dragging an afro comb through her wild, wavy hair as she ran down the stairs.
Manus had already taken her suitcases out and was hugging Ven and wishing her a happy birthday for next week.
Roz grabbed her handbag from the hall-stand and checked inside for her money and passport again. She didn’t know how to say goodbye to Manus appropriately. He wasn’t giving any impression to Ven that they were hanging on by a thread as he helped the taxi driver load the cases into the boot. Nor did he allow Roz time to stage their parting because he bent to her cheek and laid a soft kiss there.
‘Have a lovely time,’ he said. He was scared to give her more, she knew, and she momentarily hated herself for it. Then she hated him for not fighting back. Hate, hate, hate. She felt full of it and it exhausted her.
‘I will,’ she said with a dry smile. Then she climbed into the back seat of the taxi and kept her head facing forward, and defied those tears that were rising within her to make a show.
Olive switched her alarm off after the first ring, panicking in case it alerted anyone else in the house, but she needn’t have worried. The shrill ring would have more luck waking the dead on Cemetery Road. It was like an awful choir as she tiptoed to the bathroom: Doreen snoring contralto in the lounge, Kevin – alto from the spare room, and the mighty bass – David, in their bedroom. They would have turned to dust, getting up at six on a Sunday morning. She wondered how they would feel, rising after eleven and finding there was no comforting smell of bacon and eggs drifting from the kitchen. They’d combust! Dutiful feelings started to creep in and poison Olive with guilt and she galvanised her resolve and batted them away. They needed this wake-up call. For all their sakes, they needed to realise that Olive wasn’t a slave. It wasn’t good for Doreen to be immobile for such long periods of time either, she reasoned. Obviously nipping out for fags was the most exercise she was getting, if that wasn’t ironic. And Kevin might be a more attractive prospect if he could clean his own clothes, though brushing his teeth might help a bit as well. The tortoiseshell-glaze look would never be in vogue, although by the number of women he’d pulled in his time, maybe he knew something the dental world didn’t. As for David – well, having to do what Olive did for the family day in, day out might just make him learn to have some respect for her. Yes, they would all benefit from her being away, and she needed to keep that thought fully in focus, especially when those guilty feelings started gathering again, as she knew they were bound to.
At seven forty-five, she crept down the hallway with her bag and was just about to open the door and go out into the street so that the taxi didn’t beep its horn on arrival, when Kevin’s voice hit her from behind and scared her half to death.
‘Where are you off to at this time, Olive?’
Olive turned to see Kevin, yawning and looking like an anorexic xylophone with his skinny bare chest. He was clutching the pink toilet roll he had just come downstairs to fetch and wearing only a red thong with a porn-star bulge pushing at the material, which was drawing Olive’s attention where she didn’t want to give it. Ah, so it wasn’t the tortoiseshell teeth that was the hook, after all.
Flustered, she was about to reply that she had an early-morning cleaning job, but then an imp took over her mouth.
‘I’m clearing off,’ she said cockily. ‘To Greece. See you later, Kevin.’
The taxi was just drawing up when she went into the street. And just like Roz, after climbing into it, Olive didn’t look back at the house which she had just left.
Chapter 15
‘I can’t believe you are here,’ said Roz, smiling and hugging her. Ven had already filled her in on what had happened the previous night to make Olive change her mind. ‘What a brilliant surprise. I am thrilled you made it.’
‘Trust me,
Manus had already taken her suitcases out and was hugging Ven and wishing her a happy birthday for next week.
Roz grabbed her handbag from the hall-stand and checked inside for her money and passport again. She didn’t know how to say goodbye to Manus appropriately. He wasn’t giving any impression to Ven that they were hanging on by a thread as he helped the taxi driver load the cases into the boot. Nor did he allow Roz time to stage their parting because he bent to her cheek and laid a soft kiss there.
‘Have a lovely time,’ he said. He was scared to give her more, she knew, and she momentarily hated herself for it. Then she hated him for not fighting back. Hate, hate, hate. She felt full of it and it exhausted her.
‘I will,’ she said with a dry smile. Then she climbed into the back seat of the taxi and kept her head facing forward, and defied those tears that were rising within her to make a show.
Olive switched her alarm off after the first ring, panicking in case it alerted anyone else in the house, but she needn’t have worried. The shrill ring would have more luck waking the dead on Cemetery Road. It was like an awful choir as she tiptoed to the bathroom: Doreen snoring contralto in the lounge, Kevin – alto from the spare room, and the mighty bass – David, in their bedroom. They would have turned to dust, getting up at six on a Sunday morning. She wondered how they would feel, rising after eleven and finding there was no comforting smell of bacon and eggs drifting from the kitchen. They’d combust! Dutiful feelings started to creep in and poison Olive with guilt and she galvanised her resolve and batted them away. They needed this wake-up call. For all their sakes, they needed to realise that Olive wasn’t a slave. It wasn’t good for Doreen to be immobile for such long periods of time either, she reasoned. Obviously nipping out for fags was the most exercise she was getting, if that wasn’t ironic. And Kevin might be a more attractive prospect if he could clean his own clothes, though brushing his teeth might help a bit as well. The tortoiseshell-glaze look would never be in vogue, although by the number of women he’d pulled in his time, maybe he knew something the dental world didn’t. As for David – well, having to do what Olive did for the family day in, day out might just make him learn to have some respect for her. Yes, they would all benefit from her being away, and she needed to keep that thought fully in focus, especially when those guilty feelings started gathering again, as she knew they were bound to.
At seven forty-five, she crept down the hallway with her bag and was just about to open the door and go out into the street so that the taxi didn’t beep its horn on arrival, when Kevin’s voice hit her from behind and scared her half to death.
‘Where are you off to at this time, Olive?’
Olive turned to see Kevin, yawning and looking like an anorexic xylophone with his skinny bare chest. He was clutching the pink toilet roll he had just come downstairs to fetch and wearing only a red thong with a porn-star bulge pushing at the material, which was drawing Olive’s attention where she didn’t want to give it. Ah, so it wasn’t the tortoiseshell teeth that was the hook, after all.
Flustered, she was about to reply that she had an early-morning cleaning job, but then an imp took over her mouth.
‘I’m clearing off,’ she said cockily. ‘To Greece. See you later, Kevin.’
The taxi was just drawing up when she went into the street. And just like Roz, after climbing into it, Olive didn’t look back at the house which she had just left.
Chapter 15
‘I can’t believe you are here,’ said Roz, smiling and hugging her. Ven had already filled her in on what had happened the previous night to make Olive change her mind. ‘What a brilliant surprise. I am thrilled you made it.’
‘Trust me,
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