Chapter 4
Talking had been good, SJ thought, as she left the crowded tube station later that afternoon and walked the last part of her journey home through the beginning of the rush hour.
She and Tanya had been friends since uni, but she’d never been as frank as she’d been today – and knowing Tanya would never blab about what she’d told her, not even to Michael, had strengthened the bond between them.
It was an ‘us against the world’ feeling, similar to the one she’d had when she’d become blood sisters with the girl next door when she was ten.
Tom’s car wasn’t in the drive, SJ noticed as she climbed the marble steps that led to their front door. Not that she was surprised. He’d said he’d probably have to work late.
Ash was in his favourite position, on his blanket by the range cooker, and he thumped his tail lazily, but didn’t bother getting up to greet her.
‘Garden,’ she told him, unlocking the back door. ‘Come on, you lazy lump – out.’
Yawning, he stretched and reluctantly strolled across the kitchen, blinking and pausing for a head stroke when he reached her.
He was old now for a greyhound; they didn’t know exactly how old because he’d been a rescue.
‘Dumped on the North Circular,’ the dogs’ home had explained.
But his soft grey muzzle was flecked with white, and he’d developed a little paunch lately – too many titbits, probably, he was a terrible scrounger and she couldn’t resist his melting brown eyes.
Still, everyone was entitled to a little paunch when they got older.
Thinking about it, she was getting one herself.
That was another thing that hit you when you got past thirty-five – although actually she was only thirty-six.
It got harder to keep off the weight, especially round the tummy, which was her weak point.
She’d been as thin as a reed when she was younger, but now she was size fourteen on a good day.
Fortunately she was tall so it didn’t look too bad.
Although she’d noticed lately if she told someone she was planning on going on a diet they didn’t look amazed and say, ‘Don’t be silly, SJ, there’s nothing of you.
’ Well, apart from her mum, who was also tall and shopped at Evans for most of her clothes.
But mums didn’t count – they saw you with ‘mother eyes’, not objective ones.
Perhaps she could try slimming club again.
It hadn’t worked last time because the only way she could keep within the calorie allowance and still drink was to eat virtually nothing at all.
But if she was cutting down the wine, it might be feasible.
She could actually get to eat something this time.
Another advantage of not drinking so much.
Ha – she’d be slim and a millionaire. SJ had never cared much about money, but it would be lovely to rediscover her hip bones.
From the doorway she watched Ash cock his leg leisurely on the honeysuckle and marvelled at the size of the bladder he must have.
He only ever went in the garden if she made him, and then he could wee for a good sixty seconds non-stop and not need to go again until the next day.
She lit a fag and went outside to join him.
She’d promised Tom she would give up smoking this summer, but she hadn’t quite managed it yet.
Behind Ash, the sun cast a golden light across the rose-trellised arch that led up to the furthest reaches of their narrow, but beautifully secluded long garden.
The garden was one of the things that had sold them this house.
It was big for a town house garden in Barking and was an oasis of tranquillity, edged by rose bushes and surrounded by hedges and mature trees that shut out the prying eyes of neighbours.
There was a wooden summer house in the middle section and at the far end a lily pond lay in the shadow of a willow tree.
When they’d first come to view the place, they’d stepped out of the back door and been captivated.
Tom had put his arm around her and said, ‘Think of us coming back from a hard day’s work, SJ, and sitting outside the summer house with a nice bottle of wine – what could be better? Our own little Garden of Eden.’
She had leaned against the solid, secure bulk of him and thought, yes, a Garden of Eden.
It would have been better, of course, if Adam had actually been present a little more often, as opposed to Eve having to flit around Eden by herself, but you couldn’t have everything.
Tom was busy working – he was trying to get a promotion. It wouldn’t be forever.
‘Good boy,’ she praised Ash, before wandering back inside. She settled down to do some marking, but abandoned it after about ten minutes. It was easier to concentrate with a drink. But it was a bit early to start the three-quarters of a bottle she’d agreed with Kit.
The form he’d given her was in her bag. She and Tanya had discussed it earlier.
‘Why have you got to put your thoughts and feelings on it?’ Tanya had asked curiously. ‘I thought they just wanted to know how much you drink.’
‘They’re trying to establish whether your drinking follows a pattern,’ SJ explained.
‘To see if there are trigger points – certain emotions you’re trying to avoid by drinking.
You know – all that “unresolved issues” stuff I studied in psychology.
Which there aren’t in my case, obviously.
I just like the stuff. It’s relaxing, isn’t it? ’
‘How about unresolved issues with Alison?’ Tanya had asked with one of her irritating ‘raised eyebrows’ looks.
‘Everyone has unresolved issues with their sister. It’s par for the course.’
‘I don’t.’
Luckily, Tanya’s mobile had buzzed with another text – she seemed to get an awful lot of them. By the time she’d read it, the unresolved-issues-with-your-sister moment had passed.
SJ glanced at her watch – still only six thirty-five.
It was going to be a long night at this rate.
She took Ash to the park and power walked around the perimeter while Ash dawdled on a sniffing bonanza, which was his favourite thing in the world to do.
Bloody hell, she felt virtuous. An evening of exercise and abstinence, at this rate she’d have no vices left.
Apart from the fags, of course. She seemed to have got through rather a lot this afternoon.
Oh well, she could power walk back via a detour to the corner shop to restock. Good plan.
When she got home again with a slightly surprised and panting Ash – he wasn’t used to power walks – it was still only just gone eight.
SJ grabbed a ready meal for two from the freezer and put it on a baking tray in the oven.
As she straightened, she just missed knocking herself out on Tom’s latest acquisition, an earthenware pub jug that he’d hung on a brass hook to the left of the oven.
He loved breweriana and he was forever picking up bits of old pub junk to add to his collection.
But that beer jug would have to find another home.
The flashing light on the landline answer machine Tom insisted they had as a back-up caught her attention and provided a further distraction from a nice glass of wine. She’d no idea the evening would feel this long without one.
The first brief message was from Tanya’s husband, Michael, confirming a squash court booking with Tom at the weekend. The second message was lengthier.
‘Good evening, Sarah-Jane, this is your mother here. Thank you again for the car boot sale contribution – we raised another thirty pounds for the Cats Protection League.’ SJ suppressed a smile.
Mum had her telephone voice on, posh and slightly self-conscious.
She hated talking to answer machines. ‘Anyway, I’m phoning because your father and I are trying to finalise the party arrangements.
I know you’re very busy, but could you please call me when you get a minute.
’ A small pause. ‘We need to discuss things.’ Another pause.
‘It’s quite urgent, Sarah-Jane.’ The posh accent was slipping a bit.
‘No, she’s not in, Jim, I’m just leaving a message.
Oh, bugger, you know I hate talking to these things. Phone me back, love. Bye-ee.’
SJ settled on the sofa and called back from her mobile.
‘Hi, Mum. What’s so urgent? The party isn’t till September.’
‘It’s early September, love, and it’s a lot to organise. It’s a big day for us – and we want to do things properly. Make sure everything goes without a hitch – you know.’
SJ was pretty sure the hitch referred to herself and her sister, Alison, whom she’d managed to avoid being in the same room as for the last five and a half years.
No mean feat, when their parents had a thing about Proper Family Gatherings.
Covid had helped but she’d also been ‘ill at the last minute’ for two Christmases, four birthday celebrations and one meal out to celebrate Mum and Dad’s Premium Bonds win.
The rest of the occasions she’d either had cast-iron-can’t-possibly-miss prior engagements or just turned up so late that Alison had already left.
Up to now, things had worked out just fine, but she had a feeling her parents’ ruby wedding anniversary was going to present problems. She should be there.
She’d feel guilty if she wasn’t there. It was her daughterly duty to be there.
Unfortunately, it was also Alison’s daughterly duty to be there – and no way was SJ going within a five-mile radius of her sister, especially not with Tom by her side.
‘I wish you’d forget this silly feud,’ her mother went on quietly.
‘You know Alison feels terrible about what happened.’ SJ doubted that very much.
The only thing Alison ever felt terrible about was if she accidentally broke a nail, or her hairstylist put the wrong shade of highlights in her hair, or she put on an ounce or two.
‘She’s really sorry she hurt you. She’ll regret it for the rest of her days…’