Sharp Turn - Marianne Delacourt [31]
‘I wish Tara would take an interest in food,’ Joanna said with a sigh.
‘I like to eat it,’ I said quickly.
Unbelievably, both of them rolled their eyes at me. I didn’t like the way things were going. Not one little bit.
‘Why don’t you come for dinner tomorrow night, Cassandra? I’ll copy out the recipe and give it to you.
It’s one from Masterchef.’
‘I love that show,’ said Cass. ‘Especially the celebrity one.’
Joanna beamed approval.
And there it was – a meeting of minds. Just like Liv and Wal had connected over heavy metal and Monopoly.
‘Tara, get some fresh sheets. Your father will get the fold-out bed from the closet and carry it down,’ Joanna said.
Dad and I looked at each other in astonishment, then, with only the faintest shrug of his shoulders, he went off to do as he was bid.
While Cassandra and Mum talked about their favourite Masterchef contestants, I snaffled some sheets from the linen closet and some food from the fridge. Cheese, yoghurt and half a deep-dish apple pie would do it.
Dad came back rolling the fold-out bed and the three of us trooped back down to the flat. When the bed was set up and made, Dad waved good night and left us to it.
‘Your mum’s fully sick, eh?’ said Cass.
I paused mid-forkful of apple pie. ‘Yeah, like vampires are fully sick. So you really dig cooking, huh?’
Cass shrugged. ‘Yeah. Like I said before, I used to do it at home for Lilly. Mum doesn’t eat much.’
‘Lilly’s your sister. The one who’s in gaol?’
Cass began to pick ferociously at her fingernails. ‘She was clean for a whole year. Her loser boyfriend got her using again. One day I’m gonna make him pay for it.’ She looked like she wanted to cry but fought it back. ‘Are we starting early again tomorrow morning?’
I nodded. ‘I have to suss out the rest of the team members. You can do the van preparation while I snoop around.’
‘Sounds good.’ She lay down on the fold-out bed and rolled onto her side away from me. ‘Night.’
‘Night,’ I replied, turning off the overhead light and switching on my bed lamp. When I’d finished wolfing down the remains of the apple pie, I dragged my arse off to the bathroom to brush my teeth.
My reflection told me I was looking a bit rough, but not nearly as rough as Madame Vine had looked. I wasn’t sure how I was going to do it, but somehow I had to help the poor woman.
Chapter 10
SOMEHOW WE MANAGED to make it to Jim’s for the van handover by seven fifteen the next morning. Seven hours’ sleep beat the heck out of three, so I felt marginally better. A Perky’s hot Danish each and two large takeaway coffees helped.
By Scarborough, my mind had begun to multiply questions. I hadn’t heard from Ed since the other night – what did that mean? How was Wal settling into the new flat? And how the hell was I going to find out before Sunday who was sabotaging Bolo’s team?
In fact, so many things were bothering me that once we’d parked the van and I’d plugged in the power I went for a walk to calm down. Cass seemed happy to chop lettuce without me, so I headed down to the track.
Sharee wasn’t at work yet and the booth was closed. I read some of the posters stuck to the outside. Most of them advertised upcoming events: Formula Ford and the return of the V8s. There was a poster for a circus, and a couple of handwritten ads – one selling second-hand furniture because the owner was leaving town before the end of the year, offering a bargain on a plush sofa and a Balinese-style queen bed. I liked the price but the ad was dated August, which probably meant they had been sold already.
My phone rang. ‘It’s Nick, Tara.’
My heart and insides did their usual flip-flop. ‘Hi. I was going to call you today.’
‘You first then,’ he said.
‘Wondered if you had time