Page 12 of One Snowy Day
No matter how many times Alyssa had told her mother that, it still hadn’t sunk in, probably because Dorinda would never understand the relationship between her daughters and her father. Grandad had been the only male presence in their lives, because their dad hadn’t been around. Even now that she was an adult, Alyssa didn’t know the full details, only what she’d gleaned from overhearing stories and the crumbs of information that Dorinda would let slip when she’d had a champagne or two on special occasions. The bottom line was that village life hadn’t been enough for Dorinda, so she’d gone off seeking adventures with a travelling salesman that she’d met at the golf club, but that hadn’t worked out and she’d returned after a few years, when Alyssa and Ginny were toddlers. She’d brought the guy – Alyssa and Ginny’s dad – back with her, but he hadn’t lasted and he’d taken off, never to be seen since. There had been countless other men after that. Alyssa didn’t even want to think about the gossip that must have caused, but she hadn’t realised it when she was a kid, because these things were never discussed. As far as she was concerned, she’d had a perfectly happy childhood, with their gran, Effie, and grandad taking care of them while their mum worked, or socialised, or nipped off to Marbella for a week with a new man. Her grandparents had never judged or complained, and the girls had just assumed all families worked that way. And besides, Grandad was brilliant at helping with their homework and Gran was a great cook, so it was a win-win. Gran had been proud as punch when the café had opened. If she hadn’t passed from pneumonia a couple of years ago, Alyssa knew she’d be here now too, baking up a storm in the kitchen.
But there wasn’t time to linger on that right now, because Dorinda had zeroed in on her daughter’s face. ‘Are you coming down with something? You’re far too pale and your eyes are bloodshot.’
Another zinger of support from her darling mother. On any other day, Alyssa would just shrug it off and it wouldn’t even make a dent in her mood, but not today. Not when her head was still scrambled from the letter she’d opened this morning, saying they wanted to take away her café and her home.
The first thing she’d done was let Ginny read it. Her sister’s initial, jaw-dropping gasp of ‘Fuckers!’ had just about summed it up.
Next, she’d called the lawyer’s office. No answer. She’d called again every five minutes until 9a.m. when someone had finally picked up the phone.
‘Good morning, you’ve reached Huntington Farrell. How may I direct your call?’ Just the sound of the woman’s superior, officious voice had made Alyssa’s teeth clench.
‘Can I speak to…’ She’d scrambled for the letter and then checked the signature at the bottom. ‘Jeremy Sprite.’
A pause.
‘I’m afraid Mr Sprite is in a client meeting all morning. Can I ask what it’s regarding and have him return your call when he’s available?’
‘Yes, my name is Alyssa Canavan. I received a letter from him this morning about the lease on my property.’
‘And the property address is…?’
Alyssa had rhymed it off, then added her phone number, before going on, ‘It’s just that I think the letter must be a mistake. Or maybe not, because there was a clause in my lease that would indicate it isn’t.’ She knew she was rambling, and the woman at the other end of the phone would have no idea what she was talking about, but she didn’t seem to be able to stop speaking. It was probably for the best that the woman cut her off.
‘Miss Canavan, I’ll have Mr Sprite phone you when he’s free.Thank you for your call.’ And with a click, the line had gone dead.
Over at the range, Ginny had been listening the whole time, while stirring a huge vat of minestrone soup into a frenzy. ‘So what do we do now?’
Alyssa wished she had a more productive answer other than, ‘Nothing. We wait. Look, don’t mention it to anyone, especially Grandad. I don’t want to worry him.’
Now that her grandad had come in happy and positive as ever, that sentiment was even firmer. She wasn’t going to mention it to her mother either, not when she was already on the offensive. The last thing Alyssa needed right now was her mother’s input on her disaster. She hadn’t wanted Alyssa to open a café in the village in the first place, extolling the virtues of going out into the ‘big bloody world out there’ and ‘exploring life outside this mind-numbing bubble of boredom’, so this definitely had the potential to ding the bell at the top of her mum’s ‘Told You So’ scale.
Alyssa instinctively picked up a cloth and began to clean the already pristine counter. She had taken so long to answer her mother’s question, she’d almost forgotten what it was. Something about her being pale and ill.
‘No, Mum, I’m fine.’
She didn’t add the more authentic ‘distraught, shocked, terrified, worried and feeling sick to my stomach’. ‘Fine’ would do for now.
‘Well, maybe try a bit of fake tan in the mornings. I’ve got a coconut one that I just spritz on my face after my shower and it works wonders. I’ll give you the name of it and you can pick one up in the chemist. Make you look a bit less peaky.’
Before Alyssa could answer, Ginny came shooting out of the kitchen behind them. Saved by the sister. ‘Team, we have a problem. A huge big fricking problem.’
Noooooo! Alyssa clenched her jaw, and pursed her lips as she made warning eyes at her sister. Yes, they had a huge fricking problem, but hadn’t they agreed not to share it yet?
‘What’s that, dear?’ their mother asked, before turning back to Alyssa. ‘Don’t do that frowny thing, Alyssa, you’ll give yourself wrinkles.’
Alyssa wondered how long she’d have to bang her own head off the temperamental, clapped-out coffee machine before she induced a coma.
‘The buses are off!’ Ginny blurted. ‘And I’ve got my final interview in town in an hour.’ Ginny’s big break – a role as an acting coach at the drama and music school Ollie Chiles had founded for underprivileged kids. She had her heart set on it and had already been for a preliminary audition that focused on her acting and singing talents, but this was the last stage in the process, a meeting with a panel of people who ran it.
True to form, their mum didn’t even attempt to conceal her disinterest in Ginny’s panic. ‘Ah well, I’m sure they’ll understand. This weather is terrible today. You can just rearrange it.’
‘No, I can’t, Mum! If I fall down at the first sign of a challenge, what does that say about me? This job is teaching drama in a theatre school – there are going to be loads of obstacles to overcome. If there are three or four people after this job and I’m the only one that can’t get there, they’ll shred my application.’
Alyssa watched as their mother finally showed a pique of interest, but quickly realised it came from a place of self-interest.
‘Is this the one at the academy that Ollie Chiles set up?’ Mum asked, but didn’t wait for an answer before going on. ‘By the way, I showed his mother a perfect house before she moved here, but she chose to go with a flat down by the river. Terrible choice. Anyway, you should definitely go then, darling, and if you’re speaking to him, you could drop in that the manor house over inBurnbank has just come up for sale and he’d be perfect for it.’ Burnbank was the next village, just a mile or so down the road. ‘Give him my details and I’ll set up a viewing for him. It would be a great long-term investment property and it’s just five minutes from his mother, too.’
Alyssa was torn between relief that Ginny wasn’t spilling her secrets, and the urge to point out that not everyone felt that being in close proximity to their mother was a good thing. She kept her mouth closed.
