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“I struggle to lift my arms above my head.”
“I know. It must be so hard for you.” Martha pegged the sheets securely. “I’ll come back later and bring them in so don’t worry about that.”
“You’re very flexible and strong.”
Flexible. Strong.
No one hung sheets like she did. She was winning at laundry.
Mrs. Hartley tried to push money into her hand and Martha was appalled that for a moment she was tempted to take it. Right now she couldn’t even afford to buy a new hair clip and every little bit helped.
No way. The rest of her family might not like her very much, but if she started taking money for helping friends and neighbors then she wouldn’t like herself either.
“I don’t need payment.” She almost said that it was a pleasure to do something for someone who appreciated the effort, but that would have felt disloyal. Family were family, even when they drove you to screaming pitch. “Happy to help.”
“Was that Steven I saw just now?”
“Yes. I can’t get him to leave me alone.” Martha checked that the sheets weren’t going to blow away.
“You’re upset.” Mrs. Hartley patted her arm. “Don’t worry. Plenty more fish in the sea.”
Martha had no interest in fishing.
Why did people commit to each other? She had no idea. She’d had years of experience of watching her parents together and frankly there was nothing about their relationship that inspired her. Her mum was always yelling at her dad, who had selective hearing. There wasn’t a lot of affection on display.
But what did she know about relationships?
Nothing it seemed.
“Mum wants me to be a high-flying career woman, but for that I’d need a career and right now that’s not looking good. There are more people than jobs.”
“But someone has to get the job. And that someone could be you. A girl like you can do anything she wants to do.”
Her grandmother would have said the same thing, and although it sounded great it did nothing to lift Martha’s spirits. “That’s kind of you, Mrs. Hartley, but not quite accurate.”
“You can’t wait around for a job to fall into your lap. You need to put yourself out there.” Mrs. Hartley stuck her chin forward. “What’s your dream?”
Her dream was to be happy and look forward to each day, but that was never going to happen while she was living with her parents. She needed to be independent. She needed to not feel like a failure. She needed to get Steven out of her life.
And all that needed one thing—
“My dream is to find a job.” She picked up the laundry basket. “Any job.”
“Nonsense!” Mrs. Hartley waggled her finger. “You need to find something you’re going to love.”
“What did you do?”
“I worked at Bletchley Park during the war with all the codebreakers. I can’t tell you more than that or I’d have to kill you and dispose of your body.” Mrs. Hartley gave an exaggerated wink. “It was all very secretive and in those days we didn’t gossip the way everyone does now.”
Martha tried to imagine her mother in Bletchley Park. There wouldn’t have been a secret the enemy didn’t know. “I bet you were a force to be reckoned with.”
“My husband used to say the same thing.”
“How long were you married, Mrs. Hartley?”
“Sixty years. And I would have chosen him again at any point during that time. Not that I didn’t want to occasionally kill him, but that’s normal of course.”
Martha hugged the empty basket. “You were lucky.”
