Chapter 2
Chapter two
Music blared from the car stereo as Billy Fisk drove towards Amberfield for her weekend with Imogen, an agreement that had only been in place for the last three years.
Before that, it had been monitored visits, or agreements her parents be there too.
And in all honesty, she couldn't really blame Rosa for the precautions.
She'd been a mess for far too many years of their daughter's young life.
She'd stopped at the supermarket and picked up a bagful of food Imogen would want to eat over the weekend and stuffed it all onto the supposed back seat. It served no real purpose, unless the people in the front were pushed up against the dashboard, but was bigger than the tiny boot space.
Billy didn't care, though. The car was all part of the image. She was back, and the world knew about it—the way she dressed, the car, the flat overlooking the river.
Nothing and no one would ever take her down that path of self-destruction again.
Billy pulled up outside the small cottage and yanked the handbrake. Always experiencing the same feeling whenever she arrived here—the ghost of what they'd planned together. Rosa had made the dream real—their dream home that Billy played no part in anymore.
She couldn't blame Rosa for that either.
The door opened and Imogen rushed out of the house, bag slung over her shoulder. She pulled the handle of the door on the small sports car, opened the door wide, and jumped into the passenger seat before Billy had even switched off the engine.
"Billy, you're early. I'm not finished packing."
Billy climbed out, long legs stretching, knees clicking.
She caught her own reflection in the living room window.
Her tall frame was thin, wiry. Years of being on edge, therapy—it had taken its toll in many ways, but now she looked about as healthy as she ever had.
Long dark hair was swept back into a ponytail.
Not a speck of makeup worn on her face, other than some lip gloss.
"Hey, Immy." She pulled her daughter close and kissed her forehead. "You have clothes at mine, and it's not like we have far to come back if you did need something."
Imogen shrugged. "I know, but…I kind of think of it like a holiday when I come to your place.
" She glanced over her shoulder at Rosa standing in the doorway watching them.
"And Mum needs her own time, without me back and forth.” She paused and then added, “Maybe it's about time she met someone again. "
Billy raised a hand and waved at her ex-wife. "Still no dates?" she whispered.
Imogen shook her head. "Not sure she's looking, to be fair."
"I guess she'll meet someone when the time is right." Because it isn't your business now, is it? She followed Imogen up the garden path and casually smiled at her ex. "Rosa, how's things?"
Rosa shrugged. "All the same as usual. Work, home, this one, work." She mirrored the small smile back as Imogen passed her and rushed upstairs again. "Coming in?"
Studying Rosa for a moment, Billy noticed the crow's feet at the corners of her eyes, the slight greying at the temples. When had they both changed so much?
"Yes, sure. Imogen's still packing." She stepped inside and followed the hallway to the kitchen, waiting for Rosa as she closed the door behind them.
"I was just making a brew." A statement that carried an unasked question in all British households.
"Uh, sure, why not." She stood awkwardly until Rosa pointed to the chair.
"You can sit down." Rosa turned back to the kettle. "How's things with…what's this one called?" She twisted back around again. "Stella?"
"Yeah, we, uh…we broke up."
"Oh." It was one thing having a little jibe when all was well, but Rosa now looked a little contrite. "I'm sorry to hear that."
"I'm not." Billy half-smiled. "She didn't think my weekends with Immy were important, so…" She shrugged. "Don't like my kid being around, then…she's not for me."
"That's…quite true." Rosa looked at her properly for what felt like a long time. Something was different. No, something had crept up and become something she was only just noticing. Maturity?
“How about you? Anyone on the horizon?” Billy asked.
A faint blush smothered Rosa’s cheeks and she turned back to the mugs. “No, I…I’m not really looking right now…too much on, you know?”
“Yeah, might take a break from it myself.”
Silence filled the space—something Billy was usually more than comfortable with—let a conversation end where it was supposed to. But right now, she didn’t want it to end.
"So…Imogen turning sixteen…who'd have thought?" Billy said, sitting more comfortably in her chair. Jean-covered legs splayed as she took up space.
"Yes, imagine that—a baby growing into a teenager," Rosa snarked. She poured the water from the kettle into two mugs. "She's growing up too fast." Her voice softened. "She mentioned the party your parents want to throw."
"Ah, yeah, Mum kind of thought that , it might be nice to have a party there with all her friends. And they don’t see her as often as they’d like to."
"Not really a surprise. It's a long way to go to visit."
"A couple of hours on a plane. It's doable," Billy said. "I'd like to take her more often if that's good with you."
“What friends?” Rosa narrowed her eyes at Billy. “She’s never mentioned friends over there.”
Billy shrugged. “I guess local kids.”
Rosa carried the two mugs to the table and put them down, pushing one in front of Billy. "I guess now she's older…it wouldn't hurt."
Billy grinned. "Really?"
"She's a sensible young woman, and your parents will be there, so…" She didn't add, “I don't have to be concerned with you falling apart anymore.”
Footsteps galloped down the stairs and Imogen flew into the kitchen on socked feet, gliding to a stop. "Billy, did you get me those trainers like you said?"
Billy blushed, glancing from Imogen to Rosa and back again. "I…yes, they're at my place."
"Excellent." Imogen was off again, running up the stairs with just as much noise as she'd made coming down them.
"I thought we talked about this," Rosa said quietly. "You have to stop spoiling her."
"I'm not, I just—"
"You are," Rosa cut in firmly. "You're trying to make up for everything by letting her have whatever she wants. That's not who we wanted to be."
Billy let the words sink in. ‘…who we wanted to be.’
"It's just a pair of shoes she needed."
"Like the pair she got at Christmas a couple of weeks ago?" Rosa's brows arched. "And it's her birthday in a few weeks. I suppose there’ll be more presents she just needed?"
Billy let out a sigh. "Mum really wants you to come to the party."
"It's not really appropriate, is it?"
"Why not? We are her parents. Her friends will be there. It's not like we're going as a couple." Billy laughed. "Just think about it, for Imogen. It's all paid for—flights, accommodation…"
"I'll think about it," Rosa said quietly.
The loud galloping down the stairs meant they both turned to watch the kitchen door for Imogen's imminent arrival.
"She wants us both there. We should put our differences aside, right?"
Rosa huffed. She really hated it when Billy had a point.
"Okay, I'm ready," Imogen puffed. Dressed like Billy in jeans and a hoodie, backpack slung over her shoulder, she stepped forward and gave Rosa a hug. "I'll see you Monday after school. Have some fun, Mum." She kissed Rosa on the cheek.
"Yeah, have some fun, Mum," Billy echoed with a playful grin. Grabbing her keys, she stood, tea untouched on the table, as Imogen headed for the front door. "Think about the trip. It'll mean everything to her. And trust me, I know all about missed opportunities with this kid."