‘You still here?’
Ginny scrunched her tired eyes, then turned to leave.
‘Where you going now?’ bellowed Birdy, causing Lucky to scoot under the sofa.
‘I’m just going to talk to Suzanne a minute, then I’m off to work.’
‘Talk about me, no doubt. Horrible cow. Stab me in the back soon as I turn, wouldn’t you? Where’s my Lee? I want to ring him. Pass me the phone. At least he cares about me.’
Yeah, that’s why he moved to Yorkshire and never calls you.
‘It’s too early to ring him, Mum. He works late so won’t be awake yet, remember?’
Birdy lowered her head. ‘He’s a good boy,’ she mumbled, seemingly talking to herself.
‘I’ll see you later, Mum.’
There came no reply.
Ginny rested her head on the doorframe as soon as she left the living room and took a calming breath.
Suzanne waved her towards the kitchen. ‘What was that all about? I heard raised voices.’
‘Oh, just Mum feeling irritated because she hasn’t got her favourite jam for brekkie. She’ll be okay in a bit.’
Suzanne didn’t look convinced, and Ginny wasn’t surprised, especially if the carer heard some of the names that were spat out. ‘I like your head scarf choice today, Gin.’
Ginny absentmindedly touched the polka dot red-and-white material covering her dark bobbed hair.
‘I always like your 1940s get-up. You always look great.’ Suzanne glanced at her own black pumps. ‘I only wear these for work. I might invest in one of those tea dresses you wear though. Next summer probably. A bit too nippy now. Do you think forty is too old for a tea dress?’
‘No. Wear what you want at any age, chick. I’ll point you in the direction of some online shops.’
‘Lovely. Now, shouldn’t you be getting a wriggle on?’
‘I wanted to talk to you about what happens to this house once a place becomes available in a care home.’
Suzanne shook her head. ‘Don’t worry about that, lovely. The council will sort it. Did you want to move back in?’
I’d rather eat my eyeballs.
‘No. I’m happy in my house.’
‘Don’t blame you. These are nice and that, but I’d much rather have one of those pastel harbour houses up Berry Hill. You’re lucky to have one.’
Ginny had no memory of her dad, but she certainly had a lot to thank him for. Had he not left her his money seven yearsago, she wouldn’t have been able to buy her home or café, which came with a flat above that she rented out.
‘I need to get off. I’ll be back after work. Oh, and please give the cat back to Mary, will you?’
Suzanne saw her to the door and waved her off.
Ginny sat in her old army jeep and stared out the windscreen for a while before starting the engine. There were moments when she liked to pretend she was only alone in the world because her man was in the military during the Second World War. He’d return soon, and they would live happily ever after just like in the old war films she would watch as a girl. But until then, she had to knuckle down and simply get on with things like the women in the 1940s, her heroes. All that hardship, and yet they carried on. They had always been such an inspiration.
She parked up outside her pastel-blue home and quickly nipped indoors to pick up a cardboard box.
Harbour Light Café was just along Harbour End Road, at the bottom of her street, so it didn’t take long for her to walk to work.
Annie and some other staff were already serving customers, so Ginny set about opening her box to place the fake pumpkins it held along the windows.
