Things I Want My Daughters to Know_ A Novel - Elizabeth Noble [136]
“For God’s sake, you two,” Barbara had exclaimed in exasperation. “You haven’t lived here since you both went off to university. You’ve been using it as a doss house for the last I don’t know how long. I don’t understand what all this sentimentalist rubbish is all about. You’ll always be welcome in the new house. You’re acting like you’ve suddenly been turned into Brazilian street children.” They weren’t welcome in the caravan. At least, however welcome they may have been, there was no bloody room for them. Lisa christened it the “Passion Wagon,” a name Jennifer loathed and never used. She and Jennifer tutted together, and rolled their eyes together, and tried not to look at Barbara’s swelling form too much together, and it made them closer.
The détente didn’t really come until Hannah was born. It was hard to stay disgusted when something so small and perfect and sweet smelling entered the fray.
LISA HAD ARRIVED. SHE LOOKED TIRED. SHE BENT OVER AND kissed Jennifer and then slid into the chair beside her, shucking her jacket off her shoulders to the back of the seat. “Hiya, snow bunny!” Lisa peered at Jennifer, who looked tanned, except for startling white panda eyes, and relaxed. “You look good, by the way. Must have been sunny.”
“It was. It was fantastic.”
“Wow. Fantastic? You hate skiing. Have you finally got the hang of it?”
Jennifer smiled to herself. “Something like that! How are things with you?”
“I’m okay.”
“How is life with Mark and Hannah?”
“Tense. Hannah’s turned into a teenager. A teenager with exams coming up. Grumpy? Just a bit. She’s making up for lost time, I think. Slamming doors, four-hour phone calls, monosyllabic conversation. Too much eyeliner, not enough manners. She’s driving Mark nuts, I think.”
“Poor him.” Jennifer wondered if her cheeks were red underneath the tan. She hadn’t spoken to him in ages. Not since she’d been such a bitch.
“Poor Hannah, too. I feel sorry for her. She’s had the shitty end of the stick for ages now, hasn’t she? I think it’s probably only normal, a bit of rebellion. Normal for anyone, actually, but when you’ve had a couple of years like the couple of years Hannah’s just had, it’s no wonder, is it?”
“I guess not….”
“Have you heard from Amanda?”
“Not much—you?”
“You know Amanda.”
Lisa wasn’t sure either of them did, particularly. “I had a postcard. From Rio. Pert bottoms in neon thongs.”
“Me, too.”
“Do you think that represents forgiveness?!”
“Or is she just saying ‘up your bum’?”
“Room for one more?”
It was Mark. Jennifer’s heart began to race when she saw him, and she wondered if her cheeks reddened. Lisa didn’t seem to notice anything.
“You came!”
“Couldn’t rouse Hannah from her pit, and I didn’t fancy eating lunch alone, so I thought I would…unless I’m interrupting.”
“No. Not at all. Sit down.” Lisa pulled out a chair.
Mark bent and kissed Jennifer on the cheek. “How are you? You look well.”
Jennifer touched her face, where his lips had been. “Thanks. I’m good.”
“I’m going to the loo. Get the waiter to bring me another glass when he comes to take your order, will you?” Lisa grabbed her handbag from the back of her chair and wandered to the back of the restaurant in search of the ladies.
Jennifer fiddled self-consciously with her fork.
“Mark…”
He put a hand on hers, making her leave the fork alone.
“Listen, Jennifer. I’m glad we’ve got a minute.”
“Me, too. I still want to, need to say how sorry…”
“I know. I know you are.”
“I was so unhappy. I know it’s no excuse….”
“No excuse, maybe. But it’s an explanation. It’s always unhappy people who make all the trouble.”
“Have I made trouble? For you, I mean. I think