Page 7 of Lessons in Life

Jess nodded. ‘She’s been with me most of the afternoon. I actually left her there, chatting away to the old men. They took one look at her and were like bees round a honeypot. We forget – or at least I do sometimes when I just see her as our mum – what a stunning-looking woman she is. You know, with her gardening gloves on, or when she’s not been too well and having to rest on the sofa, I forget how gorgeous she is. She was having a great time; says she wants to come up on a regular basis. Give her some confidence about applying for some part-time work.’

‘Really? Oh, well, that’s good. She was so much happier when she had that little job in the gift shop and café in the village. I’ve never understood why she hasn’t done the degree course she’s always wanted to do. She did get her A levels, although she never told us she had until recently. For some reason she’s always liked us to believe she’d run off with Jayden at sixteen or seventeen rather than waiting until the minute she’d done her A levels.’

‘You know why,’ Jess said mildly. ‘Didn’t want us delving into that posh public school she went to. Didn’t want us to find out more about those adoptive parents of hers. And she was never able to enrol on any degree course as a mature student for the same reason she couldn’t commit to other things she wanted to do. She’s always been so aware of the bloody awful condition she inherited.’

‘Suppose.’ I looked round for the tin that was always full of Jess’s home-made biscuits.

‘So?’ Jess stopped what she was doing, turning her full attention on me.

‘So?’

‘The disconcerting thing, apart from this friend of Sorrel’s being set upon?’

‘St Mede’s is in danger of being closed down.’

‘It’s always had a stay of execution over its head, has that place. It was on the point of either falling down, or being closed down, when we were kids at Beddingfield Comp. You know, when the St Mede’s lot would ambush us on the school bus?’

I nodded, remembering. We’d always been up for a tussle with the rival school in the next village.

‘And, anyway, why’s that of concern toyou?’ Jess asked, giving me one of her looks. ‘You hated the place when you started there in September. I thought you’d be out of there as soon as you could? Heading back to London with Fabian?’

I was beginning to realise that although she’d now met Fabian and said she approved of him, Jess seemed unable to talk about him without some little derogatory dig, without an air of slight disparagement. I knew it was probably only Jess in full-on protective mode, but also knew it had been a major coup when Jess had beaten him into third place just before Christmas, when they’d both got into the finals of the Yorkshire Christmas TopChef competition.

‘Possibly.’ I nodded. ‘You’re right. If Fabian heads back south, I’ll be going with him.’

‘So, you’re thinking of packing up and leaving us all again, are you?’ Despite Jess’s apparent flippant comments re my returning to London, I knew she’d hate me leaving Beddingfield again. Especially as Sorrel would possibly be on the point of leaving too.

‘I hate only seeing Fabian for snatched weekends,’ I said. I was already missing him, felt depressed at the thought of my lonely single bed next door at Mum’s place. On the couple of occasions he’d stayed over with me at Mum’s cottage, we’d had to bunk down together in the single bed. We’d both been uneasy, embarrassed even, at finding ourselves having to revert to the status of teenagers, knowing Mum was in her room across the landing and Sorrel able to hear any cries of passion through the thin wall separating her bedroom from the tiny box room we were in. To be fair, Mum had offered up her bed, but I’d no intention of turfing her out. As a result, as soon as Christmas was over (both Fabian and his sister, Jemima, had dutifully returned to the bosom of the Carrington family for the festive season) I’d gone to stay with Fabian in Harrogate but, with a new term about to start, that was no longer possible.

It really was time to move on.

‘Actually,’ Jess was now saying, ‘you’re not the only one to have had some disconcerting news today.’

‘Oh? What’s up? You pregnant?’ I laughed in Jess’s direction at the very idea.

‘Yes.’

‘What?’ My head shot up in shock. ‘You and Dr Matt are having a baby?’ A little part of me felt a flicker of envy. Why, I’d no idea. I wasn’t yet thirty and the last thing I wanted was a baby.

‘No, of course not, you moron.’ Jess was grinning. ‘There’s a rumour going round the staff that the Richardsons, who own Hudson House, are ready to sell up.’

‘Oh?’ I stared. ‘What do you mean?’

‘What d’youthinkI mean? John and Ruth Richardson have had enough and want out. Mind you, they’ve not said a word to me about it so probably just a rumour. You know, tittle tattle and gossip are rife in care homes.’

‘As in any institution,’ I said. ‘So as a going concern?’

‘Well, yes, I suppose so. I hope so anyway. Otherwise, that’s my job and everyone else’s at Hudson House up the swanny. I heard Bex, one of the staff, talking. She clammed up when she knew I was behind her so I had a word with Brenda in the kitchen – she’s always my grass – who tells me everything that’s going on. Someone called Kamran Sattar apparently.’

‘One of the Sattar brothers?’

‘Never heard of the Sattar brothers. Should I have? Are they famous?’ Jess asked.

‘Frozen? The Sattar brothers who own the frozen-food factory on Willow Lane where you worked at one point? Of course you’ve heard of them!’

‘Oh,them?’ Jess, about to turn on her Kenwood to whisk egg whites, stopped in her tracks. ‘Blimey, are they taking over the whole village?’

‘Well, apparently, they’re after St Mede’s,’ I said. ‘Want the place pulled down so they can buy the land from the council and expand Frozen. The council will think all their Christmases have come at once. A good price for the site, a surfeit of new jobs for those who want them and, best of all, the closing down of the local education authority’s biggest headache.’

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