Page 20 of The One Plus One
He slouched against the kitchen units, peering out into the front garden. In the breeze the clothes dryer whirled around, the pegged cleaning cloths flying out like pennants above the potted geraniums and the bicycle Jess had painted a glittery pink that peeled off like clumps of nail varnish.
‘Shona Bryant was taking the mickey out of Tanzie at the bus stop. Because of her clothes.’
‘What about her clothes?’ Jess turned to Nicky, a can of tinned tomatoes in her hand.
‘Because you make them.’
‘How does she know I make them?’
‘She asked Tanzie where they came from and Tanzie just told her. You know what she’s like.’
‘But she likes what I make. I mean – she’s happy in them.’
‘Shona Bryant’s the one who said our house was weird because we had too many books.’
‘Shona Bryant’s an idiot.’
He leant down to stroke Norman. ‘Oh. And we got a reminder from the electric company.’
Jess let out a small sigh. ‘How much?’
He walked over to the pile of papers on the sideboard and flicked through. ‘Comes to more than two hundred altogether.’
She took out a packet of cereal. ‘I’ll sort it.’
Nicky opened the fridge door. ‘You should sell the car.’
‘I can’t sell it. It’s your dad’s only asset.’
‘But he could be using it to earn money. And then he could pay you some.’
Sometimes Jess wasn’t entirely sure why she kept defending him. ‘There isn’t anywhere safe to keep it at his mum’s. Anyway. He’ll sort it out when he’s back on his feet. Now, go on upstairs. I’ve got someone coming.’ She could see her walking up the back path.
‘We’re buying stuff off Aileen Trent?’ Nicky watched her open the gate and close it carefully behind her.
Jess couldn’t hide the way her cheeks coloured. ‘Just this once.’
He stared at her. ‘You said we had no money.’
‘Look, it’s to take Tanzie’s mind off the school thing when I have to tell her.’ Jess had made her decision on the way home. The whole idea was ridiculous. They could barely keep their heads above water as it was. There was no point even trying to entertain it.
He kept staring at her. ‘But Aileen Trent. You said –’
‘And you’re the one who just told me Tanzie was getting bullied because of her clothes. Sometimes, Nicky…’ Jess threw her hands into the air. ‘Sometimes the ends justify the means.’
Nicky’s look lasted longer than she felt entirely comfortable with. And then he went upstairs.
‘So I’ve brought a lovely selection of things for the discerning young lady. You know they all love their designer labels. I took the liberty of bringing a few extra bits, even though you said you weren’t interested.’
Aileen’s ‘shop’ voice was formal, with overly precise diction. It was quite odd, emerging as it did, from someone Jess had seen regularly ejected by force from the King’s Arms. She sat cross-legged on the floor and reached into her black holdall, pulling out a selection of clothes and laying them carefully on the carpet, co-ordinating separates in layers.
‘There’s a Hollister top here. They’re all into Hollister, the girls. Shocking expensive in the shops. I’ve got some more designer stuff in my other bag, although you did say you didn’t require high-end. Oh, and two sugars, if you’re making one.’
Aileen did a weekly round of this end of the estate, her skin waxy, her big black holdall on wheels trundling behind her. She was as much a local fixture as the postman, and as regular. ‘You’ve got to be professional to thrive in business,’ she would observe sagely, pale eyes blinking slowly within her spectral face.
Jess had always issued a firm thanks-but-no-thanks. Nobody on the estate ever talked about where Aileen got her bargains, her knock-down prices with the tags still on, but everyone knew. Jess always told Marty she didn’t like the example it set the kids.
But that was before.
