Page 54 of Our Secrets and Lies

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Billy tidied up the vegetables, taking out the wilting ones and putting them into a box to bring inside. Lucy would make a soup or magic something else out of them. She was a wonder, that Lucy. She could make a silk purse out of a pig’s ear, that was for sure.

Billy pressed the button to bring down the shutters and soon the shop was in darkness. He went into the kitchen, then closed and lockedthe door that led from the shop into the house. He placed the wilting veg on the kitchen counter and stretched his arms over his head. He caught his reflection in the kitchen window. He’d have to cut back on the chocolate biscuits with his tea. His trousers were definitely a bit tighter. Still, he wasn’t in bad shape for almost sixty-five. Mind you, the long hours in the shop had definitelytaken more out of him lately, but Billy didn’t trust anyone except Lucy to look after it properly. Over the years he’d tried hiring staff, but they were never good enough or they left or they turned up late … It drove him nuts.

‘Why bother paying someone else to do the work when you can do it better yourself?’ he’d always said to Tina, when yet another employee left or was fired.

Tina had wantedhim to take more time off. Relax more, have more holidays. But how could Billy relax if he thought the shop wasn’t being properly run? He was happy to work hard and provide for his family. He wanted the girls to have a good life, a safe and comfortable life. What Billy remembered most about growing up was being hungry. Money wasalways tight, food was always short and every winter the gas wascut off because they couldn’t pay the bill and they’d be cold all the time.

Working hard and keeping on top of things was what made Billy happy, not holidays. He looked at the photo of his wedding day on the shelf above the dishwasher. Tina looked so young, beautiful and healthy. God, he missed her. She was his one true love. She’d died too young. It made him sad to think of her missing the twinsgrowing up. She was crazy about those kids, but she’d never really got to enjoy them. Cancer had robbed her of that, and so much more.

Billy knew he would have sunk into a deep depression and probably taken to the drink if it hadn’t been for Lucy and the babies. She had sat him down one morning after finding him passed out on the couch, bottle of whiskey empty beside him. ‘Dad, this has to stop.Mum’s been gone two months and you have barely eaten, spoken or gone into the shop. Jenny and I can’t do this alone. I’m looking after two small kids, the shop, and trying to keep an eye on Jenny, too. We’re all heartbroken, we lost our mum. But you getting drunk every day and night can’t continue. It’s not healthy for you, or for Jenny and my kids to see. I need you, Dad. Jenny needs you andso do your grandchildren. I know you’re devastated, but Mum would not be a bit pleased to see you like this. In fact, she’d be bloody furious and you know it. I’ve tried to be patient, but I’m drowning under all the responsibility. I need your help. Now get up, shower and be in the shop at eight thirty sharp.’

Billy had stopped drinking whiskey that day. He’d drunk enough in the previous twomonths to fill a boat. From that day onwards he drank only beer, and even that in small amounts. Lucy had saved him from himself.

He’d found comfort in the familiarity of the shop, and working hard was a good distraction from pain. And thetwins, well, they were the light of his life. He hoped poor Kelly would settle into that new school soon – he hated seeing her in bad form and she was quieterthese days, too. Not the usual Kelly, full of chat. She was always in her bedroom now or looking at her phone. Still, he supposed that was what most teenagers were like, always staring at their phones. Even when they came into the shop, they wouldn’t look at you, they’d pay while typing messages with one hand. Billy felt sorry for them. They were like robots. Where had the art of conversationgone?

Lucy was strict about no phones at the table. She was strict about a lot of things. Billy thought she was too hard on Kelly sometimes. She needed to give the girl a bit of freedom or else she’d rebel.

Billy stretched his back. It had been a long and busy day. He needed an evening in the shed. He pulled on his coat and headed out into the cold autumn air.

Within ten minutes Billy was nestledin his chair. The heat was on and Sinatra was crooning ‘I Get A Kick Out Of You’ on his turntable. Billy loved the sound of vinyl. None of this iPod stuff for him. The crackle of the records as they spun was beautiful.

He leant his head back and took a long sip of his cool beer. Bliss.

‘Billy!’ A voice interrupted his reverie.

Who the hell? Billy struggled out of the chair and went to openthe door.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘I need your help,’ Ollie said.

‘With what?’

‘These.’ Ollie held up a mangled pair of glasses.

‘Can you come back tomorrow?’ Billy wanted peace and quiet.

Ollie shuffled about on his feet. ‘I tried to fix them myself, but I think I made them worse. Dad said it doesn’t matter, but I know they cost loads cos he has mad eyes where one sees far away and theother sees close. I feel really bad.’

‘How did it happen?’

Ollie peered behind Billy’s arm. ‘Can I tell you inside?’

Billy sighed. ‘Go on, then.’

Ollie rushed in and Billy closed the door behind them.

‘Oooh, it’s deadly in here.’ Ollie put his hands up to the heater and rubbed them together. ‘Do you have any food?’

Billy pointed to a cupboard in the corner. ‘Biscuits in the tin in there.Help yourself.’

‘Can I have two?’

‘Have one and let’s see if the sugar makes you hyper.’

Ollie pulled a chocolate biscuit out of the tin and bit into it. ‘Sure I’m always hyper. The teachers think I have ADHD, but I was tested for it and I don’t. Mum says I just have a lot of energy and a curious mind. Dad says I’m mad. Shannon says I’m a psycho who should be in a special school.’ He shrugged.‘I don’t know what I am, really. I’m not smart in school like Kelly. I find it hard to listen all day long. I think Dad’s fed up with me. Me wrecking his glasses really pissed – oops, sorry – cheesed him off.’

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