The comment was like a slap in the face. ‘I don’t want to live off your father. I’d rather be independent.’ Which was just as well, Jenna thought bleakly, given Clive’s reluctance to part with any money for his daughter. ‘Up here there are no travel costs, you can go to the local school, and they give me a cottage with the job.’
That was the best part. A cottage. Somewhere that was their own. She wasn’t going to wake up one morning and find it had been taken away from them.
‘How can you be so calm and civilised about all this?’ Lexi looked at her in exasperation. ‘You should be angry. I tell you now, if a man ever treats me the way Dad treated you I’ll punch his teeth down his throat and then I’ll take a knife to his—’
‘Lexi!’
‘Well, I would!’
Jenna took a slow deep breath. ‘Of course I’ve felt angry. And upset. But what’s happened has happened, and we have to get on with it.’ Step by step. Day by day.
‘So Dad’s left living in luxury with his new woman and we’re exiled to a remote island that doesn’t even have electricity? Great.’
‘Glenmore is a wonderful place. Keep an open mind. I loved it when I was your age and I came with my grandparents.’
‘People choose to come here?’ Lexi glared at the rocky shore, as if hoping to scare the island into vanishing. ‘Is this seriously where you came on holiday? That’s totally tragic. You should have sued them for cruelty.’
‘I loved it. It was a proper holiday. The sort where we spent time together—’ Memories swamped her and suddenly Jenna was a child again, excited at the prospect of a holiday with her grandparents. Here—and perhaps only here—she’d felt loved and accepted for who she was. ‘We used to make sandcastles and hunt for shells on the beach—’
‘Wow. I’m surprised you didn’t die of excitement.’
Faced with the sting of teenage sarcasm, Jenna blinked. Suddenly she wished she were a child again, with no worries. No one depending on her. Oh, for crying out loud—she pushed her hair away from her eyes and reminded herself that she was thirty-three, not twelve. ‘It is exciting here. Lexi, this island was occupied by Celts and Vikings—it’s full of history. There’s an archaeological dig going on this summer and they had a small number of places for interested teenagers. I’ve booked you on it.’
‘You what?’ Appalled, Lexi lost her look of martyred boredom and shot upright in full defensive mode. ‘I am not an interested teenager so you can count me out!’
‘Try it, Lexi,’ Jenna urged, wondering with a lurch of horror what she was going to do if Lexi refused to co-operate. ‘You used to love history when you were younger, and—’
‘I’m not a kid any more, Mum! This is my summer holiday. I’m supposed to have a rest from school. I don’t want to be taught history!’
Forcing herself to stay calm, Jenna took a slow, deep breath; one of the many she’d taken since her daughter had morphed from sweet child to scary teen. When you read the pregnancy books, why didn’t it warn you that the pain of being a mother didn’t end with labour?
Across the ferry she caught sight of a family, gathered together by the rail. Mother, father, two children—they were laughing and talking, and Jenna looked away quickly because she’d discovered that nothing was more painful than being around happy families when your own was in trouble.
Swallowing hard, she reminded herself that not every modern family had perfect symmetry. Single-parent families, stepfamilies—they came in different shapes. Yes, her family had been broken, but breakages could be mended. They might heal in a different shape, but they could still be sturdy.
‘I thought maybe we could go fishing.’ It was up to her to be the glue. It was up to her to knit her family together again in a new shape. ‘There’s nothing quite like eating a fish you’ve caught yourself.’
Lexi rolled her eyes and exhaled dramatically. ‘Call me boring, but gutting a fish with my mother is so not my idea of fun. Stop trying so hard, Mum. Just admit that the situation is crap.’
‘Don’t swear, Alexandra.’
‘Why not? Grandma isn’t around to hear and it is crap. If you want my honest opinion, I hope Dad and his shiny new girlfriend drown in their stupid hot tub.’
Relieved that no one was standing near them, Jenna rubbed her fingers over her forehead, reminding herself that this was not the time to get into an argument. ‘Let’s talk about us for a moment, not Dad. There are six weeks of summer holiday left before term starts. I’m going to be working, and I’m not leaving you on your own all day. That’s why I thought archaeology camp would be fun.’
‘About as much fun as pulling my toenails out one by one. I don’t need a babysitter. I’m fifteen.’
And you’re still a child, Jenna thought wistfully. Underneath that moody, sullen exterior lurked a terrified girl. And she knew all about being terrified, because she was too. She felt like a plant that had been growing happily in one spot for years, only to be dug up and tossed on the compost heap. The only difference between her and Lexi was that she had to hide it. She was the grown-up. She had to look confident and in control.
Not terrified, insecure and needy.
Now that it was just the two of them, Lexi needed her to be strong. But the truth was she didn’t feel strong. When she was lying in bed staring into the darkness she had moments of utter panic, wondering whether she could actually do this on her own. Had she been crazy to move so far away? Should she have gone and stayed with her parents? At least that would have eased the financial pressure, and her mother would have been able to watch out for Lexi while she worked. Imagining her mother’s tight-lipped disapproval, Jenna shuddered. There were two sins her mother couldn’t forgive and she’d committed both of them. No, they were better on their own.
Anger? Oh, yes, she felt anger. Not just for herself, but for Lexi. What had happened to the man who had cradled his daughter when she’d cried and spent weeks choosing exactly the right dolls’ house? Jenna grabbed hold of the anger and held it tightly, knowing that it was much easier to live with than misery. Anger drove her forward. Misery left her inert.
She needed anger if she was going to make this work. And she was going to make it work.
She had to.