Laying the Ghost by Judy Astley

Author:Judy Astley
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781407039541
Publisher: Transworld

10

Manic Monday

(The Bangles)

‘SO. LAST WEDNESDAY – where were you, Mimi? Why weren’t you in school?’

Eight in the morning probably wasn’t the most sensible time to try and get this sorted, but Nell’s theory was that if you pounced on Mimi with a really tricky question while she was still warm from sleep, she was likely to come up with the truth, entirely because she was still too dozy to think of an instant convincing lie. The evening before, Mimi had stayed on at Polly’s, ganging up in Don and Evie’s faux-Gothic conservatory to swop embarrassing-mother experiences, so there was no opportunity to confront her. Nell’s evening had turned into a sudden write-off. Apart from loyal Kate’s, each of the faces that turned to her after she’d been unexpectedly caught in possession of a lying, wayward daughter, expressed the same gleeful anticipation of trouble ahead. Sweet, clever, pretty Mimi: the one who’d got it all in looks and brains and a potential brilliant future to boot – she was showing early signs, after all, of being a holy teenage terror for her newly single mum. What a result. Every woman’s face said one thing: thank you, God! This is happening to someone else, not me! I am a top mother: you are a parental-disaster reality show!

Nell felt, though she knew it was an exaggeration, that the baton of thoroughly bad behaviour had been passed from Polly Mitchell to Mimi. Evie was that close to shrieking ‘YESSS!’ and punching the air. Nell had gone off the coral dress, suddenly hated the pig-feet shoes, and had gone home soon after, gloomy and empty-handed, to get into bed with the cat and curse Alex for leaving her to deal with everything. How could he just walk away? How could he think that leaving her the house and everything in it was going to be complete compensation for opting out on all teen management? And why did he no longer want anything from this home that they’d made together – did he value so little every item that they’d chosen? He hadn’t shipped out to New York so much as a single painting (not even the Patrick Proctor lithos that he’d always loved – or claimed he did), not a book, not a photograph, nothing. She’d lain there sleepless and seething and getting hotter and more furious, calling curses from the most venomous gods down on Alex and all errant men.

‘Bath,’ Mimi mumbled from the depths of the fridge. She emerged with the milk, took the cap off and sniffed warily at the contents.

‘You were in the bath? All day?’ Oh God, Nell couldn’t help thinking, was she with a boy? While she had been … ooh yes, sneakily checking out the whereabouts of her own old lost lover?

‘Are you mad? Of course I wasn’t in the bath!’ Mimi sloshed milk clumsily on to her Alpen. It spilt over the sides on to the table. Pablo the cat, waiting on the floor, licked his lips.

‘Bath.

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