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Authors: Raffaella Barker
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slid into the driverâs seat muttering about traffic wardens.
Mick shoved the ticket in his pocket.
âCalm you down, Danny boy. I parked here earlier and left the car while I went around town a bit, thatâs all.â
In the back seat Christy lolled her head on Mickâs shoulder, warm and happy with his arm around her. She looked up at him.
âWell, how did you see Dad then?â Her voice was lazy as she twisted herself until she was comfortable resting against his side.
Mickâs arm tensed and his frame was as unyielding as metal beside her. He sighed, pressing his fingers knuckle white on the back of the driverâs seat.
âI never said I saw your dad, girl, I called him up. Is that OK with you? Now stop policing me. Turn right here, Danny.
Right
, I said. Jesus, will we be living after this journey is the question now.â He hugged both arms around Christy, and the car spat dust on to the twilight road.
Chapter 5
Christy did not enhance her motherâs beauty like Maisie and Danny. Their colouring, their tall grace set off Jessicaâs moon cool to perfection. Christy tagged along behind her mother, anxious to please her. It was like chasing a shadow: no matter how hard Christy tried, she could not make her mother turn to her with the easy affection of childhood.
Christy was fifteen when she began to understand how her mother hated getting old and blamed her for it. There was a shopping trip Christy remembered. It began badly. Danny was away camping with a friend, so everything he needed for school had to be selected by his sisters. Maisie headed with unerring eye for the most expensive version of school trainers, sweatshirts and tracksuits, sneering and mocking her mother as she searched through the sale racks. Christy darted back and forth between them, trying to divert Maisieâs lashing scorn, glancing anxiously at her mother whose brow creaseddeep and then deeper when she saw Christy watching her.
Jessicaâs mood changed when they left the department store, Dannyâs uniform parcelled and awaiting collection later. She linked arms with her daughters, and smiled, pulling them forward to giggle at a window where a youth blushed in his struggle to pull tights over the stiff legs of a naked mannequin. Their heads together laughing, embracing in the street, the reflection in the shop window was of three girls. Jessica saw this when she threw back her head and her veins raced with triumph. Her daughters hovered on the brink of womanhood and she was forty and still as slight and graceful as they were.
She hugged them both closer and said, âIâm going to do it. I want to buy you each a grown-up party dress. Itâs my own money, left by my aunt, and itâs time you each had something special.â
Maisie hardly waited for her to finish speaking.
âGod, thanks, Mum. I know what I want. Come in here, quick.â She dragged her mother and sister into a small shop where music throbbed from the open door.
Jessica was disconcerted. She had imagined they would go and drink coffee first, and talk about where they might go, what they might buy. A cloud of femininity and fashion talk would roll over them and the occasion would be marked with celebration. But that was not Maisieâs way. She smiled as her elder daughter came out of the changing room pirouetting, a skinof gold hardly covering her. It wasnât possible for Maisie to wait and talk, she was too impulsive.
âWhat do you think, Mum?â Maisie snaked her spine high and tiptoed in front of the mirror, holding her hair up with both hands, twisting so she could see her back. The colour flowed down from her hair into her dress, shifting like scales in the light.
Jessica blinked.
âYou look lovely, darling, but isnât it a bit short?â
Christy nudged her.
âDonât say that, Mum, sheâll just try and find a shorter one.â
Maisie stalked back into the
Mick shoved the ticket in his pocket.
âCalm you down, Danny boy. I parked here earlier and left the car while I went around town a bit, thatâs all.â
In the back seat Christy lolled her head on Mickâs shoulder, warm and happy with his arm around her. She looked up at him.
âWell, how did you see Dad then?â Her voice was lazy as she twisted herself until she was comfortable resting against his side.
Mickâs arm tensed and his frame was as unyielding as metal beside her. He sighed, pressing his fingers knuckle white on the back of the driverâs seat.
âI never said I saw your dad, girl, I called him up. Is that OK with you? Now stop policing me. Turn right here, Danny.
Right
, I said. Jesus, will we be living after this journey is the question now.â He hugged both arms around Christy, and the car spat dust on to the twilight road.
Chapter 5
Christy did not enhance her motherâs beauty like Maisie and Danny. Their colouring, their tall grace set off Jessicaâs moon cool to perfection. Christy tagged along behind her mother, anxious to please her. It was like chasing a shadow: no matter how hard Christy tried, she could not make her mother turn to her with the easy affection of childhood.
Christy was fifteen when she began to understand how her mother hated getting old and blamed her for it. There was a shopping trip Christy remembered. It began badly. Danny was away camping with a friend, so everything he needed for school had to be selected by his sisters. Maisie headed with unerring eye for the most expensive version of school trainers, sweatshirts and tracksuits, sneering and mocking her mother as she searched through the sale racks. Christy darted back and forth between them, trying to divert Maisieâs lashing scorn, glancing anxiously at her mother whose brow creaseddeep and then deeper when she saw Christy watching her.
Jessicaâs mood changed when they left the department store, Dannyâs uniform parcelled and awaiting collection later. She linked arms with her daughters, and smiled, pulling them forward to giggle at a window where a youth blushed in his struggle to pull tights over the stiff legs of a naked mannequin. Their heads together laughing, embracing in the street, the reflection in the shop window was of three girls. Jessica saw this when she threw back her head and her veins raced with triumph. Her daughters hovered on the brink of womanhood and she was forty and still as slight and graceful as they were.
She hugged them both closer and said, âIâm going to do it. I want to buy you each a grown-up party dress. Itâs my own money, left by my aunt, and itâs time you each had something special.â
Maisie hardly waited for her to finish speaking.
âGod, thanks, Mum. I know what I want. Come in here, quick.â She dragged her mother and sister into a small shop where music throbbed from the open door.
Jessica was disconcerted. She had imagined they would go and drink coffee first, and talk about where they might go, what they might buy. A cloud of femininity and fashion talk would roll over them and the occasion would be marked with celebration. But that was not Maisieâs way. She smiled as her elder daughter came out of the changing room pirouetting, a skinof gold hardly covering her. It wasnât possible for Maisie to wait and talk, she was too impulsive.
âWhat do you think, Mum?â Maisie snaked her spine high and tiptoed in front of the mirror, holding her hair up with both hands, twisting so she could see her back. The colour flowed down from her hair into her dress, shifting like scales in the light.
Jessica blinked.
âYou look lovely, darling, but isnât it a bit short?â
Christy nudged her.
âDonât say that, Mum, sheâll just try and find a shorter one.â
Maisie stalked back into the