Valentina: A Hauntingly Intelligent Psychological Thriller by S. E. Lynes Page B

and rolled her eyes.
    “ Does he work?”
    “ I suppose you could call it that. In a vintage record store, you know, while he waits for a record deal to drop out of the sky?”
    “ I love music,” I said, trying to sound positive. “I’ll have to check out his store. Whereabouts is it? What’s it called?”
    But she’d gone back to her finger painting, as if she hadn’t heard me.
    “ Michael has a proper job,” she said after a moment. “He has a career.”
    “ Mikey, you mean? Aye. But the whole offshore thing is far from ideal, especially with a little one.”
    “ I know what you mean.” She turned to me, her face soft with sympathy.
    I felt a stab of irritation. No, not a stab, that’s too strong, a needle. I wanted to ask her what the hell she thought she knew about living half your life without your other half – which, thinking about it, would’ve been a bit of a mouthful.
    “ I get lonely,” I said instead. “Especially out at the cottage. I’m used to noise. That’s why I booked Isla into the nursery. I’m going to get some work once she’s settled.”
    “ Absolutely. Never give up your independence, Shona. Any woman who gives up work is an idiot.”
    I gave her a sideways glance, saw her mouth drop open.
    “ I didn’t mean you! You’ve had the move and everything. I just mean you can’t put your feet up and rely on it all working out, that’s all. That’s a fool’s paradise.”
    “ I wouldn’t call it paradise and I hardly ever put my feet up,” I said, with more irritation that I would’ve liked. “And I would’ve said all those things before I had Isla. I would’ve said them right up until the moment Mikey said he was going offshore. And I tell you what, I’m much more tired after a day with Isla than I ever was after a day at the paper.” I could feel my belly heating with anger. “And I’ll tell you something else, Mikey’s as dependent on me as I am on him. There’s no way he could do what he does and still have everything he has if it wasn’t for me.”
    “ Truth, Sister. But no one pays you, do they?”
    “ I know and that’s not ideal, but we need to respect each other’s choices, don’t we? Women, I mean? The world would be a much better place if we did.” I was on my soapbox now, right enough. “No one criticises a man for staying at home. No one criticises a man for having a demanding career. They get lauded, whatever they do. Whichever choice they make is a noble act. When it’s a man.”
    I wanted to add, well, so much more, but she was looking at me with the kind of concerned expression you give someone who’s about to jump off a bridge, so I simply said, “I reckon, if you’re going to be with someone, at some point you’ve got to trust each other, haven’t you? Trust. That’s really what it’s about.”
    We made our way down to the main road, past the horse in the field, grazing away. My lonely little houyhnhnm.
    “ So, talking of work,” I said. “What do you do?”
    She knitted her hands, pushed them out in front of her then raised them up in a stretch.
    “ I’m a yoga teacher,” she said, “and a trainee reflexologist. Do you know every part of the sole of your foot corresponds to a part of your body?”
    I nodded. I thought everyone knew that, but I let her tell me all about it anyway. She was thinking about learning crystals too, she told me. I tried not to snigger. Things like that crack me up.
    “ I’ll do your feet next time,” she said as we neared town.
    “ You’re on. Get my chakras in order, they’re a bloody mess.”
    But again, she didn’t seem to be listening. She twisted in her seat and looked through the back window of the car, as if we were being chased by the police or something.
    She turned back, looked intently ahead. “We should go faster,” she said, patting the dashboard with both hands.
    “ Ach, I think the limit’s forty along here.”
    Her green eyes flashed, wild gems in glancing torchlight.