Free Tarnished by Julia Crouch Page A

peering over Peg’s shoulder. ‘Out in the middle of nowhere. And look at the size of that pool. Daddy’s loaded.’
    ‘I hope his new family’s OK with me showing up.’
    ‘Jesus Christ, Peg.’
    ‘I wonder what he’s going to say, me turning up out of the blue.’
    ‘It’d better be “sorry”,’ Loz said, moving over to the fridge and pulling out a cling-film-covered bowl. ‘Fucking off and leaving you just when you needed him most.’
    ‘He was broken-hearted when Mum died.’
    Loz whacked the bowl down on the work surface. ‘And you weren’t?’
    Peg closed her eyes and rested her forehead in her hands. ‘Please, Loz. Don’t.’
    ‘You’ve got to put yourself first sometimes and—’
    ‘Please? I just need to get him to make whatever it is up with Nan before it’s too late. That’s all. I don’t want to complicate it all with the other stuff. Not now.’
    ‘I know.’ Loz crossed back to Peg, put her arms round her and kissed her on the top of her head. ‘I’m sorry. Sorry.’
    ‘I just want to be practical about this.’
    ‘Of course. It’s just I don’t know how you can’t get involved with all the other stuff as well.’
    ‘We’re just different people, aren’t we?’
    ‘You can say that again.’ Loz kissed her a second time. ‘Now, I’ve got to dash. Mouths to feed.’
    ‘What’s in the bowl?’ Peg said.
    Loz fetched the bowl, whipped off the cling film and showed it to Peg.
    ‘Well now. The tofu’s nicely marinading, and I’ve chopped all the veg for you – so you just whack it in the wok. Do the onions, ginger and garlic first for a few minutes, and stir-fry. Then you throw on Loz’s teriyaki marvel sauce from here,’ she pulled a jam jar full of a dark purple sticky substance out of the fridge, shook it twice and replaced it. ‘And bish bosh, Jean’s your aunty, supper for Saint Margaret.’
    ‘I don’t deserve you,’ Peg said, looking up at her.
    ‘You bloody well do, you know.’ Loz bent to kiss her on the nose, then pulled on her jacket, grabbed her backpack and stuffed her sequinned Union Jack purse inside it. ‘Raymond won’t know what hits him when we turn up on his doorstep, expecting him to step up to the mark, Prodigal Son style.’
    ‘We?’ Peg said, alarmed.
    ‘Well, I’m not letting you go out there on your own. You’re going to need some support.’
    ‘No, no, no,’ Peg said, getting up and taking Loz’s hands in her own. ‘I have to do this on my own.’
    ‘What?’ There was a long silence as Loz bored her green eyes into Peg. ‘ What? ’
    ‘I need to keep it as simple as possible.’
    ‘You mean you don’t want him to see you turn up with me,’ Loz said, pulling her hands away. An angry flush spread across her cheeks. ‘You don’t want Daddy to see you’ve got a girlfriend.’
    ‘Of course it’s not that.’
    ‘It is, you know. You’re such a coward sometimes, Peg. You’re just so . . .’ Exasperated, Loz shook herself away from Peg. ‘Look. Let him see you for what you are. It’s not that bad, you know, Peg. It’s really not so bad.’
    ‘I need to see him on my own.’
    ‘This is why I’ve not met Doll and Jean yet, isn’t it?’
    ‘That’s rubbish.’ But Peg knew Loz had a very good point.
    ‘Because you’re scared to let them know. You’re buying into some homophobia you’re imagining for them.’
    ‘I’m not!’ She wasn’t. She didn’t need to imagine homophobia. It was rife in the Tankerton bungalow – on Jean’s side, at least. Peg had witnessed it in full flow many times, as disgust vented at a TV soap storyline or some tabloid article.
    It was all right for Loz, with her right-on Camden parents who loved the fact their fourth daughter was a lesbian, and who had been especially over the moon when they met Peg.
    ‘Extra kudos for the skin tone,’ Loz had remarked sotto voce as Naomi and Richard had danced round her, failing to restrain themselves from asking about her parentage –