Free Parallel Life by Ruth Hamilton Page A

questioned him about any of his ‘house clearances’ and ‘special offers’; hadn’t worried, because he and his ill-gotten gains were to have been her gateway out of a senseless life. She glanced to her left, saw him peering round his mother’s net curtains. So, she would have to change the shop alarm and the one at home. Those things could wait a day or two because he would certainly not trespass further on her anger just yet. Harriet’s shop would need to be dealt with, also. Lisa would have a word with Hermione, too, as soon as possible. It was time to come clean.
    Her stomach threatened to rise to the occasion, so she took a barley-sugar sweet from the glove compartment. There was no food in her, and that was the reason for digestive misbehaviour. Sugar for shock , she told herself as she pulled away from the bungalow. He had a few shocks coming, but he’d be needing more than sweets as a cure.
    Gus was home – oh, joy. From behind a newspaper, he asked if she’d had a pleasant day. She told him it had been wonderful and that the shop had been razed to the ground in an arson attack. ‘Good,’ he replied, ‘that’s the ticket.’
    Ticket to madness , she thought as she made herself a small meal of cheese and crackers. It was a warm evening, so she carried the food out to the garden and sat on the swing. She placed the glass of fresh orange on a small wooden table, picked at a cracker and a bit of Brie. Dusk was gathering, and the security lights blinked on and off each time she moved, but they were behind her, so they didn’t interfere. She was halfway through her second cream cracker when she noticed her daughter sitting in the gazebo. After swallowing a mouthful of juice and a great deal of nervousness, she picked up plate and glass before walking towards Harriet.
    â€˜Hi,’ said the girl when her mother arrived. ‘Long day?’
    â€˜The longest ever,’ Lisa replied. ‘Total disaster.’
    â€˜Ah.’ Harrie knew not to enquire further; if her mother wanted to talk, she would.
    â€˜Lunch with Sadie Fisher. She’s going in for liposuction soon. I hope they have a strong machine – she’s carrying more fat than a pork butcher.’
    Harrie sighed quietly. Conversations with her mother could be a bit repetitive.
    â€˜And there was a scene in the restaurant, rather embarrassing. I need to think before I can talk about it, but I seem to be in a bit of a pickle.’
    Again, Harrie offered neither question nor comment.
    â€˜I’ve been a terrible mother, haven’t I?’
    Harrie’s spine was suddenly rigid. This was definitely not one of Lisa’s usual topics. ‘I don’t know. You’re the only mother I’ve had.’
    â€˜No. You had Hermione and Eileen. I wasn’t needed, and I got used to that. Oh, and I’m a bit selfish.’
    Harrie remained silent.
    â€˜It seemed easier if I worked and your gran looked after you. She’d just been diagnosed and decided to conserve her energies for her grandchild. I was sort of surplus to requirements. That just went on through my second pregnancy and Benjamin’s birth. It became a habit.’ She bit her lip. ‘I have the feeling I owe you an apology.’
    Now was the time for speech. ‘Mum, I love you. I don’t always like you, but I love you. And I am sick to the molars of the blame and compensation culture – it’s mad. If a child is too thin, it’s the parents’ fault – if he’s fat, ditto. Doesn’t behave at school? Oh, that’ll be because his dad thumped him once, ten years ago. It’s a load of tripe and vinegar. Life’s hard. End of.’
    Tears threatened yet again. Lisa knew she was going to weep at some stage, but she needed the privacy of her own bedroom before indulging herself. ‘I just wish I’d done things differently.’
    â€˜We can all say