Peppercorn Street by Anna Jacobs Page B

wouldn’t make any difference to William. Her elder son had not only grown a lot physically during the past year, he’d changed, turned into a bully, at home as well as at school.
    It upset her to leave the mess, but she did.
    She had no idea where Sam was or when he’d be back. She couldn’t imagine a meeting at work going on so long. In the end she went to bed and lay down, waking with a start some time later.
    What had woken her? Glancing at the bedside clock, she saw it was just after midnight. A car door banged outside and there was the sound of a key in the front door. Whoever it was had trouble fitting the key in the lock and that didn’t sound like Sam. She tiptoed out on to the landing and looked down, ready to call the boys if it was an intruder.
    But it was Sam. He reeled into the hall, weaving to and fro, bumping into the wall, clearly very drunk. Had he driven home like that? He must have done. And yet he’d been strongly against drink-driving ever since she’d known him.
    Feeling as if nothing else was left to unravel in her life, she went back to bed, placing a chair under the door handle in case he tried to come in. Wine had always made him amorous in the past.
    But this time he made no attempt to find her. The only explanation she could think of was that he was being unfaithful and had already made love that evening.
    That thought stiffened her resolution, which had been wavering. She was definitely doing the right thing in movingout. There was no reason for her to stay here any longer.
    Only why did it feel so wrong? Why did it hurt so much?
     
    Going for walks not only helped pass the time but the baby loved being out and about. Saturday afternoon was sunny, so mild that Janey lingered in the park and then strolled on to the allotments. She stopped once again to stare enviously over the gate. Come spring, she would enjoy looking at the vegetables, seeing them ripen.
    In fact … she might put her name down for an allotment and grow her own vegetables. It’d not only save money but give her something to do which she enjoyed. There was probably a huge waiting list, though. A lot of people wanted to grow their own food these days.
    She saw the same old man come out of his hut on one of the big central plots and when he waved to her, she waved back without hesitation.
    As he began walking towards her, she stiffened then told herself not to be silly. She and her daughter were quite safe here in the open. If you got paranoid about safety, you’d never do anything interesting. He was probably lonely.
    So was she.
    He stayed on the other side of the big gate, hands thrust deep into the baggy pockets of a well-worn casual jacket. He was close enough to look into the pram and smile at Millie, who gurgled at him and waved her hands around. ‘What a bonny baby! Must be a girl. What’s her name?’
    ‘Millie.’
    ‘Short for Millicent?’
    ‘Yes. It was my grandma’s name.’
    ‘I had a cousin called Millie once. I’m Dan Shackleton, by the way.’
    ‘Janey.’ She didn’t give him her surname and he didn’t comment on that, thank goodness.
    ‘Not much for you to see here at this time of year.’
    ‘How soon will you be doing the spring planting? I’m looking forward to seeing what everyone grows.’
    ‘I don’t start my first plantings till early March, whatever the seed packets say. Like gardening, do you?’
    ‘I used to help my granddad in his garden. I loved it. I still miss him.’ Her mother had complained about her getting dirty, putting up with it only because her granddad insisted and because he gave her vegetables.
    Janey realised Mr Shackleton was waiting patiently for her to say something. ‘Um, is there a long waiting list for allotments, do you know? I was wondering if I could get one. It’d be fun to look after and it might save money to grow my own food.’
    ‘I’m afraid there’s a long waiting list, because these are statutory allotments and the council can’t use the