Free Parallel Life by Ruth Hamilton Page B

that.’
    â€˜Thank you, Harriet. Thank you very much.’ Lisa took herself and her half-eaten supper back to the house. Leaving her dishes for Eileen to deal with in the morning, she dragged herself upstairs much earlier than usual, went through the exfoliation and oiling routine, held back her grief.
    She was almost ready for bed when her phone rang. Digging deep in today’s handbag, she responded to her over-loud ring tone – the sound track from Peter Kay’s mockery of ‘Amarillo’. ‘Hello?’
    â€˜It’s me. Annie Nuttall. Have to be quick, I’m in a call box and you’re on mobile. I’ve left him. Still need to pick up some things, but I’ve made the break.’
    â€˜I’m sorry.’
    â€˜Don’t be – he’s a criminal. Now, listen.’
    â€˜You will say this only once?’
    A nervous giggle was followed by: ‘The woman you were eating with. Doesn’t she sell handbags and stuff at Jenkinson’s?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜I’ll leave it a day or two, then I’ll nip down to Jenky’s and have a look round. I’ll be very surprised to see her, and I’ll apologize for disturbing your meal. You were the wrong woman. I can do nothing about the rest of the folk who were eating there, but I’ll tell Antoine. Then, if it’s talked about, he can nip it in the bud. You know my husband, but it’s only through business, right?’
    â€˜Right.’ She was going to sob very soon.
    â€˜You never had sex with that man.’
    In spite of her deep unhappiness, Lisa grinned. ‘I never had sex with that man. I’ll tell Senate, Congress and the country, eh? Do a Clinton?’
    â€˜I don’t care what you do, but be safe. I’ve got to go. The twins are thinking about having mumps.’
    â€˜I’m sorry.’
    â€˜So am I. Life’s hard enough without having them two buggers making it worse. Ta-ra, Lise.’
    â€˜Bye, Annie. God bless you.’
    Lisa sat in her lonely room and sobbed her heart out. She grieved for what she had lost, though she had never had it because it had been a lie. Another lie in a long series of untruths from men, including her husband. She mourned two neglected children, knowing all the time that for Ben it was too late. She wept because she feared tomorrow, its emptiness and hopelessness, and she was not looking forward to talking to Hermione. The wise old bird had to know. Lisa wasn’t stupid, but her head was in a muddle just now. And she wept into a handkerchief because Annie Nuttall had been so kind. Annie Nuttall was in danger of becoming her first real friend.
    â€˜Why should she care?’ she asked her tear-stained reflection. Why should anyone care for so neglectful a mother, so self-absorbed a woman? Why the bloody hell had her husband’s oddness been a part of his attraction, all those years ago? He was odd, all right. His son was even odder. At least Harriet talks to me sometimes , she thought. Ben won’t even sit and eat with me on Christmas Day .
    Benjamin had been too heavy a burden for his sister. Harriet was biting her nails again. I have to turn over a new leaf. It has to stop being about me, after I’ve protected myself from Alec/Jimmy. Bastard. He has to be dealt with. Hermione will know how to cope . She climbed into her narrow bed and, amazingly, fell asleep almost immediately. Lisa Compton-Milne was thoroughly exhausted.
    â€˜Come in, Lisa – don’t hover. Or do you want me to stagger across on my Zimmer to help you in? Eileen’s gone shopping, so we are quite alone.’
    Lisa didn’t know where to start, and she said so.
    â€˜Beginning, middle, end – doesn’t matter to me because I’ll have it all mixed up by tomorrow. But I can see the red eyes and white knuckles, so get it off your chest before that changes colour as well.’
    Lisa obeyed, perching nervously on the