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‘Ah, good, we can talk while she snoozes,’ Trish says.
‘Well, I should probably get her inside and settled,’ I say, turning back and almost crashing face to face with Trish because she has her head shoved in my window trying to glance back at Molly.
‘I won’t keep you long,’ Trish says. ‘I just thought you should know that I’ve been keeping an eye on the house and?—’
‘My house?’ My eyes widen.
‘For neighbourhood watch,’ Trish says. ‘And, well, gosh I’m just not sure how to put this.’ Trish places her hand across her chest as if she’s protecting her heart. ‘I’ve seen Gavin with another woman.’
I hate that my face registers anoh-my-Godexpression before my head catches up and I say, ‘Heather. She’s he’s ex.’
‘Oh. Oh,’ Trish stutters.
Oh God, I groan inwardly.Why did I say that? That must sound worse than whatever Trish was thinking.
‘Their daughter, my stepdaughter, isn’t well,’ I explain. ‘Heather is staying with us for a while.’
Oh my God, Charlotte stop talking,I think as I watch Trish’s lips twitch as she savours that little nugget of juicy gossip.
‘Little Kayla?’ Trish says.
‘Not so little anymore,’ I say. ‘Kayla is fifteen now.’
‘Gosh, time flies.’
I nod, wondering when Trish will peel her nose out of my business and go back to her house.
‘Will Kayla’s mother be staying long? Here, I mean.’ Trish points to my house as if I need clarification about where I live.
‘I really have no idea,’ I say, realising that I reallydohave no idea how long I will be sharing my house with the woman my husband used to sleep with.
‘It’s just it’s an extra car to park and the cul-del-sac is already crowded enough. Neighbours are beginning to complain,’ Trish says.
‘Really?’ I reach for the door handle and push the door open, not caring if Trish has time to jerk her head back through the window ornot. I stand up and tower over my short neighbour. ‘If anyone has a problem, they can talk to me.’
‘You know what people round here are like.’ Trish pushes her shoulders back trying to stand a fraction taller. ‘They expect me to do all the talking. Sometimes I wish people wouldn’t expect so much.’
I ignore Trish as I open the door behind mine and bend inside to unbuckle Molly. Molly hums and groans as I gather her into my arms. I duck back out, wrestling with my daughter’s floppy body. Balancing on one leg, I push the door closed with my foot.
‘So, if your guest could park her car around the corner where there’s more space, I know everyone would be very grateful,’ Trish drones on.
‘Shh, shh, sweetheart,’ I say, running my hand through Molly’s hair as she stirs; Trish’s talking is waking her.
‘I miss Kayla,’ Molly mumbles in her sleep.
‘Me too,’ I whisper. ‘Me too.’
I think Trish is still talking as I turn my key in the front door. I turn on the step and face my neighbour whose lips are moving but I’m so tired I don’t even hear the words coming out of her mouth.
‘Goodbye, Trish,’ I say, turning back, stepping inside and slamming the door so roughly behind me the whole frame rattles.
I’m shaking as I place Molly on the couch in the sitting room. I pull off her shoes and take the throw from the back of the couch and drape it over her.
‘I love you, Mammy,’ Molly says, snuggling into the soft throw.
‘I love you too, my little princess.’
I flick on CBeebies and think about the bottle of red wine beside the fridge. The doorbell rings and I ignore it. I’m certain it’s Trish wanting to rant at me more.
