The Age of Misadventure. Judy Leigh

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ right …’

      I’m next to her, sitting on the chair arm, trying to hug her. She’s twisting away, furious, her hand over her face, making all the signs that she doesn’t want me to ask her anything. So, naturally, I persist.

      ‘Jade, what’s happened? Where have you been all night? Has something bad happened? Has someone hurt you? If they have, I swear I’ll—’

      She gulps. ‘I’m all right, Mum.’

      I put my hands on my hips, stand upright. ‘I can see you’re not. You’re upset. I’m not having this. Come on – out with it. Has someone …?’

      She stares up and the anger in her eyes dissolves. Her lip trembles and I squat down, take her hands.

      ‘Jade …?’

      She shakes her head. ‘You wouldn’t understand, Mum.’

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘You just wouldn’t. You’re not the type. You wouldn’t get it.’

      ‘Try me.’ I squeeze her hands in mine. With effort, I make my voice soft. ‘What is it, sweetheart? You can tell me anything.’

      Her eyes meet mine and I notice tears, huge spheres swelling and tipping over. Then she swallows, takes a breath.

      ‘I’ve met someone.’

      ‘And?’ I lean forwards.

      ‘And nothing.’ Her breath shudders. ‘I just met someone. I know that he’s the right one for me. I’m sure.’

      A motor seems to rev and roar in the vicinity of my heart, a loud, fierce engine, and my mind accelerates with it. So does my mouth. My hands grab her shoulders.

      ‘Oh. I see. You’ve met a man. And I suppose he’s married, is that it? He loves you but he won’t leave his little wifey? Is that how it goes? Some two-timing, sneaky—’

      ‘Mum.’ She wriggles away from me. ‘I knew you wouldn’t understand.’

      I feel my face become hot and I take a deep breath. ‘Sorry, Jade. I didn’t mean to go off the deep end. I just worry.’

      ‘I’m twenty-four.’

      I take a moment, smile, beam, try to make my face resemble an Oscar winner in the middle of paparazzi. ‘I’m so glad you met someone, love. So, tell me all about him.’ She frowns; her eyebrows cross suspiciously, so I grin even more. ‘I’m all ears.’

      She waits for ten seconds, another ten, then her voice is quiet. ‘I met him at a private party. We spent yesterday evening and the whole of last night together.’

      I’m about to jump in with a comment about it all being a bit sudden and then hit her with the follow-up remark about contraception and STIs, but I clamp my lips together and wait. She snuffles.

      ‘We were together briefly this morning. He stayed on to be with me. We talked and talked. He’s amazing, Mum. Kind and sweet and really nice. And we both said it together. It’s been instantaneous for us both and we both know it’s right.’ She checks my expression and I make sure I’m not doing my cynical face. I’m doing my happy-adoring-approving-Mum face. She whispers, ‘We love each other.’

      My cheeks ache with grinning and I need to relax them by speaking, so I say, ‘That’s wonderful, Jade.’ I pause, hoping she notices my full, unswerving support, then I try again. ‘So, why so sad?’

      The tears tumble again and she’s sobbing too hard to find breath to talk. I hug her and she leans on my shoulder. My neck has become damp and she whispers, ‘It’s awful, Mum. He’s gone back home. I won’t be able to see him often. He’s away a lot of the time. It’s his job.’

      I try not to say that absence is a positive, to tell her the cliché that it makes the heart grow fonder. I don’t know what to say, so I settle for, ‘Is he in the army, then?’

      She shakes her head. ‘No, Mum. It’s worse than that.’

      My mind is filling with all sorts of frightening scenarios. She’s fallen in love with a gangster. Drug dealer. Long-distance lorry driver. Illegal immigrant. Travelling salesman. Undercover investigator. Tramp.

      I opt for something positive and safe and ask, ‘Is he an airline pilot?’ and wait until her sobs subside.

      Then she whispers, ‘No, Mum. He lives in Brighton, works in London. He travels all over the country, all the time. He trains every day, all hours, all week, plays games all over the world. I’ll hardly ever see him. His job is his life … He’s a professional footballer.’

       Chapter Three

      Business is frantic for the whole week in the salon. Although Jade has several clients in the gym each day, she spends most of her time ringing and texting her new boyfriend. I even hear her speaking Spanish to him, although I’m sure that’s for my benefit, as I know her Spanish isn’t fluent, given her compulsively bad behaviour in modern languages when she was at school. My friend Amanda, who trained as a beauty therapist with me years ago, is my full-time assistant in the salon. She and I are working through a fully booked schedule, doing manicures, pedicures, massages, tanning, waxing. It’s non-stop.

      By Friday, we’ve hardly had time for a natter, so I suggest we have lunch upstairs together, especially since Jade is down below in the gym doing one-to-one isometrics with an amateur racing cyclist who’s just turned forty and wants to improve his chances of winning races. Amanda and I go up to the kitchen and I make us a salad sandwich and a cup of tea. She holds up her hands and examines her chipped nails.

      ‘I’m owed a manicure on the house, Georgie. Look at the state of these nails. I look like an alley cat.’

      I put a coffee down in front of her and smile as she attacks it with relish. She’s been my friend since we were at college together and we share so much history. I watch her hunched over the table, her shoes off, wriggling her pink painted toes, her feet stretched out at the end of bright orange-and-black leggings. Her hair is long, wavy and intensely red; although, as she’s told me several times, the bottle proclaimed it was cherry copper. She has laughing blue eyes and loves to wear colourful clothes. ‘Unless I’m avoiding a fella. In which case it’s the SAS jumpsuit and a balaclava.’ Amanda’s been married twice and she’s now living with a firefighter called Rhys, whom she claims is the love of her life. Where romance is concerned, she’s a self-proclaimed expert.

      She waves a hand. ‘The problem is, Georgie – we need more help in the treatment room and Jade’s too loved-up to get her backside in gear. I mean, I’ve worked with you here for what? Five years? How many days have I missed?’

      ‘Two. Both hangovers.’

      ‘I know,’ she sighs. ‘But, I’m always here to work, always good old Amanda ready to paint someone’s nails and dye their eyelashes, spray them fifty shades of orange. We’re flat out, you and me. Where’s Jade? When she’s finished with the client downstairs, she’ll be back on the phone again.’

      I СКАЧАТЬ