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Things I Want My Daughters to Know_ A Novel - Elizabeth Noble [4]

By Root 1364 0
it to them had bothered to remove every picture hook and filled every crack in the place. It had taken six months to build the new place, and they’d lived in a trailer on the site the summer it went up. Jennifer remembered her mother standing on the steps of the van, pregnant with Hannah, offering cups of tea made on a camping stove. She remembered how absurd it had looked to her then. Jennifer had been twenty-two. She hadn’t lived at home since she was eighteen, and she felt like she barely knew Mark. It was all wrong—her mother, forty-five years old, with her vast, fertile baby belly. Living in this temporary squalor with a man ten years younger than she was. Jennifer had been embarrassed for her then. Or for herself.

Now she stood staring out of the tall glass doors that ran the entire length of the back of the house, at the garden, and wondered whether she’d just been jealous. She’d never lived here. She’d never really been a part of the family that happened here, the happy, laughing life they’d had before Mum got ill. Each corner showed her a different memory. Baby Hannah, with her smooth round arms and legs kicking contentedly on a plaid blanket under that apple tree. Her mother, kneeling at her beloved herb garden, tending the fragrant plants. Mark flipping burgers on the barbecue. Mum, radiant with happiness and contentment. But Jennifer had always been just a visitor.

STEPHEN LOVED THE HOUSE. HE’D SPENT HOURS, THE FIRST TIME he’d come, wandering around with Mark, looking at details Jennifer had never really taken in. His questions, and examinations, had gone way beyond flattery, although Mark was always happy to show it off. She knew Stephen wanted something like it for himself, one day. They couldn’t afford it now, of course. Their flat was a good start. Right area, high ceilings, great light. It was modern and fashionable, all dark wenge wood and stainless steel. But it was nothing like this, and it had nothing to do with money. It just didn’t have the heart.

Mark came and stood by her, gazing into the garden. “Needs a damn good water. Everything’s dying.” He didn’t seem to realize what he had said.

She smiled at him. “You’ve been busy. Cut yourself some slack.”

“She’d be cross.”

“No, she wouldn’t.”

Mark smiled his half-smile at her, and she smiled back. “Okay, maybe a bit cross.”

Then, “Where’s Hannah?”

“Upstairs. Lisa was having a bath. I think Hannah’s in her room.”

“No Andy?”

“No. Haven’t asked her about it. She came last night. We had a curry and too much red wine. But she hasn’t mentioned him.”

Jennifer nodded. She wondered if she ought to offer to go and see Hannah. She didn’t want to. “How is Hannah doing?”

“She’s quiet. She’s been quiet for days. No crap music blaring out of her room. She hasn’t been on the phone much to her mates, and no one’s been ’round. I expect they’d like to come, some of them, but I don’t think she’s spoken to any of them. I’m not even sure she’s told them, although they must know by now. She hasn’t even watched Coronation Street, which has me really worried.” He was trying to sound lighthearted, but he was failing.

“It’s early days, Mark. She’s lost her mum. She’s only fifteen.”

“I know. It’s…it’s hard. I’m trying, but I don’t have a lot of juice left in my tank, you know? I know she needs me. But I need…I need Barbara. I need her to help me. And she’s not here.”

UPSTAIRS, SOMEONE KNOCKED GENTLY ON HANNAH’S DOOR.

“C’min.”

It was Lisa, still damp from the bath, wrapped in a towel.

“You got any makeup, Hannah? I forgot mine. Can you believe it? Can I come in?”

Hannah nodded and pointed at her dressing table. “Not much. Some. Mascara and lip gloss and stuff. You can borrow whatever you want.”

“Cheers.” Lisa closed the door again behind her and let the towel fall to the ground. She was wearing a strapless bra, and she had a thong on. They were beige, with lace, and they looked expensive, and nice. Hannah felt shy, and Lisa saw her glance away.

“Excuse the blatant seminudity. But I’m so hot. That bath was boiling, and it must be ninety degrees out there already.

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