Page 7 of Six Steps to Happiness
“And after listening to that little rant, so am I,” Willow said.
Ronnie again looked from one woman to the other, her frustration rising all the more. So what if she’d pulled a few pranks on next door? As far as she was concerned, everyone was making a fuss over nothing. She got up from the table, heading straight for the discarded mixing bowl, and picking up the wooden spoon, frantically stirred the cake mixture like a mad woman. “You’ve no need to be,” she said, her hand working the utensil at double speed. “I assure you. I’m absolutely fine.”
Willow and Bea appeared to exchange a glance before Willow got up from her seat and approached. She took Ronnie’s baking apparatus from her and laid them down on the counter. “Mum, no-one’s saying you’re wrong for wanting revenge.”
“Revenge?” Ronnie replied, as Willow guided her back to the table. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
She and her daughter sat down.
“Don’t you?” Bea asked. “Because in your shoes I bloody would.”
“No. I don’t,” Ronnie said. To be fair to herself, even after the previous night’s events, when PC Shenton had arrived on the scene, revenge had been the last thing on Ronnie’s mind. She caught Willow and Bea sharing another look. They obviously didn’t believe her.
“Then what do you want?” Willow said. “Because from what you’ve been up to, it certainly looks that way.”
Thinking about it, Ronnie had to appreciate where her daughter and mother-in-law were coming from. After all, she had been doing her best to make next door’s life a misery. She just wished Willow and Bea could understand her position in return. Having tried everything else, resorting to mischief hadn’t exactly been a choice; thanks to Nick and Gaye, she’d been left with no alternative. “I want them to move,” Ronnie said. “Leave Holme Lea Avenue to start over somewhere else. Instead of shoving what they’ve done in my face every day.”
“And are your antics working?” Willow asked. “Are they packing their belongings as we speak?”
“Or are they digging their heels in, ready for the long haul?” Bea added.
Ronnie sighed. “God knows what those two are thinking.”
Her daughter reached over and gave Ronnie’s arm a gentle reassuring rub. “You need to start concentrating on your own future, Mum.”
Ronnie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “But that’s what I’m doing.”
“No, love,” Bea said. “You’re not.”
Ronnie looked from one to the other, aghast. Surely they didn’t think she should be the one to up sticks? “I’mnot going anywhere, if that’s what you’re suggesting. This is my home. And I can’t simply sit here and do nothing.”
“No-one expects you to,” Willow said.
“Really? Then whatdoyou expect?” Ronnie felt her irritation continue to grow. After everything Nick and Gaye had done, she couldn’t understand why she was the one being lectured.
“Mum, you were nearly arrested. You can’t possibly expect us to sit idly by while you build up a criminal record. Because that’s where you’re headed if you don’t stop what you’re doing. Having rung the police once, they’ll do it again, and you might not be so lucky next time.”
“Who says there’ll be a next time?”
“You tell us?” Willow asked. “Will there?”
In Ronnie’s opinion, Willow and Bea were talking to the wrong person. Rather than going on at her, they should’ve been round at number eight, telling Nick and Gaye that selling up was the least theycould do after the hurt they’d caused. She wanted to scream that, yes, she planned on harassing them for the rest of her life if that’s what it took. But looking at the troubled expressions coming back at her, she couldn’t say it, she’d clearly caused enough worry. “No,” she replied instead, her voice curt. “There won’t.”
“That’s what they all say,” Bea said. She turned her attention to Willow with a knowing expression. “I told you we should have stepped in sooner.”
Stepped in sooner!Anyone would think Ronnie was some wretched drug addict the way her mother-in-law was jabbering on. An addict in need of saving. Ronnie stared at first Bea and then Willow, her eyebrows raised in disbelief as realisation dawned. “Please don’t tell me this is some sort of intervention.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” her daughter replied.
Ronnie scoffed, they had to be kidding. “So, what’s next? You ship me off to some rehabilitation centre for spurned women?”
“Not exactly,” Willow said.
“What do you mean, not exactly?” Goodness knew what the two of them had in mind.
“When I was about fifteen, I saw this thing on TV.” Willow got up from her seat, collected each of their mugs, and went to put the kettle back on. “Which for some reason, even after all these years, I’ve never forgotten. It was on one of those daytime shows.” She giggled, turning her attention to Bea. “I was meant to be at school but couldn’t be bothered going.”
Ronnie cocked her head, her thought processes momentarily diverted. “Sorry? You skived off school?” That was news to her. “When? Why?”
