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Her mother’s expression was pained as she tried a different approach. ‘I don’t like to think of you rattling around in the house on your own, while we’re away.’
‘I won’t be on my own. I’ll have the children to keep me company.’
‘It’s not the same as having another adult around. I wouldn’t worry so much, but Beverley will be on the other side of the country so if there’s a problem she’s not going to get back from Porthcawl in less than four hours, what with the traffic.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ Annabelle insisted.
Her mother carried on, ‘If you’re determined not to go back to Australia, you need to put down roots in this country, starting with your family. Blood is thicker than water, you know.’
Annabelle wasn’t so sure about that. Troy’s blood ran in his children’s veins, but it may as well have been water for all the interest he showed in them. In his case, blood most definitely wasn’t important.
‘We are still not going.’ How many more times did she have to tell her mother that? ‘I’m not uprooting the kids again.’
‘I’m sure they understand what a holiday is,’ her mum countered, but Annabelle wasn’t so certain. This was supposed to have been a holiday, yet it had turned into a permanent relocation.
Jake and Izzie hadn’t even had the chance to say goodbye to their friends, and she wasn’t sure they’d ever forgive her for that. Or for the weather. It might be summer in Britain, but the weather here was worse than Cairns in winter. It hadn’t stopped raining since they’d arrived, which was another reason why she didn’t want to go on holiday to Porthcawl for a couple of weeks – it rained even more in Wales than it did here.
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Annabelle said firmly. ‘You go and enjoy your cruise; the children and I are staying put.’
