Chapter 5 #2
Looking back, she must have been crazy, but they’d made it work somehow.
Sometimes on a Saturday, when money was still tight or she didn’t have a babysitter, the children would come to work with her and play all day in the staffroom, reading comics, chatting to customers, or watching TV on the tiny portable that only worked if you gave it a thud on the side.
Now they were grown adults and both of them had joined the business at one time or another.
Only Georgie had stuck with it, though. When Grant was a teenager, he had gone off to a trendy, upmarket salon in Glasgow’s city centre, and his undeniable talents and starry ambitions had eventually taken him down south.
Now he lived in London, where he had his own swanky salon in Kensington, with a roster of celebrity clients and occasional guest spots on morning TV shows.
She cleared her throat, then repeated what she’d just said, this time mustering enough strength to finish the sentence and express how she felt.
‘Every time I look at the salon, I think how much I’m going to miss it. How much I’ll miss my life here. How much I’ll miss popping down to London to see Grant. How much I’ll miss… Ah, there’s our Georgie there now.’
Jessie saw Georgie trudging up the road in a padded coat and wellies, before stopping outside Copper Curls.
Val must have noticed Jessie’s wobbly chin had returned, because she squeezed her hand. ‘But you can always come back whenever you want. My spare room has had more people in it than a Premier Inn and it’s empty right now that Sandra is back on her feet.’
Sandra was Val’s latest lodger. A woman who’d been involved with an abusive piece of scum called Larry McLenn, a former politician who’d lost everything when it was discovered that he’d taken bribes and blown them on a cocaine habit.
He’d later spent time in jail for causing an accident by driving while drunk and on drugs.
His ex-wife, Alice, was a friend of Val’s, and the two women had stepped in when they’d discovered that Sandra was suffering at his hands.
They’d helped her escape him, found her a job, and Sandra had been in Val’s spare room for over a year while she saved up the deposit for her own place.
That’s the kind of woman Val Murray was.
And Jessie was going to miss every bit of her.
‘I know, and I love you for offering but it won’t be the same as having a home here. What am I thinking, starting all over again at my age? And, aye, I know I’m sounding pathetic. I’ve been acting all positive in front of Stan and the family, but how do I know this isn’t a huge bloody mistake?’
‘Sometimes you just need to take a leap of faith, and it all works out, Jessie.’ That came from Cathy, and they both knew that she had solid evidence that it was never too late to start over.
Only a couple of years ago, she’d sold up her family home and moved to the retirement flat and it had been a wonderful surprise to them all when she’d bumped into her first love, Richie, and he’d swept her off her feet.
Not literally. Apparently, he slipped a disc back in his younger years, so he avoided any form of lifting.
Bad back aside, they were like a couple of teenagers again, and Jessie had never seen her happier.
‘You could be right, Cathy. The thing is, Stan and I have been together for all our lives, and we had our own way of doing things. Our own roles. I had the kids, and work, and that made life busy and interesting. And he always liked the fact that I was independent and didn’t rely on him to entertain me.
’ On the edge of the tight ball of anxiety that had been lodged in her chest for days and weeks, there was a tiny thread of relief that she was saying this out loud.
Admitting her fears. Not that it would change anything.
The bags were packed, the plans were made, and the tickets were bought – but at least, right in this minute, she wasn’t having to pretend to be ecstatic.
‘My Don was the same,’ Val agreed. ‘Strong silent type. He always said that I made sure there was never a dull moment, and he made sure I took time to stop for breath. He wasn’t exactly the Dalai Lama, but he could be a wise man sometimes.’
The wistful expression that flitted across Val’s face caused a twinge in Jessie’s heart.
Losing Don three years back had been almost unbearable for her pal, but Val Murray was bloody bulletproof, and somehow, she’d found the strength to keep getting up in the mornings.
Val’s stoicism made Jessie flush with guilt.
There was her pal, who would give anything and go anywhere if she had her Don back for a single day, and here Jessie was moaning about spending her retirement in Tenerife with the man she’d been married to for decades.
She really had to suck it up, count her blessings and just get on with it.
The three of them were distracted by the ding of the bell above the front door, as a new arrival entered the café, brushing the snow from sleeves of her jacket. Even with the woman’s hood up, Jessie knew exactly who it was.
There was only one person in this village whose very existence haunted Jessie McLean. Only one person that Jessie would be happy never to clap eyes on again. And right now she was staring at her.
‘Hello, Dorinda. Long time no see.’
Maybe there was something to be said for moving thousands of miles away from here after all.