had seen enough of Tanya and her slumped posture, nervous hair flicking and nail biting to see that she didn’t really know either.
‘You need to talk to her, Tanya. It’ll all come out in the wash, you’ll see. That’s one thing I can tell you about Kate and Tash: they only have your best interests at heart, love. I see how they worry and how they discuss the best way to help everyone that stays here. They’re good people.’
Tanya shrugged with indifference and simultaneously curled her top lip to show aggression and dislike in two simple moves. This was in fact the exact opposite of how she was feeling. She wanted to sob, to apologise, to lie wrapped in the soft pink lambswool blanket with her head on a cushion in front of the fire. She wanted to be told that she could stay for ever and ever.
‘Whatever.’
She wasn’t even sure who the bravado was intended for any more; it was a habit that she didn’t know how to break.
‘So is that a yes for pancakes or a no?’
Tanya cracked a smile in spite of her best efforts. Her tummy groaned as she inhaled the buttery, vanilla scent of the batter that wafted from the hot pan.
‘Well, as you’re making…’
It was a beautiful, clear Cornish day in the early flush of summer; one of those days when weather and mankind conspire to make a golden day of perfect memories. The sun was hot against bare skin, the sky bright blue with the merest wisp of cloud, as if painted by an artist’s brush stroke. The air was warm with a gentle breeze that lifted the flower heads just enough to show off their true beauty. Toddlers dozed in pushchairs, couples held hands and strangers smiled, each playing their part.
Kate mooched around the harbour, taking time with her chores and enjoying the moment. Every time she closed her eyes, one of Lydia’s paintings came into focus. She felt closer to her somehow. Seeing her daughter’s work had been like peeking into her diary, offering wonderful insights into her darling girl’s mind. She was so glad that she had gone to Bristol, despite her initial worries. Kate also had to acknowledge the tiniest hint of disappointment. Deep down she had secretly hoped to catch a glimpse of her daughter; it had been difficult not to envisage a full-blown running-with-arms-wide reunion.
She wondered how Stacey was getting on at home and hoped that she would simply come back to Penmarin, collect the rest of her things and return to her mum and brother. As much as she would miss her, Kate knew that was where she belonged; it was the best thing for her long term.
The previous night’s showdown with Tanya weighed on her mind. She would call Janeece and get some advice. Drug use and addiction were Janeece’s specialisation, although where Tanya was concerned, Kate suspected it was more a recreational habit born out of boredom than an addiction. She needed to occupy her more: maybe a job in the village, the pub? No, not the pub, silly thought. Bloody Rodney Morris; even the thought of him brought a fresh wave of anger.
She would give it some thought and they would find a way through, whatever happened. Kate loved Tanya’s spirit, even if her energy was a little misdirected at times. In the cold, bright light of day Kate laughed to herself at the detailed description Tanya had given her of the small bag of drugs. Cheeky girl. She’d go back and talk to her now, so that they could all return to calm waters and move forward. Kate inhaled the fresh sea air. Life felt good.
Tanya locked her bedroom door, turning the heavy key until the satisfying clunk told her it was safe to proceed. In her bathroom she removed her purchase from the white plastic bag. She unwound the thin strip of coloured cellophane, then peeled the wrapper off the rectangular box. With her jeans and pants bundled around her ankles like a nest, Tanya gave little thought to the task in hand. By mentally transporting herself somewhere else entirely, she could pretend for a little while longer.
Job done, Tanya washed her hands meticulously, taking care to scrape under her nails and lather between her fingers. She patted her palms dry on the thick white towel and then, as she always did, inhaled the fresh scent that the liquid soap left on her skin. She breathed deeply, intoxicated by the floral