when he added, ‘Who wouldn’t want to be assaulted by an inflatable number three. It could be worse; I might get my head stuck in the zero.’
When Rob leant over and gave her a peck on the cheek, she relaxed; she had done the right thing. Smiling, Vikki pushed back a rogue curl that had escaped the hair grip pinning back her dark golden curls, leaving only a select few tresses to fall over her round face in an attempt to lengthen her features. She often wished it were as easy to lengthen her petite figure, which was also a bit more curved than she would like since the birth of her daughter.
‘Maybe we could re-tie them so they’re floating higher above your chair,’ Vikki’s mum suggested helpfully.
Rob was still smiling when he said, ‘Great idea, Elaine. There are probably people at the far end of the restaurant who haven’t realized I’ve turned into an old git yet.’
‘If you’re an old git, what does that make me?’
‘Have you never heard of the term Cougar?’ Rob asked.
Elaine had stood up to rearrange the balloons and swiped him across the head. ‘Yes, I have, and I think I’d prefer to be called an old git.’
Vikki’s mum was technically middle-aged, but only just, and she was both flattered and annoyed whenever people refused to accept that she was a grandmother. Her husband, who had passed away four years earlier, had been much older and Elaine’s youthfulness had been a sensitive issue for her. Despite the teasing, she didn’t mind getting old, certainly not as much as Rob did. She loved being a grandmother, and that was something Vikki was counting on as she let the waitress take their orders before dropping the first suggestion about her plans.
‘I’ve seen a couple of jobs I think I’m going to apply for, Mum. It’s only general admin work, but it’ll give me a chance to get my brain back into gear.’
‘Oh.’
‘I keep telling Vikki she’s selling herself short,’ Rob said when Elaine offered no further response. ‘Anyone can see she does a brilliant job of looking after Freya, and me too. I’m sure she thinks that because she isn’t earning a wage she doesn’t contribute to the household. Your daughter’s too proud for her own good.’
‘But with Freya starting pre-school, I thought that’s what everyone expected me to do,’ Vikki said.
Before answering his wife, Rob shared the briefest look with Elaine. ‘I support you one hundred per cent, Vikki,’ he said, ‘but I don’t want you to feel pressurized into going out to work. I know we had this vague plan about you restarting a career, but plans can change. You shouldn’t feel obliged.’
Vikki wasn’t sure she did feel obliged. She liked the idea of finding a job that would take her interests beyond home, although, if she were being honest, she didn’t exactly have a career path in mind. She wasn’t even sure how employable she would be these days, which was why she needed someone to give her that final push. Rob was being too nice about it, and that was why she had raised the subject in front of her mum.
Her parents had had their hearts set on Vikki going to university after her A levels, and had only agreed to her taking a gap year because she had found herself a job she loved with a local estate agent. The gap year turned into two, and marriage and motherhood followed in quick succession, putting an end to her plans for university and her job, but Elaine still had ambitions for her daughter – it was what her late husband would have wanted and her support was assured.
‘I’d only need to find a childminder for the afternoons, if I needed to …’
Vikki let her words trail off deliberately. This was where her mum was meant to speak up. It wasn’t as if Elaine hadn’t already hinted that she would be willing to take care of Freya if ever Vikki were ready for a career. Except, now that Vikki was ready to accept such an offer, her mum remained silent on the subject.
‘Honestly, Vikki, now isn’t the time,’ Rob said, rather harshly, which made Vikki feel all the more confused. She didn’t know what she had done wrong.
Elaine searched under the table for her bag and grimaced as she picked it up. ‘Here you go, Freya, look what I brought for you.’
All eyes turned to the little girl who had inherited Vikki’s curls. Freya’s eyes lit up when she spied the colouring book. ‘Me draw smiley faces now.’ The three-year-old reached out and wrapped her hand around an orange crayon but when Elaine moved closer to help, Freya shook her head. ‘No, Daddy do it.’
Rob was more than willing, if only to dodge the awkwardness of the conversation mother and daughter were avoiding.
‘Where is that waitress?’ Elaine asked, and a moment later cursed under her breath. ‘Oh good lord, is that Sarah Tavistock? That’s all I need.’
Vikki twisted in her seat to get a better look. Fortunately, the group of diners who had caught their attention were too involved in their own conversations to realize they were being watched. Vikki had briefly attended the same gym club as Sarah’s daughter, Charlotte; although the age difference meant they had never been friends, Charlotte’s parents were hard to forget.
‘I had a letter from the planning department the other day,’ Elaine said. ‘Her company’s bought the land directly opposite the house and she wants to build on it.’
The house in question was the home Vikki’s parents had bought on the outskirts of Sedgefield when her dad had taken early retirement. Combining his skills as an architect and her mum’s love of home-making, they had converted an old outbuilding into two holiday cottages; the intention was that this would provide enough income to allow them to take life at a slower pace. Unfortunately their plan for a perfect semi-retirement had lasted less than twelve months. Without warning, her father had collapsed and died from a massive heart attack, leaving his family bereft. It was an unspoken truth that Vikki and Rob’s decision to have a baby had been a reaction to the family’s loss. Freya’s arrival was by no means an attempt to fill the void in their lives, but she had given them all a new focus, her mum included.
‘Build what?’ asked Vikki.
‘Houses.’
Vikki watched as Elaine rearranged the cutlery in front of her, having decided there was no further discussion necessary.
‘And you’re not bothered about it?’
‘There’s not a lot I can do, Vikki.’
‘Have you seen the details? Do you know what the plan is?’ Vikki asked. Her alarm was magnified by the lack of response from her mum.
‘It’s a small development of luxury family homes.’
‘How small?’
‘Sixteen houses.’
‘Someone wants to build a housing estate opposite your countryside cottages, and you’re not bothered? Dad would have had a fit! He would be camping out on the site in protest until they changed their minds. Dad would—’
‘Your dad isn’t here!’
Elaine’s raised voice drew Freya’s attention away from the picture of a clown she and her daddy had been colouring in. She frowned until her grandmother gave her a reassuring smile, but when Freya returned to her drawing, Rob’s attention remained with Vikki and Elaine.
‘Fine,’ Vikki said, folding her arms across her chest and doing her best not to pout like a petulant child. ‘You might not want to do anything about it, but I will. I’ll start a campaign.’
‘Don’t, Vikki,’ Elaine said quietly. ‘Now isn’t the time, trust me.’
‘How can it not be the time?’ Vikki asked. ‘If there’s a planning application then there’ll be some sort of time limit for you to object.’
‘Please, Vikki,’ Rob said as he leant over to touch her hand. ‘Even if you did know how