Page 15 of A Class Act

‘Tell me.’ I took my mug of liquorice tea and settled back on the bed. Our chats could go on for hours.

‘The usual.’ I heard Jess sigh. ‘I’m having to spend a lot of time trying to sort Sorrel. Mum just can’t handle her.’

‘Has Mum been called into school again?’

‘Worse. Sorrel’s been excluded once more.’

‘How long for this time?’

‘A week. And after that it’s half-term, so she’s going to be driving Mum to distraction not knowing where she is, what she’s up to. Apparently, she totally disrupts every class – apart from dance and drama, which she loves – and the new head at the comp is on a mission: zero tolerance. You know the sort of thing – the kids having to ask if they want to take off their school jumper; no trainers, no phones…’

‘I should think not. In class? Take her phone off her. That’ll stop her.’

‘I doubt it. Knowing Sorrel, she might go and nick one. I don’t suppose you could have her down to stay with you for a few days? Give Mum a break?’

‘Not really, Jess. I’ve a single bed in a tiny room and I’m out working all the time. I can’t leave a fifteen-year-old girl to her own devices in the middle of Soho.’

‘No, I get that.’ Silence for a while. ‘Mind you, I bet you’re relieved the Soho Slasher’s been caught. It’s in all the papers.’

‘Look, I’ll try and get up for a few days… How is Mum?’

‘Not wonderful. Jayden’s not been in touch for a while now. She tries to get on with her life, but she’s low.’

‘Is she taking her medication? Seeing the doctor?’

‘Robyn, you know what it’s like. Someone like Mum, living with long-term physical health problems, doesn’t always get the proper help or treatment they need. I just have to do what I can for her on a daily basis.’

‘I’m so sorry, Jess. I know you’re having to shoulder it all. How’s Dean?’

‘Oh, you know,’ she said once more, obviously not wanting to go into details.

‘Jess,tellme.’

‘He’s got another woman.’

‘Again?’ Jess’s husband and father of Lola, my gorgeous ten-year-old niece, was a waste of space. In my eyes, anyway. ‘Get rid of him, Jess. You’re a strong, independent woman with a career.’

Jess laughed out loud at that. ‘You call working shifts in a care home a career?’

‘What about the outside catering job you had? Working for Home Dining? You loved that, cooking all day.’

‘Robyn,’ she said crossly, ‘the place folded during lockdown.’

‘Yes, I know, Idoknow that, but what’s happened to your dream of running your own catering company? Weddings and christenings and such? You’ve got all your health and food hygiene certificates.’

‘D’you know how much it is to evenrenta place to do that? And all the catering equipment I’d need? It’s just a dream, Robyn.’

‘Get yourself onMasterChef. You’d win, hands down, and then everyone would pay you lots to cook their dinner for them.’

A snort of derision came down the phone.

‘Or you could at least get a job with another outside caterer. They must be crying out for people like you who love and are brilliant at cooking.’ My heart gave a little lurch as I recalled Fabian’s expertise with his quiche and ice cream, not to mention his kissing.

‘I know, I know, and I will, but at the moment I need the job I have to pay the rent and feed and clothe Lola. And I’ve enough on, keeping an eye on Mum – and now Sorrel – without taking on catering jobs when I might not actually get there to cook and serve the stuff.’ She laughed. ‘The bloody van’s got something wrong with it again.’

‘Dean’s a mechanic, for heaven’s sake. Gethimto fix it.’

‘He’s too busy fixing himself up with the new barmaid at The Green Dragon.’

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