‘And who’s supervising?’ said Ade.
‘His parents. God! It’s like you don’t trust me.’
‘It’s not you we don’t trust,’ Janet said, ‘but we’ve been there, we know what can happen. People drink too much and take stupid risks or they do daft things and end up regretting it.’
‘Please?’ Elise said, her voice aching with frustration.
We should trust her, Janet thought. It’s the only way she’ll learn. She nodded at Ade, who gave a shrug of resignation.
‘All right then but a taxi back by one, promise?’ Janet said.
‘Yes!’ Elise began texting on her phone. ‘Thank you so much.’ Suddenly sounding far too young for what they had just agreed to.
Sean was hunched over his laptop, the sports channel on the box, men in shorts running around on grass on both screens and the smell of fried onions thick in the flat. Rachel lit up and, as an afterthought, opened the window.
‘Chill Factor,’ he said, ‘Saturday, or maybe Sunday. Could do WaterWorld an’ all maybe. Stay over somewhere.’
‘What?’ She’d had too many fags today, the first drag failed to deliver the kick she craved. Instead it just made her mouth feel rancid.
‘You, me and Haydn,’ he said, ‘skiing or snowboarding? He’s here this weekend.’
Oh, joy. Rachel had nothing against the kid, he was harmless enough. A mini Sean, interested in anything that involved balls or sticks. Or food. ‘No can do,’ she said. ‘We picked one up, man in that fire in Manorclough.’
‘That yours?’ he said.
‘Yeah.’
‘I’d better book for two then, unless you want to wait until another time.’
The thought that Sean was worried she might be disappointed at missing out on the trip was both touching and plain daft. ‘You go ahead,’ she said. Relieved that she had a rock-solid reason not to be around for more than a few hours’ kip over the weekend. Sean and Haydn could do their male bonding, father-son stuff and welcome to it. She didn’t want to intrude, or maybe she just felt ill-equipped.
Had her dad ever taken Dom anywhere? Doubtful. Not like her dad would be much use at entertaining the kids. Could barely feed and clothe them. It was Rachel who dragged Dom off to the cinema on the rare occasions when special vouchers meant they could afford it, Rachel who would cheer him on when he played football. Her mum gone by then, Dad taken up residence in the pub to all intents and purposes and her sister Alison working all hours as the sole breadwinner.
Her dad had gone now, as in dead. Ashes blowing in the wind. His liver finally packed up. It had been two weeks before the smell alerted his fellow residents at the doss house to his demise. And now her mum was back.