LITMIR.BIZ

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she say why she did it?’

      ‘Nope,’ said Noel with a sigh, rifling his fingers through his greying hair. ‘I read the riot act, and all that did was produce floods of tears. I couldn’t get her to say a word about what she’s been up to. So I’ve just left her to stew on it. Now might be a good time for some softly softly.’

      Okay, time to gird her loins. Cat made her way to the top of the house, and to Mel’s low-beamed bedroom where she spent a huge amount of time in splendid teenage isolation. She disappeared up there for hours, plugged into either her iPod, her phone, or her laptop. (Cat was vaguely aware Mel had an anonymous blog, but she had no idea what it was called and despite her massive curiosity about it, at Noel’s suggestion had kept away – ‘Give her some space,’ Noel was always saying, ‘if you read her blog, it will be the equivalent of your mum reading your diary.’ Except she’d never written anything worth hiding from her mum in her diary. At fifteen, Louise had known all Cat’s secrets.) Mel was only secretive as far as Cat was concerned, hiding anything dodgy on Facebook, and chatting to God knows who on BBM, and for all Cat knew making a bunch of unsuitable friends.

      It had been so different when they’d first got to Hope Christmas, four years earlier. Having been bullied at her old school, Mel had been happy to fall in with a bunch of self-confessed geeks, and not felt the need to worry about it. But in the last year Mel had drifted away from them, becoming close to a girl called Karen whose entire raison d’être seemed to be going out and getting as drunk as possible. She hadn’t been a very good influence in Cat’s opinion – but she didn’t dare say so. The more Cat and Noel criticised Karen, the more intransigent Mel got.

      ‘May I come in?’ Cat poked her head round the door. Mel was lying on her bed looking moody, listening to her iPod.

      ‘Suppose,’ was the ungracious response. ‘But if you’re going to give me a lecture, it’s okay; Dad’s already done the third degree. And now I’m like, grounded, forever.’

      ‘Mel, what did you expect?’ said Cat, her hackles rising. ‘You weren’t at school and we were worried about you. You can’t just bunk off because you don’t feel like going in.’

      ‘I was okay,’ said Mel.

      ‘Yes, but we didn’t know that,’ said Cat trying to keep her voice level. ‘And besides, until you’re sixteen you have to go to school every day, like it or not.’

      Mel just grunted, and shifted awkwardly on the bed.

      ‘So who’s this boy then?’ said Cat after a pause.

      ‘A mate,’ said Mel.

      ‘Does his mum know he’s been bunking off, too?’

      ‘He’s not at school,’ said Mel.

      ‘Christ, how old is he?’ Mel was still only fifteen. Cat had visions of her dating a twenty-one-year-old.

      ‘Nineteen,’ said Mel sulkily. ‘And before you go off on one, he’s got a job.’

      ‘So why wasn’t he at work?’ said Cat.

      ‘Day off,’ said Mel.

      ‘And what does he do?’

      ‘Farm labourer,’ said Mel. ‘He works for Pippa sometimes.’

      At least that was something, Cat supposed, making a mental note to quiz Pippa about him later.

      ‘Well, I can’t say I’m impressed that you’ve found yourself a boyfriend who’s encouraged you to bunk off,’ said Cat. ‘Tomorrow, I want you to go into school and write a letter of apology to Mrs Carter. And I shall be taking you into school for the rest of the week to make sure you get there.’

      ‘But, Mum,’ wailed Mel. ‘I’m not a kid anymore.’

      ‘But Mum, nothing,’ said Cat. ‘I’ll treat you like a grown-up when you learn to behave like one.’

      ‘That’s so unfair,’ said Mel.

      ‘That’s as maybe,’ said Cat, ‘but it’s still what’s happening.’

      She left Mel still in a strop, no doubt texting the whole world to complain about her lot in life, and made her way downstairs with a heavy heart. Sometimes she felt like her daughter was an alien from another planet. When Mel was little Cat had never imagined that she would ever think it, but life had been so much easier when she was five.

      Pippa had just parked on the village square, outside Hope Christmas Community shop – known locally as Vera’s (in tribute to Vera Edwards who ran it with her husband Albert) – to deliver her baking, when she saw Marianne’s slight form struggling with her double buggy in the doorway. Like a lot of buildings in Hope Christmas, it was quaint and old, but not terribly baby friendly. Pippa put down her boxes of cakes and ran over to help. Marianne smiled her thanks as she pushed the twins into the dark interior of the shop. Her dark curls were held up in a loose ponytail, and her blue eyes looked pale and tired.

      ‘You look done in,’ said Pippa, following her in with the cakes.

      ‘I am a bit,’ said Marianne. ‘The twins are teething and they keep taking it in turns to wake up. Thank God I’m not teaching today. Otherwise I would have been a zombie.’

      ‘Have you time for a coffee?’ Vera’s was not only a thriving village shop and post office, but it also housed a café run by volunteers which was the hub of the local community. Thanks to their help, Vera had been able to keep her post office going when it was under threat of closure.

      ‘That would be great, thanks,’ said Marianne, settling herself down at a creaky table by the window overlooking the village square, which allowed enough room for her to fit the buggy in. Luckily the twins appeared to have dozed off.

      ‘I’ll just give the cakes to Vera,’ said Pippa, ‘back in a minute.’

      She went over to the counter, handed over her cakes and ordered their drinks at the same time, before going back to join Marianne.

      ‘How are things?’ said Marianne. ‘Sorry I haven’t seen much of you since I’ve been back from London. As soon as I’m back in work mode, I don’t know what happens to the days. And yet when I’m home with the twins I couldn’t tell you what I do all day.’

      ‘I remember that feeling very well,’ laughed Pippa. ‘The upside of the kids getting bigger is that I do have a bit more time.’

      ‘Oh, and thanks for looking after Gabe when I was away,’ added Marianne. ‘He and Steven would probably have lived on baked beans if you hadn’t fed them every other night.’

      ‘Looking after Gabriel is my default position,’ laughed Pippa. ‘I’ve been doing it since he was a baby.’

      Though Pippa and Gabriel were cousins, having been brought up on neighbouring farms, they were closer than many siblings. Now that their respective parents had retired, Pippa and Dan ran one farm, and Gabriel the other, and each helped the other out when they could.

      ‘Have you heard any more about Lucy’s respite care?’ said Marianne. ‘I know you were waiting for a call before I went away.’

      Pippa pulled a face. ‘She’s only going to get monthly help instead of fortnightly, but at least they haven’t cancelled it altogether. For the moment the Sunshine Trust is still guaranteeing its respite care, but it’s only a matter of time. It’s a small independent centre which is mainly funded by charitable donations, and the respite care is funded by Social Services. With all the cuts I can see them pulling the plug.’

      ‘But that’s outrageous,’ said Marianne. ‘What will happen to all those families?’

      ‘I know,’ said Pippa. ‘It makes me so angry, but what can I do?’

      ‘Can you get together and find some private support?’

      ‘In this day and age?’ said Pippa. ‘No

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