‘Ah, Mrs Tipcott, what can I do you for?’ Doug had always said this and it had never been funny. Rosie did, however, like the sound of her name. It made her feel safe being referred to as a Mrs, as if people knew she had back-up if it were needed. Now, though, she wasn’t so sure; that back-up had made other arrangements and she felt adrift. Her maiden name was Watson; she’d forgotten what it felt like to be Rosie Watson.
‘Can I have a word, Doug?’
‘You can have several!’ He smiled, his humour as unamusing as it was predictable.
‘I was wondering if you had any more hours? I don’t mind if it’s not cleaning. I can do the bar, or litter patrol, anything...’ She felt her cheeks flame, aware how desperate she sounded.
‘How many more hours are you thinking?’ He leant back in his chair. His polo shirt rode up to reveal a cushion of hairy white stomach that sat over the top of his waistband.
She looked away, directing her gaze over his shoulder and praying that Susan would come back soon. ‘I don’t really know. I just need to earn more.’
‘Well, yes, I must admit I’d been half expecting you to come by.’
‘Oh?’
‘This is a small town, Rosie, and people talk.’
People like you... She swallowed the sentence.
‘I haven’t said anything to the staff, because it’s your business. All I can say is, the bloke must want his bumps feeling. I mean, he’s got the lot, hasn’t he? You and them two little ’uns.’ He shook his head and she realised that what Doug probably wanted more than most was just that. ‘I shall do my best to shuffle things around and see what I can come up with. I take it you want school hours?’
‘After the holidays, yes.’ She nodded.
‘Well, as you know, that’s when we get quieter, but some of the casuals are off then, so it might be possible. Leave it with me. I’ll see what I can do.’
Doug stood up and for a horrible moment she thought he was going to try and hug her. She shrank back against the wall. He arched backwards and gurned as he reached into the tight front pocket of his jeans.
‘Here you go. I want you to take this and treat the kids to some chips or whatever.’ He waved a twenty-pound note in front of her.
‘Oh, Doug, no! That is so kind of you, but...’
‘No buts.’ He walked forwards and placed the money in her palm. ‘We’re a little family up here on this site and this is what we do, we look after our own. Now go on, Rosie, get out before I get all semi-mental on you.’ He winked.
‘Thank you, Doug.’ She smiled at the man who had shamed her with his beautiful act of kindness.
*
Back at Arlington Road, Rosie let herself in and tried to ignore the toys, clothes and rubbish that littered the floor. Her grand tidy-up hadn’t lasted long. ‘Helloooo?’ she called.
‘In here!’ Mel shouted. She and the girls were watching CBBC. Mel’s eyes were rimmed with a large stroke of green eye shadow and bright red lipstick sat in a garish circle on and around her lips. ‘We’ve been playing makeovers.’ She nodded at her friend.
‘So I see. I’m sorry I missed that.’
‘We can still do you, Mum!’ Leona piped up from where she lay on her front, kicking her legs up behind her.
‘Lovely. Maybe after tea.’
‘Is Dad coming home for tea?’ Naomi asked without prising her eyes from the screen.
‘No, darling.’ She looked at Mel. ‘Not tonight.’
‘Is he coming tomorrow night?’ She turned to her mum, revealing her own makeover of glitter-covered cheeks and a butterfly sticker on her forehead.
‘I don’t know.’ Rosie cursed the familiar prick of tears that stung the back of her eyes.
‘Can I phone him?’ Naomi sat up, looking a little overwhelmed.
‘Of course you can.’ She smiled.
‘Can I phone him now?’ She sat up straight. Talking to her dad was becoming urgent.
‘Yep. I’ll grab my phone.’ She took her phone from her bag, pressed his number and handed it straight to Naomi. ‘There you go, love, it’s ringing.’
Naomi stood up and held the phone with two hands under her chin. ‘Hello, Dad? Daddy?’
The answerphone message was loud in the room. ‘...after the tone, please leave your message.’
Naomi swallowed. ‘Hi, Dad, erm, we’ve been doing makeovers and I want you to come home for tea and I don’t know when you’re coming home and...’ Her tears spilled, her expression of utter distress was torturous to see. ‘I’ve made you a card and it’s under my mattress and I’ll give it to you when you come home. Bye.’
She handed her mum the phone. As she made to walk out of the room, Rosie tried to catch her.
‘Can I have a hug?’ she asked, but her little girl slipped her arm from her grip and made her way up the stairs.
‘She probably needs five minutes,’ Mel offered sagely. ‘How was work?’
‘Same old. But Doug was really kind to me, said he’d heard.’
‘Oh God, he wasn’t offering to warm you up on those cold winter nights, was he?’ Mel shivered.
‘No, actually he was trying to be nice. He’s going to see if he can get me some more hours after the holidays when some of the casuals have left.’
‘That’s good.’
‘Yeah. I can’t even think about money and things, I can only just about think about tonight.’ She sighed. ‘I was wondering about the car earlier. I mean, it’s our car, our house, how is it all going to work?’ She closed her eyes at the enormity of the thought.
‘I guess when things are a bit more settled, you guys will sit down and figure it all out. I s’pose that’s the one thing about where he’s gone, it’s not as if they’re strapped for cash,’ Mel said casually.
‘Well, good for them.’ Rosie gave a false grin.
‘That sounded crap, but you know what I mean.’ Mel tried to smooth the awkwardness. ‘Anyway, on a brighter note, our barbecue is next Saturday!’
Rosie shook her head. ‘Oh God, Mel, do you mind if I give it a miss?’
‘Yes, I do. You’re my best friend and it won’t be half as good for me without you there, plus it’ll be a laugh and it’d do you good to get out and see everyone.’
‘I really don’t want to go out and I definitely don’t want to see everyone. I couldn’t cope with everyone asking me questions or making out everything was fine and carrying on as normal. I’ll skip it this year, Mel. Don’t be mad.’ She smiled.
‘I won’t be mad if you’re sure that’s what you want, and we’ll all miss your coleslaw!’
‘I can still make the salads if you like?’
‘No! I’m only kidding. It’s all taken care of. I will miss you being there, though. Who’s going to listen to Kayleigh with me?’
Rosie rolled her eyes. ‘We can have a coffee after and you can fill me in.’ She looked up towards the ceiling. ‘Think I’ll go check on Nay.’
‘I’ve got to be off anyway. Andy’s going out for a pint and will want feeding before he goes and I don’t want him dragging Tyler up the pub again – he’s the only nine-year-old in the country with his own bar stool!’
The two women looked at each other. Rosie could guess from Mel’s slightly hesitant tone that Andy was meeting Phil. She had so many questions. It was an unfamiliar awkwardness from them both.
Mel grabbed her car keys and phone that sat in a pile on the arm of the chair.
‘Thanks for watching them today.’ Rosie spoke over her shoulder as she made her way upstairs.
‘No worries. That’s what friends are for.’
Naomi was lying on her bed, facing the wall.
‘Knock knock,’ Rosie said as she entered.
‘I’m okay,’ the little girl managed through her tears.
‘Oh, darling, you don’t sound okay.’ Rosie lay on the bed and spooned the shaking form of her daughter, pulling her towards her and kissing her hair. ‘Please don’t cry, Nay.’
‘I’m crying b
ecause I’m sad.’
‘I know, darling.’
‘I want my dad to come home! I want him to have his tea here with us and not at the new house. I don’t like it, Mum.’
‘I don’t like it either, but you know, don’t you, that no matter where your dad is, he loves you very, very much. You and Leo are his best things, his best things ever! And that doesn’t change, no matter where he is, and it never will. Whether you are eight or fifty-eight, you will always be his best things.’ She saw Mo’s smiling face, and heard her words. ‘I’m very proud of you Rosie, for making this the best it can be for my granddaughters.’
Naomi wormed round until she was facing her mum. ‘But I miss him.’
Rosie nodded. ‘I miss him too.’
‘Then why don’t you tell him? Tell him that you miss him and he can come home now.’ She spoke earnestly.
‘I wish it was that simple, honey, but it isn’t. I promise you though, Nay, that we will both always love you to the moon and back, and you will always be safe and happy, we will make sure of it, because no matter what happens between Daddy and me, you and Leo will always come first. You don’t have to worry.’ She tried out a smile of reassurance. ‘I promise.’
‘Do you want to see the card I made him?’ Naomi brightened.
‘I’d love to!’
Wriggling off the bed, she knelt on the floor and placed her hand under the mattress, pulling out a piece of folded card with an elaborate picture on the front. She had drawn a line down the middle of the card and on one side was a crudely drawn swimming pool with two stick figures in it and on the other side was a table of odd perspective, flat with four legs splayed at the corners and four stick figures floating around it. The swimming pool had a big red cross drawn through it.
‘I’ve drawn that new house and put this mark through it so Daddy knows that’s not where I want him to be, and this is us, having our tea around the table because that was when I used to make him laugh and I think if he sees this he will know that he wants to come and sit around the table with me.’
Rosie turned her face into her little girl’s pillow and tried to hide her distress.
Naomi patted her mum’s shoulder. ‘Please don’t cry, Mum.’
She was finishing her rounds of checking the windows, blowing out the candles, and looking in on the girls when her phone buzzed. It was Phil and her heart leapt.
‘It’s eleven o’clock,’ was how she answered the call.
‘I just got Nay’s message.’
She could tell he’d had a drink; the slight slur to his words was a giveaway. ‘Oh, I’ll go and wake her up, shall I?’ She instantly regretted her sarcasm; thankfully he didn’t seem to notice.
‘No! No, don’t do that. I’ll call her tomorrow. I would like them to come to tea. I promised, but I don’t want to fight with you. It’s hard.’
She snorted. Again, it was as if he wanted sympathy, as if he was in some way suffering. It sent a ripple of anger through her. ‘This time last month, my life was perfect.’ She spoke her thoughts aloud.
‘But mine wasn’t.’ His response was instant.
‘I guess not.’ She paused. ‘Goodnight, Phil.’ It was late and she was in no mood for this discussion.
‘Goodnight, love you.’
There was a deafening silence while both reflected on his sign-off. It was he that broached it.
‘God, Rosie, I always said that and it just—’
‘Go to hell.’ She ended the call.
*
It was the weekend before the girls were due to go back to school. Their precious Saturday had been spent traipsing around Barnstaple looking for school shoes, new polo shirts and a pencil case each. Rosie quickly tired of having to explain over and over why glittery silver stilettos were not suitable school attire even if they did come in a whole four sizes smaller, which thankfully they didn’t. She glimpsed the joy of their teenage years ahead and it made her smile, despite her exasperation.
‘Everyone in my school has got a pair of Ugg boots apart from me!’ Naomi said.
‘I haven’t got a pair.’ Leona raised her hand as if answering a question.
‘Shut up, Leo!’
‘Don’t talk to her like that!’ Rosie barked.
‘But it’s true, Mum. I am the only one in my class who hasn’t got some Uggs and I’d like some pink ones.’
Rosie knew the price of the boots in question – about a week’s wages. ‘Do you know what, Nay? I’d like a pair too, but until that lottery win comes in, we will both have to wait.’
The girls had continued to be crotchety until the promise of a Happy Meal, a rare treat, lifted their spirits.
It was now early evening and they were tucked up asleep. A light knock on the door drew Rosie from the comfort of the sofa.
‘Mo! What are you doing out at this time of night?’
Her mother-in-law tutted. ‘It’s only half seven!’
‘Oh, I suppose it is. We’ve had a long day and it feels like midnight. I’m just not used to seeing you out and about so late.’
‘Well, talking of out and about,’ Mo said, coming in and shrugging off her cardigan, ‘I thought I’d come and sit with the girls while you went to Mel and Andy’s do.’
‘That is so sweet of you, but I’ve told Mel I’ll give it a rest this year. I don’t feel up to going out. I don’t really want to see anyone.’
‘And that’s precisely why you should go. You can’t hide away here forever, love.’
She smiled at the concern in Mo’s tone. ‘It won’t be forever, just until I’m feeling a bit stronger.’
‘You are only going to feel stronger by getting out and doing stuff, no matter how hard it is at first. It’s true, so go!’ Mo flapped her hand as though her gesture could shush Rosie out of the door – it worked with the cat.
Rosie sighed. ‘But I look awful.’ She scooped her hair up and let it fall. ‘I haven’t got anything to wear and I usually make the coleslaw.’
‘You look lovely, honestly. You’ve lost weight, you know.’
‘It’s not a diet I’d recommend.’ She had to admit, though, that she was pleased to have shed some of her excess pounds.
‘I’m sure, my lovely, but the fact is, you have and you really do look wonderful. Sad, but still beautiful. And you have lots of nice tops. Besides, it’s only a barbeque, you don’t need a ball gown. Just go shove a top on and I can whip up a bowl of coleslaw in a couple of minutes!’
‘But...’
‘But what, Rosie? You are running out of excuses and I want you to go and have a glass of wine and a giggle. It will do you the world of good.’
‘I don’t want to see Phil.’ And there it was, the real reason.
‘You won’t. He’s gone to London.’ Mo folded her cardigan and placed it on the bannister, avoiding further questions about why and with whom.
‘To London?’ Rosie felt her stomach crumple at this. Another reason to feel bereft, lost, left behind. London! She tried to picture him in the big city with his rich girlfriend on his arm and she knew that he had left her far, far behind. She took a deep breath. It might not be London, but this was where her life lay. She decided there and then to go to the barbeque, plus it wasn’t as if Mo was going to take no for an answer.
‘All right then. You make the coleslaw and I’ll go and clean my teeth and try and find a clean top.’
‘That’s my girl!’ Mo clapped.
Rosie smiled at her, the closest thing to a mum that she could ever wish for.
Half an hour later, she trod the stairs, trying not to wake the girls and still getting used to the wedged espadrilles that she hadn’t worn for years. She had found a white muslin shirt with a tie fastening and flared sleeves. Very boho. Mo was right, she had lost weight; the top used to be snug on her arms and across her shoulders but now skimmed her shape nicely. With a white vest underneath and two strings of multi-coloured glass beads that she had picked up in Primark, she knew she would pass muster.
‘I don’t feel it, not really.’ She felt sick at the prospect of going to a social event without Phil. It wasn’t that they stuck together, joined at the hip, but she always took great comfort from knowing he was close by, just in case.
‘You’re going to be fine. The first time for anything is always the worst. Just take a deep breath.’
Rosie did just that and Mo disappeared into the kitchen and emerged with her mixing bowl full of coleslaw. It looked and smelt wonderful, just the right amount of mayonnaise and a pinch of cayenne pepper on the top to give it a kick.
‘Oh, this looks lovely. Thanks, Mo. I will of course be claiming it as my own.’ She smiled and took the large bowl into her hands.
‘I shan’t tell a soul, now off you go! Have a lovely evening and don’t worry about the time. If I get sleepy, I’ll just nod off on the sofa and if you’re really late, I’ll stay there till the morning.’
‘Mo, it’s Mel’s barbeque not a nightclub! I’ll have a glass of plonk, a raw chicken leg and I’ll be home in a bit.’ She turned, swivelled the bowl and reached for the front door. Then she hesitated and turned back. ‘Do you really think this is a good idea?’ Her nerves were making her feel sick.
‘Go!’ Mo shushed with her hand, and this time it worked.
She decided to walk the ten minutes across town rather than lose her parking space outside her house and then battle to find one in Mel’s street. Groups of teens out for the night and surfies with lithe lovelies in tow nodded at her large bowl of coleslaw, which she held protectively in front of her. She had to admit it was an unusual accessory.
Her heart raced as she drew nearer, her nerves palpable. You can do this! she whispered to herself, trying to feel strong, courageous. Rounding the corner, she saw the wisps of grey smoke floating up from behind their house, could smell the woody, aromatic scent of food on the barbeque and hear the dull thud of music from the outside speaker. There was the faint tinkle of laughter and the odd shout, evidence of a party in full swing.
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