Page 25 of Sanctuary at MacLeod's Cove
‘You can’t go on ignoring this stuff, whatever it is, that’s happening with the house, Mum. You need to deal with it.’
‘I am dealing with it as best I can. But how I’m expected to grapple with a problem that goes back nearly a century is beyond me.’
‘What? What do you mean it goes back a century?’
‘But what concerns me most,’ continued Kate, ignoring Jen’s question, ‘is that I don’t see you dealing with the possibility that your husband will turn up and take you and Liam away with him.’
‘I won’t go with Alistair. And if he wants Liam, I’ll fight him in the courts.’
‘He doesn’t sound like the kind of man who will take the legal route, if you get my drift. What if he simply comes here and takes him?’
Jen opened her mouth to speak, but no words emerged. Her thoughts were frozen by the horrific picture her mother had created in her mind. She shook her head and looked down at the table.
‘I’ll talk to Henry down the road about security cameras and lights,’ said Kate.
Jen looked up, horrified. ‘I can’t transform MacLeod’s Cottage into a fortress.’
‘Jenny, you have no choice. You have to face what’s coming. Now,’ she checked her watch, ‘I suggest you get going to the café. You don’t want to be late on your first day.’
‘But are you sure you’re going to be alright here with Liam all morning?’ asked Jen.
‘Jenny, please. If you keep on asking that, you’ll frighten Liam.’ Her mother heaved a sigh. ‘He’s fine. I’m fine. And together we’ll be absolutely fine. You’re working a four-hour shift, washing up to help your sister out while her dishwasher is on the blink. Nothing untoward is going to happen in those four hours. Neither with us, nor with you. Just go.’
‘OK.’
And she knew her mother was right. But why didn’t it feel right?
She glanced out at the garden where Liam was kneeling, gazing intently at newly sprouted seedlings, checking for snails.
Yes, she was one hundred per cent sure that Liam would be fine with her mother. Truth was, she wasn’t so sure that nothing would happen to her. She only hoped she got to stay in the kitchen. That way, she wouldn’t be bumping into anyone who could ask questions about her past she really didn’t want to answer. She banished the image of Sam as quickly as he came to mind.
‘Right,’ she said. ‘Bye then, Mum.’ She grabbed her backpack and went outside to say goodbye to Liam for one last time. Not that he noticed. He was too intent on inspecting a snail.
It was only after she’d retrieved her bike from the shed and had pedalled off that she realised her mother hadn’t answered her question about the house. Trust her mother to have a meeting to sort them all out, only to miss herself out of the exercise. But if she and Liam could face up to what was coming to them, then so could her mother.
A few minutes later, and an ominous repetitive thud made her stop. She’d got a flat tyre. Not surprising, seeing as the bike was so old. She pushed it the rest of the way. Karma, she thought. She’d always thought her mother had eyes in the back of her head.
‘You’re late!’ said Lucy, tossing Jen an apron.
Jen grimaced. ‘Sorry. Flat tyre.’
‘Oh, I’m only kidding. A few minutes don’t matter here or there. Come on through, and I’ll introduce you to everyone.’ She pointed to a cupboard in the small office. ‘Put your bag in there.’ Jen glanced at her younger sister, who was clearly in charge, and did as she was told, even though it felt strange. Jen was used to being the bossy one growing up. Now the tables had turned. ‘That’s Marcus.’ A tall, curly-haired man in his mid-twenties standing by the hot stove, held his spatula aloft, and grinned. Good-natured, laid-back vibes emanated from him. ‘Marcus, this is Jen, my big sister, who’s going to help us out this morning.’
‘Less of the big, Lucy,’ said Jen with a smile. ‘Hi, Marcus, good to meet you.’
‘And that’s Amity, and that’s Kaydee—our servers.’
Jen exchanged greetings with the two young women. One with short, spiky hair dyed pink, and the other with the rose-tinted flowing tresses of a Botticelli. ‘They’re twins,’ added Lucy. Jen raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. ‘Now you know everyone, let’s get on.’
Lucy led her to a double Butler sink. Both looked original to the building. At least the taps weren’t the small brass dinky taps, which were of the same era. Lucy had had the kitchen done up like the rest of the place but had retained its charm—so long as that charm was also functional.
Jen looked at the pile of dirty dishes and felt a sinking in her heart. She was really grateful to Lucy for giving her a job and a reason to get out of the house, but she couldn’t help comparing doing the dishes to her book launch a year earlier. It had been attended by everyone who mattered in the industry, and some that didn’t. Like Alistair. He hadn’t allowed her to stay long.
At that moment, Amity dumped another pile of dirty crockery and pulled a face. ‘Sorry.’
‘No problem,’ said Jen, tying the apron firmly before switching the mixer tap on and reaching for the detergent. ‘No problem at all,’ she murmured to herself. At least here she was among good people, and she was free to be herself.
Four hours later and the flow of dirty crockery had dwindled to a trickle. Despite the rubber gloves, Jen’s hands knew they’d been dunked in very hot water for hours. And her back and legs were acutely aware she’d been on her feet the whole time, except for an occasional break.
