‘Definitely. Anyway, do we even have to do party bags?’
‘Yes. Everyone does them.’ She knew Jon thought she was making too much fuss about this party. They’re five, he’d said to her the other day, how complicated can it be? But she wanted to give Billy a proper party. ‘Do you think we ought to invite Angus Murray?’
‘Angus Murray?’
‘The kid who hits everyone.’
‘No!’
‘It’s just I feel a bit sorry for him. And his mum is so nice.’
Jon shrugged. ‘You ought to make sure you get half.’
‘Half what?’ Laura said, hastily scribbling an extra invitation for Angus.
‘Your mum’s money.’
‘I guess,’ Laura said, putting the invitation into an envelope and sealing it.
‘It’s only fair,’ Jon said. He sat beside her on the sofa and slid his arm around her. She leant her head against his shoulder. ‘I love you,’ he said.
‘I love you too.’ They sat there for a minute in utterly comfortable silence, Jon gently stroking her hair. ‘You really do have to get to work,’ she said finally.
He laughed. ‘I do. Don’t suppose you happen to know where my work jacket is?’
‘Yes, I hid it along with your keys and wallet. You know, just for fun.’
‘All right, sarky-pants.’ He started rooting through a pile of clothes on the floor.
‘We really have to tidy this place up a bit.’
‘It’s fine.’
‘Oooh, I think this would go down well. Rainbow slime.’
‘For the funeral or the party bags?’
Laura laughed.
Jon kissed the top of her head. ‘Bloody hell, the slime is nearly two quid a pop. How many kids did you say you’re inviting?’
‘Twenty-five. No, twenty-six now we’re including Angus.’
Jon laughed and rolled his eyes theatrically. ‘Twenty-six kids coming here? Are you completely mad?’
‘Probably,’ Laura said, laughing.
He kissed her goodbye. ‘I might go for a quick one with Jimmy after we leave the office. That okay?’
Laura knew the subtext here: Your mother died a week ago so you get to make unreasonable demands. But, again, who wanted to be that person? ‘Of course.’
‘Love you, babe. Don’t let your sister grind you down.’
Laura felt a stab of irritation. She could slag off Jess but she didn’t want anyone else joining in.
Chapter Nine
Laura’s mum might be resting in peace but Laura felt anything but peaceful. When she’d joked about her mum leaving everything to Jess, she hadn’t imagined that Jon would take her seriously. Or that the idea would begin to worm its way into her consciousness. Because, now she came to think of it, leaving everything to Jess was just the kind of thing that her mother would do. A slap from beyond the grave.
Stop worrying about something that hasn’t even happened yet, Laura told herself (goodness knows there was already enough to deal with in the realms of reality). But her mind refused her attempts to quieten it. The more she tried to push away any thoughts of an unfair split, the more they forced their way into her mind. She even found herself waking up in the night (finally the insomnia of the properly bereaved, even if hers wasn’t for the right reason).
Which is why Laura had to have this conversation. She dispensed with the elegant run up; there was no easy way to say this. ‘Look, I wanted to talk to you about Mum’s will. If, when we come to look at it, we find out she hasn’t split things equally between the two of us … well …’ Laura’s mouth was dry and she couldn’t look up. ‘I want you to know I don’t think that’s fair. You may have been her favourite but I was her daughter too and we ought to split everything down the middle.’
The night before, Jon had told her that even that was crazy. ‘Jess doesn’t need the money.’
‘That’s not the point,’ Laura had told him. Anyway, she was happy with half. She just wanted things to be fair (for once).
She rooted herself back in the present. ‘I would rather not fall out about this.’
Silence.
She paced around the room, took a swig of Gaviscon. Jon had kept telling her she had to fight this for Billy’s sake. She took a deep breath. ‘I hope we can sort this out amicably but if we can’t, I want you to know I’m going to take legal advice.’
Silence.
Laura’s head pounded and she clenched her fists. She wasn’t a greedy person. In fact, she’d always prided herself on not being materialistic. (Mind you, so had Jon and to hear him spending this inheritance in his head before she’d even got it was quite something. They could pay off all their debts. Put a deposit down on a flat. He’d love somewhere with a home office so he could really concentrate on his writing. He’d even talked about scaling back his shifts at the restaurant. Scaling them back more? Laura felt like saying.)
‘I know you don’t believe me but I promise you I mean it. I’ll take you to court if it comes to that.’
Silence.
The thought of going to court made Laura feel sick. The whole orphan label felt Dickensian enough but now she and Jess were going to turn into those characters who lost their entire inheritance in legal fees: Jarndyce and Jarndyce. Laura did not want to be them. ‘Splitting everything down the middle is the fair thing to do.’ She looked up. Still no response.
But then, what did she expect from one of Billy’s teddy bears? Now she just had to hope the real conversation went better than the rehearsal.
Chapter Ten
Laura should not have opened that bottle of wine and should not have been sitting there winding herself up into a frenzy.
She was angry with everybody.
Jon for being out with Jimmy again.
Billy for refusing to eat his tomatoes or do his reading properly.
Her mother for dying.
Jess for bossing her about. (And saying she was an ‘idiot’ when it came to Jon. And taking the locket without so much as asking. And … well, the list went on.)
Laura poured herself another glass of wine (sod Dry sodding January!), a little sloshing over the edge of the glass. She was supposed to be finishing the Order of Service, addressing Jess’ unwelcome feedback (jeez, it was just like work), but instead she was going from Facebook to Twitter on her laptop. Every now and again a pop-up ad for the mobile-phone-shaped floral display appeared and Laura would smile. Jess would be so mad.
Earlier, Laura had been to the beauty counter of a big department store having decided that, overdraft notwithstanding, she was going to treat herself to some proper, grown-up make-up; Jess-type make-up. She’d had quite enough of just making do with what was left in the beauty drawer at work because, although Natasha the beauty editor always made a huge thing of how she shared out all the freebies, everyone knew she kept the best stuff for herself and what was left was slim pickings. When Laura had walked into the store, she’d felt giddy with the excitement of it all and suddenly remembered her mother sitting at restaurant tables and fishing a rose-gold compact out of her handbag in order to touch up her lipstick while Laura looked on, knowing she could never be so impossibly glamorous. A woman approached and asked if she could help. Laura explained that yes, she was looking for some new ideas, that she was a bit rubbish with this sort of thing.