The Skeleton Tree by Diane Janes (reading women TXT) 📕

spoke every evening that second week. Bruce made it his habit to ring just after six, which not only took advantage of the cheaper call rate, but also enabled him to speak to the children before anyone needed to think about going to bed. On Thursday he explained that he had decided not to attempt the drive home next day, as there were overseas clients expected and he might need to work late.

‘After last week I’ve realized that it just doesn’t work – driving up on Saturday and having to be back on Sunday – so I’m not going to attempt it. I’ll be owed some time, so I can probably get off at lunchtime next Friday and that way we can make a full weekend of it.’

‘Of course,’ Wendy said, burying her disappointment. ‘You’re right. It’s silly to drive all that way, just for a few hours.’

It’s going to be different, she promised herself, next time Bruce comes home.

And it was. The candlelit dinner, the love-making, followed by a day dodging the rain in Middlesbrough, the whole family dashing from shop to shop, laughing too much, like one of those glossy, too-good-to-be-true families in a TV advert, Bruce spoiling the children, spoiling her. It was as if a page had turned, transporting them into a completely new story. The entire weekend was an orgy of friendliness and cooperation, during which Bruce made no reference at all to the sale of The Ashes, and the pile of brochures and pamphlets promoting new-builds in Leicestershire lay gathering dust on the desk in the study where Wendy had tidied them away during the week.

This new spirit of affability and compromise barely survived Bruce’s next call home. The new wave which rocked the paper boat was generated by the approach of the Easter holidays. Bruce’s parents had invited the whole family to come down, representing it as another opportunity to do some house-hunting, but as soon as she got wind of the plan, Tara protested that she wanted to stay at home and revise for her A-levels.

‘I think I should stay too,’ Wendy informed Bruce the next time they spoke. ‘In fact, maybe we should all stay here. You could come home for the Easter weekend.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. Tara crying off for revision is one thing, but it hardly creates an excuse for the whole family.’

‘I’m not happy about her being here on her own.’

‘If Tara says she doesn’t mind, then I don’t see your problem. She’s perfectly capable of feeding herself for a few days, and I don’t suppose she’ll burn the house down or organize any wild parties while you’re away,’ said Bruce. ‘She has her faults, but she’s always been conscientious about schoolwork.’

‘It’s all very well her saying she doesn’t mind. If you ask me, she’s suspiciously keen on the idea. And it isn’t wild parties that worry me. I’m sure she’s still seeing that John boy.’

‘I don’t know why you’re being so prudish. If she and that lad want to sleep together they’ll have found a way by now. She’ll be at university in another few months anyway.’

‘Well, I’m not leaving her here on her own.’

‘In that case I’ll have to come and fetch Katie and Jamie and leave you up there. The kids have been looking forward to coming down, and Mum and Dad are looking forward to seeing them. Mum can’t wait for us to move down here and have her grandchildren on the doorstep. We’ll never be short of babysitters, even when Tara’s gone to university.’

‘But the holidays are an opportunity for us all to be together. You know we never feel comfortable sleeping in that room next door to your parents. The walls are paper thin in that house. If you were at home, we could let ourselves go a bit. It isn’t as if we get enough … time together now. That first weekend you came home was a complete washout.’

‘And whose fault is that? Mine, I suppose,’ Bruce said bitterly. ‘Can I help it if I’m tired? I didn’t realize I was expected to perform to order. Fulfilment of stud duties as well as everything else. It puts a strain on a relationship you know, living apart.’

‘It wasn’t my idea to move to Leicester.’

‘It still isn’t your idea to move to Leicester, is it? You’re quite happy staying up there.’

‘Oh, Bruce! That’s not fair!’

‘Well, I don’t see you jumping at the chance to look for a new place. How are we going to continue with the house-hunting at Easter if I’m down here and you’re up there?’

‘This isn’t about that. It’s about not leaving Tara on her own.’

‘Whatever you say.’

‘We still haven’t found a buyer for The Ashes. There haven’t been any viewings at all these last ten days.’

‘Hardly surprising. Interest rates are high and there’s a limited market for places like The Ashes. Maybe you should have thought about things like that before you railroaded us into buying it in the first place.’

‘Your mother won’t mind me not coming.’ Wendy changed tack abruptly. ‘She’s never pretended to like me.’

‘That’s all in your imagination.’

‘No, it isn’t. Your mother has never got over the fact that I’d been married before we met. Nor my accent. Every time the kids call me Mam, she makes a point of referring to me as “Mummy”. Your mother plays spiteful little games like that all the time.’

‘Don’t be silly.’

‘Oh, come on, Bruce. You know the tricks as well as I do. She’s forever talking about people you know and I don’t as a way to exclude me from the conversation. She even goes on about your ex-fiancée, Frances. “Such a nice girl,” your mother always says. For a while, I began to wonder if that was her name, you know, a hyphenated name, Frances Such-A-Nice-Girl.’

‘Why are you dragging Frances into this? What on earth has put her into your head all of a sudden?’ he asked sharply.

‘Oh, I don’t know … I’m so tired of all this bickering.’

‘Well,