Free Living in the Shadows by Judith Barrow Page B

she’s more than a friend … she’s my girlfriend.’ She watched as her mother slowly stopped chewing.
    Jean swallowed, her face reddening. Then she coughed, spluttered out crumbs. Dabbing her mouth with her handkerchief she reached for her cup and gulped at the tea. ‘What exactly do you mean?’ she asked, when she could speak.
    Jackie moved to the settee opposite her mother and clasped her hands. This was going to be as bad as she thought it would be. She noticed her knuckles were white and loosened her fingers. ‘I mean,’ she gave each word emphasis, ‘Nicki and me … we’re not just friends … we’re lovers.’
    There was a long dragging pause. Then: ‘No.’ Jean clashed the cup into the saucer, pushed herself from her chair. She fluttered her hands, rejecting Jackie’s words. ‘No. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. What you’re saying … what you’re saying … it’s disgusting. Disgusting.’ She left the room, bumping into the door-frame as she went.
    Jackie waited, wondering what to do. Unable to keep still, she stood up, massaging the back of one hand, listening for any sound from the kitchen. Eventually, hearing nothing she followed her mother.
    Jean was watching the next-door neighbour taking in her washing. ‘That woman has never spoken to me, you know,’ she said. ‘Not once. She doesn’t even acknowledge I’m on the other side of the fence when I’m in the garden.’ Her tone was bitter. ‘I asked your father years ago to put a higher one up but he never did. Too much like hard work, I suppose. Too much like hard work.’
    ‘Mum.’ Jackie touched her back.
    ‘No.’ Jean moved away into the dining room. ‘No.’ She stood in front of the mirror over the sideboard and tugged at a curl by her temple. ‘See? More grey hairs? I need a visit to the hairdressers, I think.’
    ‘Mum—’
    ‘No.’ Jean swung around, faced Jackie. ‘I don’t want to hear any more of that talk. Ever.’
    Jackie kept steady eye-contact with her mother. ‘I think it’s a bit late for that. Jack knows.’
    ‘Your brother knows? How can he?’ Jean’s mouth opened, closed and opened again. ‘How?’ Holding on to the table and the backs of the chairs as though she would otherwise fall, she walked towards Jackie.
    ‘Half-brother.’ Jackie couldn’t stop herself. ‘Jack is only my half-brother and he’s always resented me.’ Even though, as a child, she’d adored him. ‘You know that.’ The way Jean idolised Jack, she sometimes thought her mother didn’t remember that he wasn’t her natural son: that she’d been forced to take on the child of one of her husband’s many affairs. ‘He knows because he saw me and Nicki together.’
    She waited but Jean ignored Jackie’s last words. ‘He wouldn’t think anything of that.’ Jean pushed her lips out. ‘He knows … thinks you’re just flatmates.’
    ‘We were holding hands.’ They’d actually been kissing, believing they wouldn’t be seen in the small booth concealed from the bar, celebrating Nicki’s promotion to legal administrator at the solicitors’ firm where she worked.
    Jean flinched and closed her eyes. ‘You mustn’t tell your father. He must never know anything about … what you’ve just said.’
    ‘That I’m a lesbian, Mother?’
    ‘Don’t use such disgusting words.’ Jean slapped Jackie, hard, across the face. Breathing heavily she said, ‘He mustn’t ever find out… he must never find out what you are.’ Her lip curled. ‘It’s been bad enough with you going into the police force. You haven’t a clue what I’ve had to put up with from him about that. But this…’
    Jackie held her cheek. ‘I’m a lesbian, Mother. Jack knows. And, before long, so will Dad. Jack won’t be able to resist telling him. And there’s nothing you – or I – can do about it.’

Chapter 15: Mary & Peter Schormann
    Llamroth, morning: Friday, September 19th
    ‘There has to be something to tell us where she’s