Read Online The Drowning by Valerie Mendes - Free Book Online Page B

coming down to see us.”
    “Is she?” Jenna slammed a cup into its saucer.
    “Thought you’d be delighted.”
    “Not if she’s going to give me another hard time about turning down my place.”
    “I’m sure she won’t.” Dad fastened the strings of his apron. “Anyway, I’m over the moon that we’re working together.” He hesitated. “Tamsyn says she wants to see whether Mum will go back with her, to London, for a little break.”
    Jenna bit her lip. “She’ll have to prise her out of that room of hers first!”
    “That’s the whole point . . . I can’t seem to get through to her . . . Like I told you, she’s hardly eating, she’s certainly not sleeping.” He flicked aimlessly at a spotless table top. “I reckon if she goes on like this, she’ll—”
    “She’ll what, Dad?”
    “I dunno. Do something stupid.”
    Jenna said tonelessly, “Sorry, Dad . . . Mum’s your problem, not mine.”
    Dad cleared his throat. “I understand.”
    But he went on flicking at the table, as if he wanted it to disappear.
    Jenna sighed. “What is it, Dad? Spit it out.”
    “It’s Sunday.”
    “Is that when Tamsyn’s coming?”
    Dad looked across at her. The nervous flicking stopped. “Yes.” His face suddenly flushed, his eyes glittered with excitement. “I’ve planned the whole thing . . . Mum’s birthday. The big five-o. I’m taking her for a special Sunday lunch at Porthminster Café . . . Booked a table and everything.” He chewed at his lip. “Thing is . . . While we’re out, I wondered whether you could clear Benjie’s room. Not a lot, don’t throw anything away, just tidy it so Tamsyn can sleep in the room comfortably without cutting her feet on toys all over the floor.”
    “But Mum said—”
    “I know what she said. She’d drunk two bottles of wine, she was out of her mind. She hasn’t been upstairs to Benjie’s room since—” He whacked at a wasp which buzzed neatly away. “She’ll never notice the difference, not if you’re careful.”
    Jenna straightened her back. She stared out of the window at the faultlessly blue sky; at a boy on his skateboard, his face solemn and determined, rattling down towards the Digey; at a seagull standing on one leg, relentlessly pecking at a cobblestone before his throat heaved its unflagging, single-note call.
    She said, “It’s going to be another lovely day.”
    Not that I’ll see any of it from in here.
    The heatwave broke that Sunday morning.
    Showers of rain lashed the beaches. Crowds of disappointed bodies scurried for cover. Gulls screamed into the sky. Cats crouched indoors on window ledges, staring out. Jenna bundled the washing off its narrow line in the courtyard.
    Mum shuffled downstairs looking puffy and listless. She wore an emerald-green suit with a matching shirt which seemed to drain the colour from her face. A ladder in one of her stockings snaked its way relentlessly towards her knee.
    “Do I look all right, Elwyn?” Pat, pat, went the hand to the hair. “I seem to have put on a bit of weight.”
    “Fine, dear, you look just fine . . . I love that colour on you.” Dad beamed at her. “Doesn’t she look wonderful, Jenn?”
    Jenna slammed another ironed shirt on the pile.
    “We won’t be late.” Dad said. “Pity about our open-air table. Looks like we’ll have to eat under cover if this rain goes on . . . I’ve left you an avocado salad in the fridge, Jenn. One of my specials.”
    Yeah, sure, throw some food at me and hope it’ll make everything OK.
    The minute they’d left, Jenna switched off the iron, took a deep breath and walked determinedly up the stairs.
    She pushed blindly into Benjie’s room and shut the door. The room was trapped in impossibly stuffy air, as if it hadn’t been lived in for years. She threw open the window. Gulls circled the rooftops, eyeing her.
    She turned and forced herself to look around the room. The space on the low table where the guinea pigs’ cage had been loured at her