Page 53 of A Fresh Start at Bramble Cottage
“I bumped into Vicky in town and she gave me a lift back.”
Vicky thanked her silently for skipping the earlier part of the episode.
“She went to university and she told me all about it. It sounds like fun.”
Brenda hadn’t yet recovered. “Well, yes, but . . .”
“I’m going to do modern languages. Vicky says it would give me lots of career options, and most of the courses include a year abroad.” She hefted her backpack out of the boot of the car. “I need to get to class. Could you take this home for me?”
“Okay . . .”
Brenda stood shaking her head in bewilderment as her daughter hugged her and strolled off with a jaunty step across the car park.
Vicky rolled down the car window. “Um... could I give you a lift?” she offered. “That pack looks heavy.”
Brenda hesitated before conceding a wary, “Thank you.” She took Bez’s place in the passenger seat, tucking the pack into the footwell. “And thank you for bringing her home. I don’t know what she was thinking, going off like that.”
Vicky let a small sigh escape her lips. “Um... I think I should tell you the truth. I saw her standing at the bus stop in the rain and offered her a lift into town before I realised what she was planning to do.”
“Oh?”
“So I drove her to the train station.”
“Oh.”
“I didn’t know what else to do. I suppose I should have turned round and brought her straight home...”
“She’d only have run off again.” Brenda’s voice echoed with strained patience. “She’s been threatening to do it for a long time.”
“That’s what I thought. But I think she really has changed her mind. She asked me loads of questions about university, and she seems quite excited about the idea.” She slanted her passenger a swift glance. “For heaven’s sake don’t tell her it’s sensible.”
“Of course it’s sensible. I’ve been trying to drum that into her for months.”
Vicky shook her head. “Look, I don’t want to tell you what to do with your own daughter, but maybe trying to drum stuff into her is having the opposite effect.” Her mouth curved into a smile of wry amusement. “Did it ever work with you at that age?”
Brenda conceded a brief laugh. “Well . . . no.”
Vicky laughed too. “Teenagers — they’re always contrary. She said she didn’t want to let you run her life — I pointed out that doing the opposite of what you wanted was the same thing as letting you run her life.”
Brenda frowned. “That sounds a bit contrary.”
“I suppose it does. But it seemed to do the trick.”
They turned down Church Road, the atmosphere between them much more relaxed.
“What are you planning to do with Molly’s cottage?” Brenda asked. “Are you still going to sell it as a second home?”
“I don’t know. I’d really like to live there, but I’m going to have to find a way to pay the inheritance tax.”
“Could you get a mortgage?”
“Possibly — I’d been thinking about that. The problem is that if I stay, I won’t have a job, and mortgage companies tend not to be too keen on lending under those circumstances. Still...” She pulled up outside Brenda’s shop. “I have a little while before I have to make up my mind.”
“Well... thank you for the lift.” Brenda’s smile was now warm and friendly. “And for talking some sense into my Bethany. It’s more than I could ever do.”
“I’m not sure that it was anything I said. I just hinted at some of the difficulties she might have finding a job and somewhere to stay. She began to realise that the streets of London might not be paved with gold after all. She’s a good kid, and very bright. She’ll do all right. Just go easy on her.”
“I’ll try.”
