Hit and Run by Maria Frankland (best book recommendations txt) 📗

who she’s on the phone to. I drop some bread into the toaster.

“Back in a minute. I need to find my watch.” Rob strides past me. He’s got the morning off and he’s going out on his bloody bike. We could have done something together. Of course, he probably thinks my mother is still going to be here. He might think he’s doing us a good turn by giving us some time together.

“Can Granny Maggie pick me up from school as well?” Jack’s expression is a cross between pleading and excited.

“We’ll see.”

“You’ll have to show me where your school is,” Mum breezes into the kitchen and swipes a slice of toast from my plate.

“I’ll come with you,” I say. “Maybe we could go for a coffee afterwards.” I’m feeling a renewed sense of strength. She can’t keep doing what she’s doing to Dad, and I don’t want to keep covering for her. The worry makes me feel ill but I’m going to tell her straight before she sets off. It’s better discussed on neutral ground. She can’t kick off as much in a coffee shop.

“Sorry, no time.” She looks uncomfortable as she checks her watch. “I’m going to take Jack to school and then get on the road.”

“But you only got here last night. Surely you can make time for a coffee?”

“You know I’ve got plans.” She checks her reflection in my mirror on the kitchen windowsill. I always do my eyebrows in here as it’s a good light.

“Mum, we need to talk.”

“It’ll have to wait. I’ve got a long drive in front of me.” She winds a chiffon scarf around her neck. I have the intrusive thought of strangling her with it. “Where’s Rob?”

“Upstairs.”

Jack looks at the clock. “Granny Maggie, it’s after quarter to nine.” He knows all his o’clocks, halves and quarters. “I’ll be late for school if we don’t go now.”

“Come on then.” Mum plucks her jacket from the back of a chair and picks her case up. “I’ll see you when I see you,” she nods towards me. I know she won’t hug me. She never has. She has no problem with grabbing me by the scruff of the neck or threatening to slap me though.

“A couple of weeks then?” I’ve tried to talk to her. I can’t do any more. It would be easier if Dad didn’t insist on ringing landlines first, and mobile numbers as a last resort. Maybe this visit to Devon will be the one where she and Shane will split up. Her affairs are usually short-lived.

“I’ll do my best Fiona. Come on then, Jack. Have you got your things together?” She ruffles his mousy-brown hair as he stands. It’s the same colour as Rob’s. Jack’s like a miniature Rob, with the same blue eyes, olive skin tone and lankiness.

I remember when we had to empty Rob’s dad’s house a couple of years ago. Because it was a council house, they only gave Rob a month. I couldn’t leave him to do it on his own, and his dad’s death had hit him hard. Looking at old photos of Rob was like looking at Jack. They’re as close as Rob was to his dad. At least, they have been until recently.

Rob has become suddenly preoccupied. I’m waiting for him to spill whatever is bothering him. He’s like that. He’ll only brood on things for so long, then his solitude or conscience will get the better of him.

Perhaps, soon, he will let me know why he’s been meeting up with his ex from when he was younger, Bryony. I thought I was seeing things when I saw them leaving a café a fortnight ago. They didn’t look, well, together, but a man meeting his attractive ex-fiancée, without mentioning it to his wife will never bode well.

“Where’s my coat?”

“You don’t need one Jack. It’s cracking the flags out there. What’s his school called, Fiona?” Mum turns to me. “In case he forgets the way or something.”

“The Whartons,” Jack replies. “It’s up the hill. I know the way.”

“Remember what we talked about before,” says Mum, turning back from the kitchen door. “It’s my life. My business. I hope that’s the end of the matter.”

Chapter 3

Rob takes the milk from the fridge. “How long’s she staying?”

“She’s on her way down to Devon today.” I raise my eyes from the counter I’m wiping, knowing he will have something to say.

“One night! You’re joking. She’s still seeing that bloody man, I take it?” He slams the milk onto the counter.

“Rob. Calm down. Yes, she is. I’m not getting involved, and neither are you.”

“But you’re bloody covering for her again?”

“I’ve no choice, have I? You know what it could do to Dad if he found out.” I take two cups from the dishwasher and slide them towards Rob. “Anyway, I’m sure it’ll blow itself out like it did last time. The man’s married. He’ll come to his senses.”

“Your mother can have it away with half of Yorkshire if that’s how she wants to carry on. But without dragging us into it. God, I’ve got enough going on right now?”

“Like what?”

“It doesn’t matter. Really. What bothers me is her making you lie for her. She makes my skin crawl. Making out like she’s mother and granny of the year.”

Things are often up and down between Rob and my mother, but the abruptness of his words makes me bristle. “I couldn’t cope with her here for two weeks, anyway. I wouldn’t want her here. She makes me feel like a child again.”

“You need to get over that Fiona.” Rob swings around to face me. “Get a grip. You’re a grown woman with a son of your own now. Sort some counselling or something. Whatever it takes to stop letting that self-centred woman control you.”

His voice is on the rise. I hate rows. I’ve got to calm this down. He’s every right to be annoyed, but I’m taken aback at how angry he seems to be.

“It’s just a shame she’s not