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Eight

      Lana was exhausted but very satisfied. The cottage gleamed. She hadn’t known what to do with some of the piles, but half of the stuff was now in Janice’s bedroom, stacked as neatly as she could. She’d just finished laying the table for supper when she heard the front door open.

      Janice must have gone in the sitting room to dump her coat as usual. All was deathly quiet. After a couple of minutes Lana heard the dining room door close. Then a shadow fell at the kitchen door.

      ‘You decided to come back, then?’ Janice came in slamming the door behind her and sat down at the kitchen table.

      ‘I think it was the word “quitter” that annoyed me,’ Lana retorted.

      ‘Nothing to do with Priscilla, then?’

      ‘Oh, yes, Priscilla was partly to blame because she needs help … anyway, here I am.’

      ‘Mmm.’ Janice cast her eyes round the kitchen. ‘I see you’ve tidied up a bit.’

      ‘I wouldn’t say “tidied” was accurate. More like a Herculean effort. But I had nothing else on the list for today.’

      ‘Just as long as you don’t throw your weight around,’ Janice said, ‘and start nagging.’

      ‘I shall do just that if you don’t blooming well keep it straight – and clean it sometimes.’

      ‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly compete with you. You’ve done it so well.’ There was a sarcastic edge to Janice’s tone, which Lana ignored.

      ‘I hate cleaning, but I hate living in a mess more,’ Lana said. ‘And by the way, I can cook but I refuse to do all of it.’

      ‘I’m not that interested in food, but I’ll give it a try.’

      ‘Don’t force yourself,’ Lana said lightly.

      The two women ate their meal in silence.

      ‘Are you sure Cook didn’t make this?’ Janice said, soaking up the last of the cheese sauce with a piece of bread, and popping it into her mouth.

      ‘All by my own fair hands.’ Lana held them out, palms upward, for Janice to inspect.

      ‘Hm. Those lily-whites don’t look as though they’ve scrubbed down too many front doorsteps.’

      ‘I’m not afraid of hard work,’ Lana said, annoyed at Janice’s perpetual sarcasm. ‘I’ve certainly done more than my share today on the cottage.’

      Janice’s tight mouth told her not to pursue the subject.

      After they’d finished the macaroni cheese and baked apple, Janice sat back in her chair, a look of satisfaction flitting across her narrow face.

      ‘I think I enjoyed that meal better than any for a long time,’ she said.

      ‘You’re only saying that to encourage me to continue cooking,’ Lana said, relaxing a little. ‘I think I’m getting to know you now.’

      ‘What, after only a day?’ Janice leaned forward. ‘Tell me the truth. What happened to bring you back? The last I heard was that you were leaving.’

      ‘Your Mrs Danvers was quite horrid to Priscilla when she arrived late and she threatened to report her. The child was almost in tears when her only crime was to rescue a cat. The woman didn’t see me until I made myself known and said I’d deal with it.’ She paused. ‘I don’t like her.’

      ‘None of us do. But she’s been here for donkey’s years and thinks she runs it.’

      ‘I’m going to keep a close watch on her and if I find she’s being unpleasant to the children I shall take it further.’

      ‘It would serve the old bat right.’ She hesitated, then said, ‘Just one thing, Lana.’

      Lana wondered what was coming. She braced herself.

      ‘Thanks for doing the cottage. It looks a bloody treat.’

      Lana gave an exaggerated sigh of relief. ‘Long as you keep it looking that way,’ she said.

      The rest of the evening passed in more or less friendly conversation. Janice told her a bit about Wendy Booth.

      ‘Nice woman. Engaged to be married, poor dear.’

      ‘Have you met him?’

      ‘No, I don’t need to. Don’t trust any of ’em.’ Janice pulled a face. ‘He’s in the Merchant Navy – that’s all I know. She doesn’t see him for months on end.’

      A cold chill slid down Lana’s spine. But this sailor was alive, whoever he was, and Dickie was dead. She felt Janice’s curious gaze.

      ‘What about your love life? Have you got a bloke hidden somewhere?’ Janice asked.

      ‘Not really,’ Lana said, her eyes pricking. ‘Look, Janice, I’ve enjoyed the evening and I don’t want to sound rude, but it’s been quite a day, so I think I’ll turn in early. Do you mind?’

      ‘Suits me,’ Janice said, her lips tightly pulled.

      ‘I’ll say goodnight, then.’

      Janice simply nodded.

      After cleaning her teeth, Lana drew the blackout curtains. She’d laid out her nightdress earlier so she slipped it on and climbed into bed. It was still only just gone nine but the room was cold. She would read for a few minutes in the dim bedside light. Tomorrow was going to be a day to reckon with.

      She sat against the pillow, the iron bedhead digging into her shoulders, her book propped up against her bent knees, but couldn’t settle to read. Her mind was too busy thinking about Janice. She’d felt the teacher’s resentment loud and clear but had been shocked at what she’d had to go through, hearing her husband tell her to her face he’d fallen in love with another woman. Janice was attractive with her dark hair and dark brown eyes, but she obviously hadn’t laughed much lately. Lana had the distinct feeling that Janice didn’t normally go into the kind of detail she’d poured out yesterday evening to most people.

      But Janice had been better company after she’d disclosed the reason why she’d been so upset to share what she’d thought of as her cottage. Lana wished she’d been brave enough to tell her about Dickie. It would have been a relief to talk to a stranger about him.

      To stop herself from wallowing in self-pity she opened her book and bent her head to focus on the print, but the words blurred one into the other and she yawned again. This time she felt herself drifting …

      Lana was up and dressed and had eaten her breakfast before Janice came downstairs, bleary-eyed.

      ‘There’s tea in the pot,’ Lana told her.

      ‘I feel as though I’ve spent the night boozing,’ Janice said, rubbing her eyes. ‘Don’t know what’s the matter with me.’

      ‘Maybe if you had something to eat in the mornings you’d feel better,’ Lana said briskly. ‘There’s a little porridge left over. I was going to give it to the birds.’

      ‘They’re welcome to it.’ Janice pulled a face. ‘But tea’d be nice.’

      ‘I’m off then – first day.’ Lana tried to keep any apprehension from her voice, but Janice gave her a sharp look.

      ‘One bit of bad news,’ she said. ‘Mrs Danvers will have to show you where everything is as Wendy and Joan Ford and I have classes first thing. I don’t think you’ve met Joan. She teaches the younger ones.’

      ‘I can cope with Mrs Danvers,’ Lana said. ‘You should see the kind of headmaster I came up against at my last school.’

      ‘Do you mean you were a teacher like Wendy and me?’ Janice demanded.

      Lana nodded, furious

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