Page 62 of The World Outside My Window

The silence hummed loudly. ‘Debs?’

‘I’m here. I was just trying to work out why Jim would do that. I would have thought he’d be pleased to know I’m looking out for you when he’s away so much.’

I had no idea either. ‘I’ll talk to him. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything,’ I said. ‘Will you still come round later?’

She paused. ‘Do you promise to stop drinking? Because I don’t want to have to come over and stage a rescue mission.’

‘You have my word.’

21

NOW – 11 OCTOBER 1992

Number nine Willow Crescent

Marjorie and Faye Phillips

Marjorie feels grumpy today, and the only thing that makes her feel better on days like this is biscuits. Just as well Faye has bought some more, she thinks, popping a chocolate Bourbon into her mouth and brushing away the crumbs that have fallen into her lap as she chews. Faye can hoover them up later. She’s a good girl.

‘You’re not eating biscuits right before dinner again, are you, Mum?’ Faye says, her voice making Marjorie jump.

‘Why do you always creep up on me like that? Trying to catch me out all the time?’

Faye sighs. ‘I’m not creeping up on you, you just didn’t hear me. Anyway, if you weren’t doing anything wrong there wouldn’t be anything to catch you out about, would there?’

‘Humph.’ The sound, through biscuits, is muffled and Faye rolls her eyes. Her mother is obviously in a mood again and she has a feeling she knows why.

‘Been watching your soap, Mum?’

Marjorie swallows down a huge lump of chewed biscuit. ‘Might have been. Why?’

‘Because you’re always so moody afterwards. Don’t know why you watch it if it makes you so angry.’

‘Because I love Jim Robinson, that’s why. He’s so dishy.’

‘Dishy! Mum, you are funny.’

‘I am not funny. I’m just saying, he’s worth getting angry for, that’s all. Anyway. That’s not all that’s made me annoyed.’

‘Go on, what else has annoyed you, then?’ Faye suspects she’s going to be blamed somewhere in this.

Her mother sighs dramatically. ‘That blooming boy.’ She nods towards the net curtains as though they’re hiding someone behind it.

‘Which boy?’

‘That Hardwick boy. Always banging that football around as though he’s Gary Linny-thing. It gets right on my nerves.’

‘I think you mean Gary Lineker, Mum.’ Faye squashes down a smile, afraid of making her mother even more tetchy. ‘He’s not doing you any harm though is he?’

‘Notphysicallydear, no. But the noise. It goes right through me, that constant thump, thump, thump, it jangles my bones. Why can’t he take the ball somewhere else, to a park or something, or better still go inside and do something quiet?’

‘He’s all right, Mum, don’t fuss. It could be a lot worse.’

‘Humph.’ It’s a source of constant amusement to Faye that her mother actually does make ahumphsound when she has nothing further to say on a subject, like a closing statement boiled down into one short, grumpy noise. She changes the subject.

‘Do you need anything, Mum? I was thinking of popping to the shop.’

‘What? Oh, you’re going out again?’

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