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.‘Then you wouldn’t have to be panicking about missing the bus and – ‘‘I don’t want a car,’ Cindy said shortly.‘Can’t afford one and there’s far too much traffic on the road as it is.’Polly shrugged.‘I’m going to get a car as soon as I’ve finished college.You’re lost without one these days.And it’s easy to learn to drive, Mum.I passed my test first time – and I’m sure even a really old person like you could do it - eventually.’Cindy shook her head.‘Not interested in cars.Now – I really must run.Finish your essay and remember the dishwasher – okay?’‘Okay, no sweat.’ Polly drifted out in to hall and giggled.‘There! See the first signs of old age – you haven’t picked up the article.’‘Thanks,’ Cindy took the folded sheets, glancing down at the photographs.Suddenly the brightly painted hall grew dark and she shivered.‘Oh…’‘What?’ Polly frowned over the rim of her coffee mug.‘What is it?’‘Nothing,’ Cindy said quickly.‘Someone just walked over my grave…’‘Don’t say that! Not even as a joke.I know it means sort of deja-vu – but I hate it.’‘You’re too soft for your own good,’ Cindy said gently, trying to sound normal.Feel normal.‘Now – I must dash or I’ll really miss the bus.’‘Mum – the article? Is that what made you go all spooky?’‘No! Of course not! Why on earth – ?‘‘Because,’ Polly peered at her mother, ‘it’s about Benfield, that’s why I pulled it out – that is where you used to live, isn’t it?’‘Where I grew up, yes,’ Cindy said carefully, remembering to smile.‘But I left there when – when I was younger than you are now and moved here, and then Granny and Grandpa moved down to Cornwall and I haven’t been back to Benfield since – crikey, it must be getting on for thirty years now.’‘I didn’t mean it to upset you, I just thought it would be funny if you knew any of the places mentioned…’‘I doubt that,’ Cindy shook her head.‘But it was lovely of you to remember anyway… Now, have a good day at college and I’ll see you tonight.Bye love.’By the time she’d arrived at work, grabbed a much-needed cup of caffeine to boost her after the bus’s nose-to-tail gridlocked crawl through the town, exchanged early morning grumbles and giggles with the other girls in the office, and settled behind her desk, the article was burning a red-hot hole in Cindy’s handbag.The bus had been packed, as always, and unable to get a seat, reading the feature hadn’t been an option.Should she read it anyway? After all these years? She’d been sure that she’d never hear about Benfield again.After all, she’d put it all behind her, as everyone had told her to do, and left it in the past where it belonged.Surely she’d be better not raking it up again, wouldn’t she?And even if she chose to read the article, she couldn’t risk the entire office witnessing her reaction to the contents, could she? Maybe she should she read it in private? Or maybe she shouldn’t read it at all…Mentally tossing up whether to feed the sheets into the office shredder, or take her courage in both hands and disappear with it into the ladies and lock herself in a cubicle without anyone noticing, Cindy shook her head.It couldn’t be that bad, could it? Not after all this time.‘Okay,’ she said to herself, ‘the loo it is…’‘Sorry?’ Kath looked across from the neighbouring desk.‘Did you say something?’‘Er – sorry, Kath.Just thinking out loud.’‘Aha! As we’ve long suspected.The first sign of insanity.And a symptom of living alone for far too long.’‘Excuse me?’ Cindy attempted a look of mock anger.‘I live with Polly and Dylan – and an awful lot of their friends who seem to take our place as their second home, not to mention –‘‘Protesting too much!’ Kath said triumphantly.‘And living with the kids doesn’t count.I know Steve’s pretty good, but you’ve spent too long being mum and dad and all things in between.You need to get a life of your own, Cindy.’‘Funny, Polly said much the same thing this morning…’Getting a life had been on her mind for some time – although, of course, she had a life, of sorts.There was work at Dexters – the town’s only remaining independent department store – where she’d progressed over the years from shop assistant through accounts clerk to customer service supervisor.And the divorce from Steve, seven years previously, had been reasonably painless and they were now good friends, and Polly and Dylan were, everyone said, a credit to her.Reluctantly deciding to leave the article until her coffee break, Cindy clicked open the “to be answered” letters file on her computer.She supposed the kids were a credit to her – and to Steve, because he was still a very-involved dad - they were happy, well-mannered, friendly and outgoing – and because her own parents had been so strict, she’d never tried to curb their youthful experimentations.Mind you, as soon as she was out of her parents’ sight, she’d been pretty experimental herself, hadn’t she? Polly and Dylan would probably be shocked rigid if they’d seen her when she was young.They’d never be able to equate the Cindy of those days with their comfortable middle-aged mum.They probably wouldn’t even recognise her.But then, she thought wryly, why should they? She didn’t even recognise herself…So, her children’s exotic hair colours and the body piercings and the frankly odd clothes which had come and gone over recent years, had been allowed – more or less – to pass unhindered.She had put her foot down over Polly’s desire to have Josh’s name tattooed on her shoulder, ignoring Polly’s tearful assertion that she and Josh would be together for always; and Dylan’s brief obsession with having his head shaved, but that apart, the children had been given freedom to express themselves.Too much freedom, her own parents had said grouchily.But Steve had backed her, and so far, Polly and Dylan had come through their growing-up years without any major problems [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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