‘I know, right. But still, I shouldn’t have gone running out of the salon like that without any explanation. I just wasn’t thinking.’
‘It’s fine, I understand. Is there anything I can do to help? Did you call the police?’
‘I will. Look, don’t worry.’ I blow on my freezing fingers, then shove my hands between my thighs to try to warm them up.
Jennifer frowns. ‘I’m sorry you didn’t find your sister. I know how traumatic it was for you back then.’
‘That’s okay, it’s not your fault. I’m sorry it interfered with my work.’
‘Do you really think it was her?’ Jennifer’s being polite. I’m sure she thinks I was seeing things, and I suppose I can’t blame her.
‘Honestly, it looked just like her. And she was staring at me through the window. Why would anyone else do that?’
‘Maybe you should get back out there and keep looking.’ Her jaw tightens and I can tell this is the last thing she wants me to do, not with a salon full of clients.
‘There’s no point. If Dina wants to talk to me, she knows where I am. She’s obviously run off because she doesn’t want to be found.’
I’m talking as though it was definitely my sister out there, but I know there’s a chance that it wasn’t. That I saw what I wanted to see. Maybe because it’s coming up to ten years since we last had contact. I don’t know. After so long, I think it’s about time we made up. But even if I wanted to, I’m not sure Dina would feel the same way. If it reallywasher, then what on earth is she up to? Why would she return to Shaftesbury but not make contact with me or our father? What does she want?
I refocus on my boss. ‘You should get back to the salon; it was pretty manic out there when I left.’
She waves away my concern. ‘They’ll be fine for a while without me. Anyway, I’ve put Becky in charge. She won’t take any shit.’
‘Good call. There’s an hour until my next client, unless you need me to do anything else?’
‘No. Look at you, you’re shivering. Stay here, have a hot drink and get warm.’
‘Thanks, Jen.’
She gives me a brief nod before heading back into the salon.
I sigh, berating myself for running out on my client like that. The last thing I need is for my boss to be pissed off with me. I’m used to being in her good books. It doesn’t feel right to let her down. I get to my feet, turn on the kettle and take a mug from the cupboard, trying to decide whether I’m in the mood for tea or coffee. Finally, I take one of Becky’s hot chocolate sachets, promising myself I’ll replace it later.
I’m just pouring hot water over the chocolate powder and stirring it in when Jennifer comes striding back into the staffroom.
‘Oh, hey, Jen, do you want a drink?’
‘What the hell is this?’ She waves her phone at me, her eyes blazing.
I put down the kettle, unnerved by her attitude. ‘Sorry, what’swhat?’
She stands in front of me and thrusts her phone into my hand. ‘I don’t frigging believe it! Look at this! Justlook!’
Sixteen
THEN
Diagonal sleet comes at the windscreen, blurring the icy roads. I take the car at a crawl along the narrow country lanes, ignoring the frustrated driver behind me who’s right on my tail, flashing his lights. Ever since I got pregnant, I’ve become far more cautious. I’m not about to risk my unborn child’s life for a time-saving of two minutes. Mr Angry will just have to wait.
I’m finally on my way to Dad’s place to tell him the news. I’ve been putting it off for weeks, in the wake of Dina’s lukewarm response. Mainly because I don’t want Dad’s lack of enthusiasm to further rain on my parade. It’s a stark contrast to Toby’s family’s response – they couldn’t have been any more overjoyed if they’d tried. Ever since we told them we were expecting, they’ve been calling round and checking I’m okay, buying little gifts and generally being unbelievably supportive.
The other reason I’ve delayed coming to see him is because his comment at the wedding annoyed me – asking if I was sure about getting married. If Dad had bothered to be more involved in my life he would know that of course I was sure. But I shouldn’t work myself up. It’s bad for the baby and it won’t make for a particularly pleasant visit if I’m in a mood before I even step through the door.
I reach the end of the country lane and pull onto the road where Dad lives. It’s only ten minutes outside town – the same house where Dina and I grew up. A modest 1930s property on a main road but set quite far back and screened from the pavement by tall evergreens. Dad has let the bushes grow far too tall. They now block all light from the rooms at the front of the house. I’ve told him he should get them cut back, but he doesn’t do anything about it.
Mum used to be the one with green fingers, and I have vivid memories of the four of us spending weekends outside, planting, trimming and weeding. That was back when he used to laugh. My father has since let the gardening slide. In the summer, the vast back garden would be a jungle if I didn’t badger Dad into getting the lawnmower out every once in a while. I used to do it myself before I left home.
I turn into Dad’s driveway and Mr Angry zooms past with his hand down on the horn. It makes me jump, and I almost crash into the gatepost. Some people are utter arseholes. I realise I’m shaking and there’s a fluttering in my belly. Is that…? Could that be the baby? Or perhaps it’s just anxiety caused by that idiot.If he’s upset my baby, I’ll…I sigh, relax my shoulders and give a wry smile, placing a hand over my stomach. I’m already so protective. I need to calm down and forget about that guy. He’s not important.
