Page 55 of Her Last Walk Home

‘And what would you know about it, Chloe?’

‘Whatever. I’m not getting into a row over this.’

‘Fine by me.’

Chloe leaned down closer to her sister. ‘Instead, I want all the juicy details about this Jackson guy.’

‘Kettle’s boiling.’

‘It’s not.’

‘Will be in a minute.’

‘He’s that good, eh?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘If you don’t want to talk about him, that means you like him. But remember what happened with the last guy and?—’

‘Don’t!’ Katie held up her hand. ‘I’m not going there.’

‘Okay. But I want to know what this Jackson is like. Are you bringing him home to meet Mother?’

‘Are you for real? And the kettleisboiling this time.’

With a sigh, Chloe jumped off the table and set about making the tea. ‘Want another one?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘A word of thanks wouldn’t go amiss in this house.’

‘Thanks, then. I get five minutes’ peace in the day. Leave me alone, will you?’

Chloe stirred the tea bag, then held it against the rim of the mug with the spoon, squeezing it. She needed a strong cup. She hadn’t slept great, and another long shift at the pub loomed. Despite that, Katie worried her. They fought like cat and dog most of the time, but she didn’t like it when her sister became morose. ‘You know you can talk to me if?—’

‘Are you deaf? I said I want a bit of peace.’ Katie jumped up. ‘Jeesssuuuss!’ She dumped her mug in the sink with a clatter and stormed out of the kitchen.

Shivering in the ice-cold room, Chloe wondered if, in this lifetime, they could ever be friends as well as sisters.

The back door opened and Granny Rose struggled in with a bulging shopping bag.

‘Gran! Let me help you. What are you doing here?’

‘That’s a fine welcome. And who are you, young lady?’

‘I’m Chloe,’ she said with a groan, knowing further explanation was necessary. ‘Your granddaughter. I lived with you for a while last year to look after you. Remember?’

‘I don’t need anyone looking after me. I’m capable of minding myself, thank you.’

‘Of course you are. What’s all this, Gran?’ Chloe lifted the bag onto the table and started taking out groceries. A slap on her hand halted her.

‘Leave that alone, missy. They’re mine. Are you stealing from me as well as lying? I’ll report you to Peter.’

Chloe leaned against the table. She’d never known Grandfather Peter. He’d died when her mother was a child. ‘Can I help you with these groceries?’

A shock of confusion flitted across Rose’s face and the elderly lady’s eyes misted over. ‘I’m in the wrong house.’

‘Not really. This is your daughter Lottie’s house.’

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