It was probably her own fault, she thought wearily. Although she hadn’t encouraged Mark’s advances, she supposed she had let him think he had some influence in her life.
Now she forced a polite smile, and shrugged her slim shoulders. ‘Oh—you know what young people are like!’ she exclaimed dismissively. ‘They don’t need weeks to plan a trip. They just do it.’
‘It’s a bit hard on you though, isn’t it?’ Mark persisted, his chin jutting indignantly. ‘I mean—you might have had other plans.’
Laura nearly said, ‘Who? Me?’ but she didn’t think Mark would appreciate the irony. His sense of humour tended towards the unsubtle, and any effort on Laura’s part to parody her own position would only meet with reproval. In consequence, she only shook her head, and leaned forward to start the engine.
‘I was going to suggest we might try and get tickets for that revue at the Playhouse,’ Mark added, as if to justify his aggravation. ‘I’ve heard it’s jolly good, and it finishes on Saturday.’
Laura squashed her own resentment, and managed a warmer expression. ‘Oh, well,’ she said, ‘we’ll have to catch it some other time. And now I really must go, or I won’t have time to get everything I want.’
Mark’s mouth compressed. ‘You could still—–’
‘No, I couldn’t,’ declared Laura firmly, and put the car into gear. ‘I’ll see you later.’
He was still standing looking after the car as Laura turned out of the car park, and lifted her hand in a reluctant farewell. Really, she thought, concentrating on the traffic on the West Road, there were times when Mark could be such a pain. Surely he could understand that as Julie paid so few visits to her mother Laura couldn’t possibly desert her to go to the theatre with him? Besides, it wasn’t as if Julie were making a convenience of her this time. She was bringing her future husband to meet her, and, even if it was more his suggestion than hers, it might presage a new closeness in her relationship with her daughter.
But Mark and Julie had never seen eye to eye. From the beginning, he had found her spoilt, and headstrong, and on the rare occasions when they had all been together Julie had gone out of her way to be objectionable to him. So far as she was concerned, Mark was a stuffed shirt, and her comments about his bachelor lifestyle wouldn’t bear repeating.
The supermarket was heaving with people doing their weekend shopping, and Laura, who generally supplied her needs from the small store in Burnfoot, gritted her teeth as yet another mother with toddlers blocked her passage. ‘Excuse me,’ she said, trying to edge along the aisle, and was rewarded with a smear of ice lolly all along the sleeve of her anorak.
‘Oh—sorry!’ exclaimed a smiling matron, drawing her child’s hand away, and examining the lolly for damage. ‘These aisles are so narrow, aren’t they?’
Laura glanced at the sticky red confection adorning her sleeve, and then gave a resigned shrug. There was no point in getting angry. ‘Yes, very narrow,’ she agreed, and, unable to prevent herself from smiling at the cheeky toddler, she moved on.
It was after one by the time she had loaded her purchases into her car, and striking half-past as she turned into the school car park. One or two stragglers were still sauntering across the playground, and they gave her a knowing look, before turning to whisper to their friends. Laura could almost hear the comments about her being late as well, and she tried not to look too flustered as she strode towards the school buildings.
The afternoon seemed endless. Now that the time for Julie’s arrival was approaching, Laura could feel herself getting tense, and it didn’t help when her class of fourth-years started acting up. Usually she had no trouble with her pupils, and she had gained a reputation for being tough, but fair. However, today she found it difficult to keep order, and it wasn’t until she apprehended how hoarse she was getting that she realised she had had to shout to make herself heard.
But at last three-thirty arrived, and after dismissing the fourth-years Laura packed what exercise books she could into her briefcase, and tucked the rest under her arm. By her reckoning, she had at least two hours left to prepare herself for Julie’s arrival, and the way she was feeling she was going to need every minute of it. She didn’t know why she let Julie tie her up in knots like this, but she always did, and Laura intended to have a bath and wash her hair, so that she could have confidence in her appearance, if nothing else.
Burnfoot was situated in some of the most beautiful country in Northumberland. A small community of some one thousand souls, it was surrounded by the rolling fields and hills of the border country, with the crumbling remains of Hadrian’s Wall providing a natural barrier to the north. It was farming country, with tumbling streams and shady forests, and long, straight roads, unfolding towards the old Roman forts of Chesters and Housesteads.
Laura had always loved it. Even though she had been born and brought up in Newcastle, this was the area where she felt most at home, and when the opportunity to buy the cottage had presented itself she had jumped at the chance. She knew Julie had thought she was mad; a single woman, on her own, going to live in some ‘God-forsaken spot’ as she’d put it; but Laura had never had cause to regret her decision. The cottage had been in a poor state of repair when she’d got it, it was true, and it had taken years to get it as she wanted. But that was all behind her now. It was still small, and the ceilings were still too low, but she had had central heating installed, and on a cold winter’s evening she could light the fire in the living-room, and toast her toes.
She was perfectly content, she thought, except on these occasions when Julie invaded her life, and then she was forced to see the cottage’s shortcomings. Julie was adept at pointing out its disadvantages, and never once had she admired the garden Laura had worked so painstakingly to tame, or complimented her mother on providing a home that was both attractive, and full of character.
Laura had decided to prepare fish for dinner. It was a Friday, and she couldn’t be sure that as an Italian, and no doubt a Roman Catholic, Julie’s boyfriend would be prepared to eat meat. She had bought some plaice, and she intended to cook it in a white wine sauce. She had decided not to provide a starter, and instead she had bought a strawberry shortcake to supplement the cheese and crackers that she herself preferred. She knew Julie had a sweet tooth, and, although she was generally on some diet or another, she could be relied upon to be tempted by the dessert. It also meant she could prepare everything in advance, and leave the fish on a low heat while she took her bath.
Before she could attend to her own needs, however, there was the bed in the spare room to make up, and fresh towels to put out. She drew a pretty, chintzy cover on to the duvet, and then surveyed the room critically, trying to see it through a stranger’s eyes. She couldn’t imagine what a man, who evidently came from a wealthy background, would think of this tiny bedroom, with its accent on feminine tastes. The carpet was cream, the walls were a delicate shade of pink, and the curtains matched the cover on the duvet. Laura herself had made the pleated skirt that swagged the small dressing-table, and even she had to duck her head to look out of the window.
Oh, well, she thought after opening the window and inhaling the cool air of an April evening, at least the view from the window was worth looking at, even if the spring was dragging its heels in this part of the world.
The bathroom was modern anyway, she reflected some time later, soaking in a warm, scented tub. Until she had been able to afford the renovations to the plumbing system, she had had to make do with rather primitive conditions, which was probably one of the reasons why Julie had only visited the cottage once before the new bathroom was installed. But now, although again everything had had to be scaled down to fit its surroundings, the tub was satisfyingly deep, and there was even
