sid chatted until Audrey’s phone battery died but she still didn’t go back to the house yet. She wanted to taste a bit more freedom, so she walked around the block, past the bigger houses with their grand gates, a couple of cute thatched cottages, another playground where she went on the roundabout before she got bored. She went back to the playground in front of Gran’s house and went on the swing again. She could do this for hours, soaring higher and higher towards the clouds, the different colours above that took the sky from day to night as the sun set.
When she eventually went back to the house, she had one foot on the stair to go and put her phone on charge before she made some toast before Veronica appeared. ‘I thought you’d be in bed,’ she smiled, but it soon faded when she got a glare in return.
‘What time do you call this?’
She looked at her watch. ‘Ten fifteen.’
‘You know what I mean. Didn’t we say no staying out late on a school night?’
‘Er, I don’t go to school.’
‘Same rules though, Audrey, and your mother did ask me to keep them in place until summer.’
There was no way she wanted to completely take the piss and have her phone confiscated. She didn’t even want to be sent home, much as she missed Sid. ‘I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.’
‘Thank you. Now, have you had enough to eat?’
‘I’m going to make toast after I put my phone on charge.’ She held up the device as though to justify her trip up the stairs.
Veronica let her get on with what she was doing. Her phone plugged in, Audrey went to make toast, cutting off thick pieces of bread which she slathered in butter and jam. She’d just put her plate in the sink and mumbled a goodnight when Veronica called her back.
‘Audrey, you’ve left crumbs everywhere, the side of the jam jar is smeared with raspberry jam, and the plate should go in the dishwasher.’
Eyes sent heavenward and cheeks puffed out, she sorted the mess, wiping the sticky jar and slotting the plate in the bottom rack of the dishwasher. ‘There, happy?’
‘There’s no need to be rude.’
‘I’m going to my room.’
Veronica’s voice followed her. ‘Audrey, where are the toilet rolls?’
She pulled the fiver from her jeans pocket and left it on the shelf in the hallway. ‘I forgot.’
‘But Audrey, we don’t have enough left.’
‘Then stop being so lazy and go get them yourself!’ She hadn’t meant to be so spiteful but it flew out before she could control it. She was sick of the constant observation, as though she was Layla’s age, not fifteen. ‘I hate all the obsessing about what I’m doing, how I’m behaving, what I’m saying. It’s no different to living with Mum!’
Gran looked too shocked at her outburst to do or say anything else and Audrey ran upstairs, put her phone on charge and threw herself onto her bed. She shouldn’t have yelled, she knew it wasn’t fair, but today was one of those days when her temper flared.
When her phone woke up again, she texted Sid but if she thought she’d get a ton of sympathy she was mistaken. Most of his advice was to go and apologise or she’d feel much worse in the morning. Audrey put it off as long as she could before sheepishly venturing out onto the landing. She could hear the low murmuring of the television, the odd chuckle from her gran. It was as though this little house was her world and Audrey had come like a meteor to smash everything into pieces. She didn’t want that; she was sick of being the person nobody wanted around.
She crept downstairs and hovered at the lounge door until Gran noticed her.
‘Come in, don’t be shy.’ Gran pressed the mute button on the remote but left the picture dancing away in the background.
‘I’m sorry I yelled. Again.’ Sheepishly she added, ‘And I’m sorry about the toilet rolls.’
‘We have a couple left, just use it sparingly.’ Gran looked more nervous than she was. ‘Would you like to sit down, Audrey?’
She nodded and sank down onto the soft sofa. She spent so much time in her room at home and had already done so here but it was stifling and it wasn’t the way Audrey wanted this to go. As much as her mum probably thought she enjoyed being difficult or arguing, she didn’t – she hated it. It was exhausting.
Audrey had wondered if her sitting here meant a big heart-to-heart with her gran; she braced herself for it, but all they talked about was the vegetables Layla had been growing.
‘Layla says the cauliflowers are ready to be pulled from the ground,’ Gran added. ‘She’s done a mighty fine job.’
‘I’ve never had a veggie patch.’
‘I’m sure Layla would take you to see theirs if you asked,’ said Gran. Audrey shrugged. ‘Well anyway, she’ll drop the cauliflowers over tomorrow. I’ll make us a big cauliflower cheese if you like.’
Audrey wrinkled her nose. ‘I’ve never tried it.’
‘Well, it’s about time you did. It was your mum’s favourite.’
‘Yeah?’
‘She never told you?’ Her bright expression faded away as quickly as it had come. ‘I don’t suppose she would. Well, you’ll love it, as long as you like cheese.’
‘I love cheese.’ Audrey began to relax a little as Gran began to talk about how she made it. ‘I’ll serve it with half a jacket potato cooked in the oven – microwaves leave the skin soggy – fresh salad leaves and tomatoes, also from Layla’s garden.’
When Gran had exhausted the details of her speciality cauliflower cheese, Audrey asked, ‘Did you decide on a wool colour?’
Puzzled, Gran realised she’d shown her the line-up earlier when she was investigating on-line. ‘I’m going for plum. Or rich plum to be exact.’
‘Are you going to knit something?’
Gran laughed. ‘What else do you think I’m going to do with it? Yes, I want to knit a jumper and I thought Layla might like some gloves and even a bobble hat.’
As long as she didn’t knit Audrey anything like that
, they’d be safe from another row.
‘Do you knit, Audrey?’
She couldn’t help but let out a laugh. ‘Me, no. I wouldn’t be able to sit still for long enough to concentrate.’
‘Now why doesn’t that surprise me?’ Veronica grinned.
Gran looked quite different when she smiled. Her eyes twinkled with amusement, it lifted her cheekbones and added a rosiness to the skin tone. Audrey wished she’d do something with her hair. It was always scraped back from her face and pulled into a harsh bun at the nape of her neck and she wore zero make-up. With a few little touches, Audrey bet Gran could take at least a decade off her age and she’d likely feel better for it too. She might even want to leave the house.
Maybe it wasn’t so bad in Mapleberry after all.
Chapter Five
Veronica
One minute Veronica thought her granddaughter was the most pleasant, approachable and beautiful creature on this earth, the next she could very well strangle her. She was beginning to understand exactly what Sam meant when she said Audrey could be two very different people.
Veronica pulled the door to the dining room shut behind her. It was only eight o’clock in the morning but Layla was having half an hour on the piano before Bea came to collect her and take her to school. Layla had told her dad that Veronica liked to talk about the kindness calendar so she was getting up half an hour earlier to spend with their neighbour before school. And so far, Charlie was buying it. Unfortunately, the same acceptance couldn’t be said for her granddaughter who stomped down the stairs demanding to know what the racket was and when, approximately, she’d be given a break from it. It was just another thing to upset Audrey, Veronica supposed. So far she’d annoyed her granddaughter by asking her not to eat food in her room, by setting out rules for her study and by trying to mend the jeans which were apparently supposed to have rips in them. Trying to make her granddaughter happy was like walking a tightrope with someone at the other end doing their best to topple her off. Veronica had no idea how she was supposed to get the balance between discipline and love, right, and when she panicked that she never would, her throat constricted and her palms got clammy and unfortunately she found herself snapping at Audrey unnecessarily.