It was his mother’s turn to come to him. ‘You are the best son in the world,’ she said, flinging her arms around his back and hugging him. ‘I knew you’d understand.’
Joe kissed the top of her head and left them to eat the remainder of their breakfast. As he showered and dried himself, he decided that he needed to rethink his living arrangements. Clearly his mother and Roger weren’t going anywhere, and as much as Joe loved his mother he knew from experience that the two of them got along better when they weren’t under each other’s feet.
He transferred some money into her account, then yawned and closed his eyes again, relieved to give in to sleep.
* * *
He woke a couple of hours later to the sound of another argument. Groaning, Joe rubbed his eyes and sat up. He leant against the pink headboard and sighed.
‘If you didn’t want to return to live in England again, you should have said so,’ Faye yelled from the room next door. ‘Nobody forced you to come with me.’
‘This isn’t England though, is it?’ Roger retaliated. ‘This is a small island and I don’t know a soul.’
‘You know me. You know Joe, too.’
‘It’s not the same, Faye,’ he shouted, sounding frustrated at her lack of understanding. ‘And you know it.’
‘Not again,’ Joe grumbled, glancing at the clock. He might not need too much sleep but he needed more than three and a half hours if he was to be alert enough for his shift later that night. He realised they had gone quiet and, feeling hopeful that the pair of them were about to make up, slid back down on his bed and closed his eyes.
A door slammed and woke Joe with a start. He peered at the clock, relieved to see he had enjoyed another three hours’ sleep. He closed his eyes and hoped his mother and Roger might have gone out and left him alone in the house.
‘Roger!’ Faye shouted. ‘Why haven’t you brought in both pots of paint from the car?’
They must have gone out to a hardware store while he slept. No wonder he hadn’t been woken earlier. He decided he may as well get up because clearly there would be little reason for him to stay in bed now, not if Roger and his mother were about to start decorating.
He heard them bickering again in the bedroom, this time about her spending most of the money Joe had given them for the decorating on a pair of red leather shoes.
‘Why shouldn’t I treat myself occasionally?’ he heard Faye snap.
Irritated to hear that it had taken no time at all before his mother spent the money he had sent her on something frivolous, Joe listened as their quibbling continued.
‘But you do treat yourself, Faye,’ Roger snapped. ‘And often. It’s why we’re living in this tiny bungalow with your thirty-year-old son as our landlord.’
‘How can he be our landlord when we’re not paying him anything?’
Joe sighed as he got out of bed and wondered as he showered whether his mother had married Roger because she felt guilty about spending his savings, or maybe they did love each other and just didn’t get along all that well. Whichever reason was behind their marriage, it was a tumultuous relationship and not one he could live with for much longer.
He shampooed his hair and tried to figure out what to do about his living arrangements. He was unable to come up with anything useful. Maybe he needed another coffee to help wake him up a bit. The thought of coffee reminded him of bumping into Brodie that morning and then what Brodie had told him. Lettie needed to step back from running the farm.
He could move in and help her out, while resolving his own living situation, at least for the time being.
He picked up his phone and, deciding to meet up with her to discuss the matter further, gave Brodie a call.
5
SKYE
Skye tucked her hair behind her ears, wishing she hadn’t uncharacteristically succumbed to the trend for wearing her hair in a French bob. She knew others loved the style and she did too, on someone else, but she was finding it more difficult than expected to keep her hair out of her face and it was getting on her nerves. She made a mental note to buy hair clips so that she was better prepared next time she went out.
Picking up her phone, Skye called Melody.
‘So you’ve thought about my suggestion then?’
‘I have. Tell me more about Lettie and Hollyhock Farm so I can make up my mind.’
Skye listened as Melody told her about her boyfriend Zac’s family home on the island of Jersey and how his pregnant sister was in desperate need of help. ‘It’s coming up to harvesting time for those tasty little potatoes we get at the supermarket,’ she explained. ‘You know the ones Gran always tries to get as soon as they are stocked in the shops.’
‘I do,’ Skye said, recalling her surprise at the excitement for a bag of tiny potatoes, then the delicious taste when Patsy served them up to her and Melody. ‘But I don’t know anything about harvesting.’ Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, Skye thought.
