The Good Girl by Fiona Neill Read Free Book Online Page A

longer than the joke deserved. But mainly because over the past year Mum had stopped making jokes, and even though it wasn’t that funny it seemed that my parents’ hopes of the dawning of a great new era weren’t so misplaced after all. Dad stepped out from behind the curtain and
hugged her from behind. And for once she didn’t pull away. Had they always been like this? I wondered. Or was it that I had just started to notice? In my head I thought it had something to do with my grandmother’s death. Mum tried not to cry in front of us but the sunglasses were a giveaway.
    The day after this Marley and Jay started school. They had the wrong uniform but didn’t seem to care. Marley lit up in the playground during break and negotiated his way out of detention by arguing that his old school in Ibiza had a more relaxed policy. Very cool. Jay kept himself to himself, hiding beneath his fringe. I don’t think I spoke a word to him until New Year’s Eve. That’s when everything kicked off.

3
    ‘Just explain why we are doing this,’ said Harry after locking the front door behind him. ‘I thought the forecast said to avoid unnecessary journeys.’
    He put his arm around Ailsa to emphasize this was a joke rather than a challenge and tried to kiss her on the cheek, but at the last minute she moved and he ended up kissing thin air. For a moment they stood together at the top of the stairs locked in a slightly reluctant embrace.
    There had been no recriminations over the car. Harry wanted her to acknowledge his tolerance in the same way that he wanted her to respond each time he texted her at school to say that he had put on a wash or renewed the car licence. He had never worked from home before and neither of them had foreseen how their domestic dealings would have to be recalibrated.
    Relationships were like amoebas. Constantly changing shape.
Sensitive to tiny environmental changes
, thought Ailsa, staring down at the shiny cream surface of the trifle she was holding. It was their contribution to the Fairports’ New Year’s Eve party. Harry hadn’t waited for the custard to cool and it was leaching into the cream topping like tiny trails of snot. It had been made for her father, in memory of her mother, by her husband, a
sequence of events that was unimaginable less than a year ago. Ailsa wondered what would happen if she plunged her fingers in the cream and shoved a handful into her mouth. She knew her orderly habits irritated those around her. It would be nice to confound expectations and see how that played out.
    ‘It is a necessary journey,’ called out Rachel from the garden below. ‘Ailsa has to do penance for crashing into them.’ No mention of her role in the drama. Ailsa struggled to conjure up irritation towards Rachel for her latest entanglement but she couldn’t. She never managed to stay angry with her sister for long. Besides, it was no more likely to fail or succeed than any other of her relationships and she didn’t want the burden of disapproval.
    ‘I was ambushed in a moment of weakness,’ said Ailsa as she carefully negotiated her way down the icy steps into the garden, trifle cradled under one arm, and joined everyone else at the bottom to debate the best route through the thick snow to the house next door. ‘They’ve asked before and I’ve turned them down. I couldn’t say no again.’
    ‘We need some new friends,’ said Harry.
    ‘I suppose it’s marginally better than staying at home like a bunch of sad fucks …’
    ‘Luke,’ warned Ailsa, nudging him in the small of the back with the crystal bowl, but he didn’t feel anything through the layers of thick clothes.
    ‘I think I’d rather be a sad fuck,’ muttered Romy.
    The snow had stopped and the moon was visible for the first time in days. Everything was white and even
usually murky corners of the garden gave off a strange luminous glow. It had snowed so much again that the bumper dislocated from the car earlier that day was