asked first. She has become more selfish, she knows, since living on her own with the kids. She is used to having everything done her way, is used to her stuff being her own (or at least was, before Tory turned thirteen and decided that what was her mother’s was also hers).
And so what if Annabel didn’t ask to use the computer? This is her sister, for God’s sake.
In the kitchen she is momentarily dismayed to see a dirty dish and three dirty mugs piled haphazardly by the side of the sink. She sighs. She will have to tell Annabel that she has to clear up, and clean up, after herself. There are rules in this house, and she has to abide by them.
“Hi!” Annabel bounds into the room and gives Kit a huge hug, and everything is instantly forgiven. “How was work? ”
“It was good,” Kit says. “What did you do today? ”
“I made us supper,” Annabel says. “Fish pie.”
“You did? ”
“Look!” Annabel opens the oven to reveal a golden, cheese and potato-crusted pie bubbling away. “I thought it was time someone looked after you.”
“This is so nice! ” Kit beams. “I feel like I’m coming home to a wife.”
“Wife, sister. I don’t mind which it is. It’s just lovely to be here, and to be part of your family. Speaking of which, I still don’t understand why you let that handsome husband of yours go.”
“Adam? Handsome? ” Kit laughs.
“Well, okay, so he’s not my type, but he is obviously a good guy. And you seem, I don’t know, right together. There’s still unresolved business, I think. Would you try again? ”
Kit shakes her head sadly. “I’ve thought about it, from time to time, but it would feel like going backward. Anyway, see those gorgeous flowers over there? ”
“Oh wow! Those are gorgeous.”
“Yes, well, they’re from Steve, who you might meet on Thursday. I need to keep moving forward, not turn back to the past. And I wanted to ask you: is it okay if I have the house to myself on Thursday? ”
“Oh . . . sure. I can go to the movies or something.”
“You could go out with Edie, maybe? Or Charlie? I’m just planning a date here.”
“Aha! ” Annabel grins. “In that case, of course I’ll make myself scarce. You deserve it.”
“Thank you.” Kit lays a hand on her arm. “I knew you’d understand.”
Chapter Eighteen
Tracy peers at her eye in the mirror and sighs, opening her makeup drawer and digging out the Dermablend.
She had iced her eye, slathered arnica on it, but it has been difficult to hide the discoloration, although by now you would think she had had enough practice at hiding the bumps and bruises.
When she was a little girl, she dreamed of a knight in shining armor, her Prince Charming who would carry her off and rescue her from her nightmarish family. She always knew that she would do better, that she would never put up with what her mother put up with, that if anyone ever treated her the way her dad treated her mother, she would leave.
“Why don’t you divorce him? ” she used to hiss at her mother, as her mother tiptoed round the house, telling Tracy to ignore him, to stay out of the way, making sure everything was perfect before her father came back from one of his business trips, terrified to give him any excuse, any reason to lose his temper.
“He said he wouldn’t do it again,” her mother would say; but then he would, and she would ice her own face, wiping the tears, telling Tracy that she would leave, they would run away together . . . And her father would come back later, arms filled with flowers, contrite, desperate, falling on his knees in floods of tears, swearing he would never raise a hand to her again, and they would stay. And on it went.
She never dreamed she would end up where her mother was. Too frightened to leave, too frightened to stay. She thought when she married Richard Stonehill that it was finally over, and when she thinks that she was the one who Facebooked Jed, she was the one who went back, she almost vomits.
Jed has a plan. Tracy is part of that plan. And right now she’s trying to figure out a way to continue with the plan, but without him. It will take time to think of just the right way to get rid of him, but this time she