Chapter 21
21
‘What are you doing back here again so soon?’ Jess pulled a face in Jayden’s direction. ‘Saw your car parked up.’ She nodded towards the bottle and, ignoring Jayden, addressed me. ‘How’d it go? You know, after you rang me this morning? Was it OK?’ She glanced around the kitchen. ‘Sorrel not back?’
I poured wine for Jess and Jayden – no point in pretending he wasn’t there. ‘Yes, I survived, with the help of one of the older kids.’
‘One of the older kids? Really?’ Jess pulled another of her faces, sipping at her wine.
‘And I don’t know where Sorrel is.’
‘Why didn’t you bring her back with you?’ Jess was indignant. ‘Isn’t that one of the reasons you took the job? You know, to keep an eye on her and bring her home after school? Food’s ready in half an hour. You staying?’ she added, turning to our father.
‘I can’t be her minder.’ I closed my eyes briefly. ‘By the time I’d done my marking, cleared up and had a debrief with Mason, she’d gone.’
‘Where?’ Jayden and Jess spoke as one.
‘I don’t know !’ I sat down, heavily. ‘She’s almost sixteen. She has a right to meet up with her friends after school.’
‘What friends?’ Jess tutted. ‘Sorrel’s never been a girly girl – you know, off with her “ bestie ”.’ Jess air quoted the word, obviously irritated with the world and his wife. ‘God, I hate that word: Bloody bestie , for heaven’s sake. I really don’t know who her mates are any more. She’s not brought anyone round since she was fourteen. Mum and I were always asking her if she wanted a friend over for a sleepover but she never did. There was a big bust-up and falling-out with her gang of girls when they got to the end of Year 9 – Mum had to go into Beddingfield High to try to sort out what was going on. I don’t think we ever got to the bottom of it, and then Sorrel seemed to close in on herself. The happy little girl she’d been – you know, always doing cartwheels on the lawn or dancing and putting on shows for us – disappeared overnight. We just put it down to hormones and adolescence and’ – she glared in Jayden’s direction – ‘not having a supportive father who was here for her.’
‘He’s never been here, Jess,’ I protested, ‘so you can’t really blame Jayden for Sorrel suddenly going off the rails.’
‘Oh, I think I can.’
‘More likely her seeing Mum go downhill: worried she’d be left alone if Mum had to go back into hospital?’
‘ I ’ ve always been here for her, Robyn,’ Jess protested hotly. ‘I’ve had to take on the role of both father and mother for Sorrel. You know, when Mum couldn’t cope or was back in hospital, she came round to me… and I was more than happy to have her with us.’
‘What about Dean? Was he happy that you were parenting Sorrel as well as doing everything else you do?’
‘Dean’s a pillock,’ Jess snapped tersely. ‘Always has been and always will be. And I’m glad to be finally shot of him. The barmaid’s welcome to him. But I’m keeping him in my life for Lola’s sake – I don’t want her going off the rails once she goes to high school next September.’
‘OK, I totally get that,’ I soothed. ‘And you’ve done a fantastic job with Sorrel – been a second mother to her and provided her with a secure home when Mum wasn’t always up to it. But at the end of the day, once she hit those awful teenage years, you really can’t blame yourself for what she’s been getting up to.’
‘I tried to do everything.’ Jess dashed away an angry tear. ‘It’s not been easy – you were off having a ball and he ’ – she jabbed an angry finger in Jayden’s direction – ‘was off jamming and gigging and doing whatever else it is that he does…’
‘Earning a living, Jess,’ Jayden protested. ‘I can’t bring any money in by singing in Beddingfield village hall.’
‘Come on, Jess,’ I soothed. ‘You know Jayden’s always on the road, or recording in London.’
‘Enjoying himself while doing it though. Not really like hard work, is it?’
‘Actually, it’s bloody hard work, Jess. I get fed up with it at times.’
‘Sorry, Jayden, if you’re looking for sympathy, you’ll find it in the dictionary between shit and syphilis.’ She glared once more at Jayden. Blimey, she obviously really needed to vent all her frustration and anger at where life had taken her. ‘And I’ve had to pick up all the pieces,’ she spat angrily, reaching for her wine glass and draining the contents. She turned, now looking daggers at the pair of us.
‘I know, I know, Jess, and I’m sorry I wasn’t here more to help,’ I said. ‘I should have been.’ I went to give her a hug but, after a brief response, she pushed me away with the usual self-deprecatory tutting.
‘Yes, well, I don’t blame you.’ Jess sniffed, trying to smile. ‘And, if I’m coming over as being bitter and jealous, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to – you know, don’t want to rain on your parade, as it were. You had your dream of the West End; no point in hanging round this backwater. Funnily enough, our waitress in Pizza Express in town, a couple of weeks ago, was an out-of-work actor. Lovely girl, bags of personality, but I wanted to tell her, especially as she now has a four-year-old at home, that her dreams of hitting it big in the West End, or even in Leeds or Manchester, were just about over.’
‘Oh, never burst someone’s bubble, Jess. And I am sorry,’ I went on, meaning it. ‘It’s not been easy for you. But you wouldn’t be without Lola, would you?’
‘That’s a jolly silly question, Robyn. Of course, I wouldn’t be without her, but, had I not got pregnant at nineteen – and convinced myself I was in love with Dean – I’d have been off, studying food sciences. I was always really good at chemistry – did it at A level, if you remember – and was fascinated by the actual science behind creating food dishes. God, what I’d give to have a meal at Heston Blumenthal’s place.’
‘Heston Blumenthal? Goodness, really? And there was me about to—’ I broke off. Why tell Jess that Fabian had been somewhat cavalier about booking a table there and, worse, I’d not been overly interested or particularly excited at the prospect.
‘About to what?’ Jess stared.
‘About to offer you egg and chips over at Mum’s for tea one night,’ I lied.
‘You know, I’ve read everything about Blumenthal,’ Jess went on, obviously cheering up as she spoke of her chef hero. ‘Got all his books and tried out all his recipes. When I get fed up, when I can’t see anything beyond the day-to-day reality of my life, I get out his recipe books, try another one; adapt them, even.’ Jess gave a little self-conscious laugh and, when Jayden and I didn’t scoff, she continued. ‘Did you know he’s been described as a culinary alchemist ? His recipes are created by identifying molecular similarities between different ingredients and bringing them together. His white chocolate with caviar is to die for. I once saved up my housekeeping for weeks to buy some caviar.’ She laughed again, Jess’s indomitable spirit chasing away her bad temper, as it always did.
‘But you’re such a brilliant cook, Jess.’ Jayden, who up until then had said very little – I think he’d always been slightly frightened of Jess – patted her arm soothingly. ‘How about looking into starting your own business again? You know, outside catering? You were planning to do that at one point. I’ll try to help you financially as much as I can.’
‘Yes, I was talking about that, before Covid hit and scuppered everything.’ Jess shook her head. ‘Jayden, I don’t have the energy, let alone the money, to see to Mum, Lola and Sorrel as well as the shifts at the care home, to even think about starting up a new business. Anyway, folks round here can’t afford the luxury of outside catering any more. Have you seen the price of an avocado and truffle oil these days? As well as the cost of petrol to get to these rich people’s houses out in the sticks?’
‘There’s always someone with money who wants their dinner cooking,’ I enthused. ‘Promise me, once we’ve sorted Mum and Sorrel, you’ll look into it again? I’ll help you, too.’
‘You?’ Jess actually laughed, bending down to kiss my cheek. ‘You daft thing. With that knee? And what do you know about gourmet food? You’ve never even watched MasterChef , have you? And, I bet, in your fridge in London, there was nothing more than a heel of mouldy Cheddar and a jar of Nutella…’
‘There was a jar of Hellmann’s,’ I started indignantly. ‘Put a dollop of mayo onto anything and you’ve a fabulous meal. It was a new big jar as well. Tanya, at the flat, will have got well stuck into that by now,’ I added crossly.
‘Anyway, you’ve never been interested in food. Probably why you’re so skinny and why I look like I do.’ Jess patted her generous behind contemplatively. ‘You and Sorrel got Mum’s genes. Who the hell I inherited this big backside from is anyone’s guess.’
‘Actually, I did start becoming more interested in food watching Fabian when he cooked. He was a superb cook.’
‘What? The Posh Bucks Buccaneering Barrister’ – Jess started to laugh, falling over the alliterative consonants – ‘could cook? I thought he’d have had his meals shipped in from Harrods on a daily basis? Or from some little chichi deli in Knightsbridge?’
‘No,’ I said, indignant on Fabian’s behalf. ‘Jess, you’re as prejudiced about people as Fabian liked to suggest I was.’
But Jess, glancing at the kitchen clock, wasn’t listening. ‘Right, come on, food’ll be spoilt if we don’t eat. We can’t wait any longer hoping Sorrel will be back. Lola’s laying the table.’
‘You’ve laid the table beautifully, Lola.’ I smiled, admiring the artistic way my niece had arranged cutlery, dishes and even a bunch of late-blooming pink roses from Jess’s tiny garden on the crisp starched tablecloth. ‘Blimey, who starches tablecloths these days?’ I grinned, enjoying the feel of the stiff cotton fabric between my fingers.
‘I do’ – Jess sniffed – ‘and make no apologies for it. How you serve and present food is almost as important as the food itself. What’s the point of cooking with wonderful ingredients if the first thing you see is a plastic plate on a polyester tablecloth?’
‘Smells good anyway.’ I grinned. ‘Jesus, I tell you, after a day like today, I need a reward like this.’ I felt my face fall as I remembered. ‘I’m already dreading facing the hordes again tomorrow.’
‘Well, at least it’s Friday. One more day and then you can stay in bed and rest and read and do whatever you do to relax.’
‘Dance,’ I said glumly. ‘I usually dance to relax.’
‘Oh, yum,’ I countered greedily as Jess placed dishes of food in front of us. She was trying to be casual, trying not to care too much that she’d obviously spent the last couple of hours concocting something to impress us, but really desperate for our approval.
‘I thought you were off your food.’ Jess smiled. ‘So in love, you can’t eat?’
‘Oh, for two minutes there I wasn’t thinking about him, Jess. Now you’ve reminded me.’ I put down my knife and fork, my throat constricting with longing for Fabian and the reality of knowing I’d lost him.
‘Was he gorgeous, Aunty Robyn?’ ten-year-old Lola asked through a mouth full of the most divine linguine, her eyes wide with anticipation and interest. ‘How do you know when you’re in love? Does your heart beat faster?’ She wiped at her mouth with the white paper napkin she’d spent ages – and very artistically – trying to origami into a swan. ‘I don’t think I’ll bother falling in love,’ she added once she’d swallowed and reloaded her fork. ‘You have to do that thing in bed with them, don’t you? And then they bugger off with the barmaid.’
‘Oy, language,’ Jess and I both remonstrated as one, while Jayden started to laugh.
‘Or do something that makes you hurt your knee and run away.’ Lola glanced hopefully in my direction, obviously wanting to know what had been so bad I’d come back home.
‘Lola, elbows off the table, don’t talk with your mouth full.’ I loved the way Jess had brought Lola up to have such beautiful manners. No different, really, from how Lisa had insisted we two girls behave at the table when we were kids. She might have brought us up single-handedly, but our mum had always insisted on manners and good behaviour.
‘Did he get someone else pregnant?’ Lola was now asking.
‘Did who get someone pregnant?’ Jayden, Jess and I all turned in Lola’s direction; she’d now gone slightly pink.
‘The boyfriend you were so in love with, Aunty Robyn? Amie Thompson, in my class, said she bet that’s what happened.’
‘Enough, Lola.’ Jess shot a look in her daughter’s direction.
‘Or was he cheating on you?’
‘No, Lola,’ I managed to get out. ‘Fabian and I held very different views on very important issues. Sometimes you just have to be true to yourself.’
‘Even if you’re mad about him?’
‘ Especially if you’re mad about him. And if his family have been unpleasant to you,’ Jess now put in.
‘Is this boyfriend of yours really helping that awful man, who’s done horrible things to ladies, to not go to prison? He’s on his side ?’ Lola pulled a face of dramatic horror.
‘It’s a bit more complicated than that,’ I started to say, wanting to defend Fabian when he wasn’t here to defend himself.
‘Little girls like you shouldn’t know about horrible men like… like him ,’ Jess put in.
‘Rupert Henderson-Smith?’ Lola was scornful. ‘You can say his name, Mum; he’s on the news and in the paper. I read all about him in last Saturday’s Guardian .’
‘ The Guardian ? Expensive!’ I raised an eye in Jess’s direction.
‘Only paper worth reading,’ she parried. ‘Love the culture magazine and the recipes. I forgo something at Aldi for my Saturday treat. And you ,’ she went on, turning to Lola, ‘shouldn’t be reading about what that perverted dreadful man did.’ Jess was slightly flustered. ‘OK. More of this, anyone?’
‘Anyway, it’s all right, Aunty Robyn.’ Lola grinned across at me. ‘Mum says Mr Donoghue really fancies you and you’ll probably end up with him and forget all about the sexy barrister.’
‘Lola, enough .’ Jess was totally red-faced. ‘I told you that in confidence. I thought you were old enough and grown up enough for a bit of adult conversation without telling Aunty Robyn what we’d been discussing.’
‘Discussing?’ I breathed. ‘That’s gossiping.’
‘But spot on, Robyn.’ Jayden grinned. ‘It was obvious from the get-go.’
‘No, it wasn’t,’ I snapped. ‘It’s you he’s after, Jayden; he wants you to go into school to talk to the kids about the history of West Indian music.’
‘I’m up for that,’ Jayden said. ‘You arrange it and I’ll peruse my diary.’
‘What?’ I shook my head in despair.
‘So,’ Jayden went on, removing plates to the kitchen sink before sitting down once again. ‘That meal, Jess, confirms what I keep saying about you and cooking. You need to turn professional.’
‘I’m not a footballer.’ Jess pulled a face but I knew she was pleased at the praise.
Jayden looked at his watch. ‘It’s going up to eight. Where’s Sorrel?’
‘Jayden, Mum had this most evenings and didn’t get anywhere.’ Jess was cross again.
‘I’m going out looking for her.’ He went to stand. ‘She’s not been home since school finished.’
‘Oh? And where will you start?’ I asked.
‘Well,’ he conceded, sitting down again and reaching for his roll-ups, ‘as soon as she gets in, I’m having words.’
‘Not in here, Jayden,’ Jess instructed, eyeing the cigarettes. ‘Lola, go and make sure your reading’s done, then start getting ready for bed.’
‘But I want to stay here and listen…’
‘Go. Now.’
‘OK,’ I said, turning to Jayden once Lola was out of earshot. ‘You know, Jayden, we never really knew how you met Mum?’
Jayden settled himself back on the kitchen chair. ‘I met your mum when she was just sixteen. Sorrel’s age, just about.’
‘Gosh, that is young. How old were you?’ Jess was disapproving.
‘Almost twenty.’
‘Too old for her,’ I said, pulling a face. ‘Would you like to think of Sorrel being with some boy – some bloke – four years older?’
‘It was different then. Well, it seemed to be. Every gig I managed to get in the pubs and clubs around here, in Bradford, across in Huddersfield, your mum turned up.’
‘Really? By herself? Going into pubs and clubs by herself? At sixteen?’
Jayden nodded. ‘Sometimes with a girlfriend, but usually by herself.’
‘What were her parents thinking of? Letting her do that?’
‘She hated them.’ Jayden looked longingly at his roll-ups but they remained where they were. ‘As you know, she was adopted at birth.’
‘Yes, we know.’ Jess was impatient, looking at her watch, eyeing the pile of washing up waiting in the sink.
‘Her adopted father was a head teacher.’
‘Really? We never knew that . I mean, we always had some idea that he was a teacher, but not actually running a school. Not actually a headteacher. Fancy that!’
‘At one of the most prestigious public schools in the area. He was incredibly strict with your mum; she was their only child, was actually a pupil at the school…’
‘Mum went to public school ?’ I stared. ‘She didn’t! When we’ve talked about where she went to school, she’s always said the local comp where she grew up near Sheffield. Blimey, no wonder she’s so articulate… I can’t believe she kept that to herself. Why did she lie about it? Why have you never told us, Jayden?’
‘She just didn’t want to be reminded of who her parents were, never wanted you girls to have anything to do with them. Really unpleasant bloke he was, by all accounts, and Lisa’s mum wasn’t much better. Once she ran away from them when she was seventeen, she never went back. You might not think it, but your mum is a survivor and Sorrel, well, Sorrel, out of the three of you, is the most like her.’
‘Mum is a survivor?’ Both Jess and I spoke as one. ‘Despite,’ I went on, ‘you not being there for her?’
‘She’s a survivor,’ Jayden reiterated irritably. ‘Look how she brought you two up. I hold my hands up to not being the best dad on the planet.’
Jess gave a cynical squawk of agreement. ‘You’re not kidding.’
‘But your mum gave everything she’d got to bringing you two up.’ Jayden reached for his roll-up tin once more. ‘We just need to sort Sorrel out now, before Lisa’s out of hospital.’