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‘I’ll go and put the kettle on.’ Jennie giggled. ‘Come next door and have some tea with me, Shelley. You’re very welcome.’
Shelley nodded. ‘I will. Thank you.’
‘Wait for me, Jennie,’ Drew murmured, then turned back to Shelley. ‘Why don’t we leave you to lock up at your own pace? Maybe you still want a little time to get reacquainted with the house, after such a long time away,’ he suggested, with such apparent good sense that Shelley felt she had no choice but to agree. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she had the distinct impression she was being manipulated—but quite frankly she was too tired to object.
She stood at the window and watched them go, feeling that her heart might break as he walked with his sister back down the road of their childhood.
CHAPTER FIVE
SHELLEY opened all the bedroom windows and a small one in the bathroom, catching an unexpected glimpse of herself in the hall mirror as she went back downstairs.
She shuddered and halted in her tracks. What a sight she looked!
In the two days since she had been travelling she hadn’t given a thought to her appearance, and my—how it showed! If she had thought that Jennie Glover wasn’t looking her best, then Drew’s sister must have been having similar thoughts about her. She looked as if she had been through the mill and back.
Her face was pale and pinched and the short, usually immaculate hair looked far from immaculate—the wind had swept it out of shape and it badly needed the attention of a hairdresser. She squinted at her reflection—at aquamarine eyes which were smudged with mascara, with shadows of fatigue beneath, like dark blue thumb-prints. No wonder Drew had been so rude about her appearance.
She found her soap bag and cleansed her face, brushed her teeth and ran her fingers through her hair. When she had finished she felt a bit better. Not much—but it was a start.
What she wanted more than anything else was a long, hot bath and to put her head on a feather-down pillow and sleep for a week. But in the meantime she would settle for a cup of tea with Jennie.
Locking the door behind her, she made her way to the house next door, and Jennie must have been looking out for her, for she opened the front door before Shelley had a chance to knock. She had run a comb through her hair and applied a coat of pink lipstick and Shelley thought that she looked much better, though there was still that sense of defeat which made her eyes look so hollow.
‘Come in,’ she said. ‘Only excuse the mess!’
Shelley stepped inside the house and the first thing that struck her was how different it felt from the house she remembered.
For a start, it was deliciously warm—like a tropical paradise compared to the icy temperature of her own house—with slim, top-of-the-range radiators shimmering out their heat.
She wriggled her shoulders luxuriously. ‘It feels fantastic in here, Jennie—so lovely and warm.’ She looked around the hall. ‘And it’s beautifully decorated, too.’
‘Why, thank you! Come into the sitting room—it’s even nicer in there,’ smiled Jennie. ‘And I’ve made a tray of tea.’
‘Lead me to it!’ murmured Shelley.
The sitting room was immaculate, with freshly painted walls and an expensive-looking carpet covering the floor. There were two terracotta sofas, with jade-green cushions scattered over them, and, in the centre of the room, a coffee-table on which stood a tray of tea and biscuits.
On the sideboard stood a large, silver-framed portrait of a baby in a white cotton dress, with dark curls of hair fizzing around her face. Was that Cathy’s baby? Shelley wondered.
‘Sit down,’ said Jennie.
‘Thanks!’ Shelley sank thankfully down onto one of the sofas. ‘Though I’m so tired that I wonder whether I’ll ever be able to get up again!’ She looked around. ‘This room is amazing, Jennie—it looks twice the size of mine! You must have spent a lot of time or a lot of money doing it up—or both!’
‘Oh, that was Drew, not me,’ Jennie explained as she poured the milk out. ‘I had to go into hospital, and while I was there he arranged for the house to be modernised. Heating, carpets, curtains. The lot. It was such a surprise when I came home!’
Shelley’s lips formed a reluctant O. ‘Generous of him,’ she commented reluctantly.
Jennie frowned. ‘He is very generous—surely you’ve noticed that before!’
‘Well, of course I have! I was engaged to the man, Jennie—and I got to know his good points pretty well.’ Something stirred deep in her subconscious. ‘Does he pay for your garden to be done, too?’ she asked suddenly.
