Page 73 of Waiting for a Bright New Future

“There’s your answer. Nothing has changed between you and Florence, therefore continue the business arrangement.”

“But Jayne doesn’t like her.”

“Do you like the clients at Jayne’s solicitor’s office? Do you like her colleagues or her boss?”

“I don’t know them. But it doesn’t matter whether I like them or not. It’s just her work.”

“Exactly. And Florence is your ‘work’.”

* * *

The noise of loud canned laughter battered Stuart’s ears when he opened his front door. Eunice and Shayne, dressed in pyjamas, were on the sofa watching a game show which seemed to involve adults in brightly coloured outfits racing around and pouring buckets of shaving foam over each other. Florence came out of the kitchen with two mugs of hot chocolate and almost collided with him in the hallway. They both looked down at the slops of brown liquid that had escaped the cups.

“I’ll fetch a cloth.” Their identical words crashed against each other. For a second their eyes met and then Stuart had to look away. This new, returned Florence was different, more vulnerable and less of a confident performer.

He signalled she should continue into the lounge. With a damp cloth he rubbed at the stain. The marks were of no great consequence on the worn hall carpet; whoever bought this place would throw it away. The volume of the television went down and the conversation of his three guests became audible.

“Drink up quickly. Mr Borefield is back, so it’s time to be quiet and creep upstairs to bed like little mice.”

“Can Tibby come with us?” the little girl asked.

Through the open door, Stuart could see the cat stretched out on Eunice’s lap, no doubt purring and making her feel loved and warm inside.

“Best not. We don’t want Tibby to get shut in anywhere upstairs and have an accident.”

“But—”

“Sshh!” Florence stopped the little girl from protesting.

Stuart retreated to the kitchen and a few minutes later the children and their grandmother went upstairs. The phone made him jump.

“Why is she still there? And who are the children? Mum says they were running round the garden earlier.”

The catch in Jayne’s voice made him feel guilty. He tried to think how to soften the blow and let her know that he still loved her.

She didn’t give him time before charging on. “At lunchtime I get engaged. I go back to work, explain to my colleagues why I’m late and they rush out to buy flowers and cake. They’ve even given me a bottle of sparkling wine to bring home and drink with you tonight. It doesn’t look like there’s going to be much chance of a romantic evening, does it?”

“I’m really sorry, Jayne.” How could something so important go so horribly wrong?

“Are you calling the whole thing off?”

“No! I didn’t know Florence was coming back. I didn’t know they’d be homeless.”

“Send them to the council.”

“I can’t do that. They might end up somewhere awful.”

“So what’s going to happen?”

“They’re going to stay here until things get sorted out.”

Jayne ended the call. Stuart felt like a baddie.

“Thank you.”

He turned. Florence was standing in the kitchen doorway. Her eyes were wet with tears.

“I’m sorry, I heard you on the phone. Thank you for letting us stay.”

---