Free Looking for JJ by Anne Cassidy Page B

hallway. Her gran’s back was facing her, her shoulders hunched. Even though Jennifer couldn’t see her face she could tell that she was angry. The top of one of her arms wobbled as if she was pointing her finger at someone and her legs were stiff, like a sentry on guard duty. Jennifer imagined her face all screwed up, her lips pursed up into a little bunch.
    “She is not my responsibility. She’s been here too long already. You can’t just dump her when it’s not convenient. . . I don’t bloody well care what sort of a job. . . I’ll have to contact social services. . . I can’t have a kid living with me. I’m warning you. You keep this up much longer and she won’t be here when you come back. . .”
    A growling sound startled Jennifer. Her gran turned round to see what it was and saw Jennifer there. Nelson was standing at the door of the living room, baring his teeth.
    “I’ve got to go,” her gran snapped and replaced the handset. “Jenny, you should be in bed,” she said, walking along the hallway, lifting her foot to shoo the dog back into the living room.
    “Was that my mum?” Jennifer said.
    “Yes. She sends her love and says she’s going to come and get you soon. Come on, now. Back into bed.” Her gran took her hand and led her back to the tiny bed, tucking the covers around her. She stood up to go and then hesitated, bending over to give Jennifer a peck on the cheek, leaving behind her the aroma of cigarettes. The room door clicked shut and from the living room she could hear the sound of the television and her gran’s voice, lighter, cheerful even, talking to Nelson.
    The schools were all full up, her gran said, when she asked. There wasn’t really much point in her going anyway because her mum would come one day and take her off to live somewhere else. Then she’d have to start all over again looking for another new school. So she spent her days in the living room watching the television. In the background there was the rumble of the sewing machine and by her side, in the armchair, she could see the disapproving face of Nelson, his tiny paws crossed in resignation.
    One Tuesday, after she’d been at her gran’s for weeks, her mum came unexpectedly. The doorbell rang, and when her gran went to answer it Jennifer heard the familiar voice. In seconds, as though she’d flown straight past her gran, her mum was there, in the living room beside her.
    “Jennifer, love,” she said squatting down in front of her. “Mummy’s missed you!”
    Jennifer couldn’t speak. She just looked in astonishment. After many days of the dreary flat, the grumpy dog and Gran’s fog of cigarette smoke, her mum bending down in front of her was like an apparition.
    “Haven’t you got a kiss for me?”
    Jennifer threw her arms round her mum and hugged her tightly, weaving her fingers in and out of each other so that she could keep hold of her. Her face buried in her mum’s neck, she inhaled the scent of her perfume, felt the tickle of her hair and the cold metal of her earring.
    “Look,” her mum whispered, trying to disengage herself. “I’ve bought you a present!”
    But she wouldn’t let go. Over her mum’s shoulder she could see her gran standing by the telly giving both of them a sour look.
    “And I’ve got something for you!” her mum said, straining to look around at Gran, whose expression didn’t change.
    Jennifer felt a pang of resentment. Why was her mum bothering with Gran? Hadn’t she been talking to her on the telephone for weeks? Wasn’t this Jennifer’s turn? She closed her eyes for a moment, blocking out her gran’s square head, the little curl of smoke that was twisting its way up to the ceiling. Later, when her mum had gently pulled her hands away from her neck, they sat on the sofa together. Her mum put a wrapped present on her lap. Jennifer, feeling lightheaded, let it lie there, feeling over it with her fingers.
    “Are we going home?” she said.
    “Not right now, love.