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

the sun, altering the level of light in the room as effectively as a dimmer switch. For a second Wendy fancied she heard a footfall, almost directly above their heads, but any sound was drowned by Mrs Taylor exclaiming, ‘Goodness! Doesn’t the sunlight make a difference?’

‘It’s quite dull in here now,’ her husband said. ‘It’s these old-fashioned windows, I suppose. You’d get more light in if you changed them … though you’d soon start to rack up the costs.’

Wendy tried to keep smiling. Why on earth would anyone want to vandalize her house? Though of course it would not be her house, if the Taylors bought it.

‘You’d need to change them all, so they matched,’ Mrs Taylor said. ‘And anyway, we agreed, no more major projects. I don’t want to live in any more building sites, thank you very much.’

‘Well, it was you who suggested knocking a wall down.’ He laughed, while Wendy’s hopes plummeted.

‘I wasn’t really serious. Come on, let’s see the rest of it.’ Mrs Taylor’s voice had transformed into that of a person who feels they must go through the motions. Someone resigned to the convention that it would be impolite to say outright to a homeowner that you have seen enough of their property to know that it is not what you are looking for.

Wendy ushered them across the landing and into the master bedroom, sparing a swift glance up at the white, impassive ceiling as she did. Why now? It was only the second time she’d heard those sounds, and this was not a good moment for any mysterious creaking to manifest itself.

Feeling that it was her turn to ring Bruce, Wendy tried the number at around eight that evening, but Digby answered and told her that Bruce was out. ‘I’m not sure whether he’s working late,’ he said vaguely. ‘I’ll get him to ring you when he comes in, shall I?’

It was well after ten when Bruce rang back. ‘I popped out for a drink with some people after work,’ he said. ‘Are you all right? How are the kids?’

‘Everyone’s fine. Some people came to look at the house today.’

‘Oh yes?’ Bruce sounded cautious. ‘What did they say?’

‘Nothing very much. I don’t think they’ll go for it. She suggested knocking through two of the bedrooms, of all things.’

‘I was thinking of fetching the children down here again for the spring bank holiday weekend,’ Bruce said. ‘Obviously you’ll want to stay up there with Tara.’

‘Well …’

‘Better if you do. Spring bank holiday is the sort of time when you might get a few more people wanting to see over the house.’

‘The estate agent has a set of keys,’ Wendy began, but Bruce wasn’t listening. He’d started telling her something about a chap at work who had offered to put him up for membership of a local squash club.

Wendy wished that she had never made such an issue of not leaving Tara alone. For all she had seen of her eldest over Easter, Tara might as well have been there on her own, and there had been no sign of any boyfriend on the scene at all. Now it seemed to be taken for granted that Bruce and the children would spend another weekend at his parents’ house without her. It was like being separated or something. Rather than tackle the question on the phone, she decided to talk it over when Bruce came home for the weekend, but that intention was thwarted when he unexpectedly announced that he wouldn’t be able to make it due to a works meeting being scheduled on the Saturday.

‘I don’t believe it,’ she said, when he told her. ‘You’ve never had a meeting on a Saturday before.’

‘What do you mean, you don’t believe it? Are you saying that you think I’ve made it up?’

‘No, of course not. I didn’t say “I don’t believe it”, as in you’re not telling the truth. I was just …’

‘Incredulous?’

‘Yes, incredulous. That’s the word.’

‘Well, things are different down here. It’s not like it was on Teesside. I’ve got a lot more responsibility now.’

‘Yes, yes. Of course, I can see that.’

Wendy was a little hurt to witness the children’s enthusiasm as they clambered into Bruce’s car in readiness for another jaunt to Leicestershire without her. Of course, they did not view time spent with his parents in quite the same way as she did. To compensate for their absence, Wendy persuaded Tara to join her at the kitchen table for supper. ‘I’ve made a prawn curry,’ she said. ‘One of your favourites.’

‘I’ve decided to go and stay with Bob and Mel once my exams are finished,’ Tara announced, after downing her first mouthful. ‘It’ll give me a good chance to find my way around Birmingham – assuming I get the grades to go there. And then I’m going to go out to the villa with them in the summer holidays. I bet I come back with a lovely tan like Mel’s. And I’ll also be able to catch up with John.’

‘John?’ Wendy knew perfectly well who Tara was referring to, but it was the first thing she latched on to in a stream of unwelcome information.

‘You know very well who I mean. He’s living down there at his mum and dad’s, waiting to start at the Poly.’

‘Oh. That John. I didn’t think you’d been seeing him.’

‘I haven’t been seeing him. Didn’t you hear me? He’s been living in Birmingham, so how can I have been seeing him? I’ve been keeping in touch with him, though, and he can’t wait to see me again, if you know what I mean …’

‘I don’t think it’s a good idea, Tara. He’s so much older than you …’

‘Four years. Four years is nothing.’

‘It’s quite a lot at your age.’

‘Oh, Mother! Do stop being so fucking ridiculous!’

‘Tara!’

‘Well, just jack it in, will you? I’m an adult. I’m not some silly little fifteen-year-old virgin. I know what I’m doing.’

Wendy felt herself go rigid with anger. Her cheeks burned. She stared at her