‘Have you double-locked the front door?’
Una looks up in surprise to see Kathryn standing there. She puts her hand to her heart. ‘Oh – you scared me.’
Kathryn doesn’t say anything. She continues down the stairs and, ignoring Una, waltzes past her. She tries the door. Just as she thought, it hasn’t been bolted. ‘What is wrong with you?’ Kathryn hisses, all the resentment and fear building up and spilling out of her. ‘How many times have I told you to double-lock the door, for fuck’s sake?’
Una stands up, her boots in one hand. Even in the dark Kathryn can see that the younger girl looks mortified. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t think …’
‘You have to be responsible,’ continues Kathryn, in the same angry whisper. ‘My mother doesn’t want a bloody burglar alarm but surely even you can see this house is a target.’
‘I … yes … I suppose –’
‘If you forget to do it again I’ll have no choice but to give you a disciplinary warning.’ The words are out before Kathryn has thought about them. What is she even saying? Her mother has the last word on her staff – but there can’t be any harm in scaring the girl a little.
Una hangs her head, her long hair falling in front of her face. She’s so small and she looks so vulnerable standing there in her socks, with a hole in the big toe of one, and her coat that is a little large for her. Kathryn knows she’s being a bitch but she can’t help it.
‘I don’t want to have to keep waiting up for you just to make sure you’ve done it,’ she says, aware that she sounds like a nag.
‘It won’t happen again, I promise.’ Una tucks her hair behind her ears.
Kathryn strides past her. ‘Good. See you in the morning.’ She stops at the bottom of the stairs and turns to Una. ‘And, really, one o’clock on a work night is a little late to be coming home.’
Una juts out her chin. ‘It won’t have any impact on my ability to do my job,’ she says levelly.
‘I hope not. Good night.’ And then Kathryn climbs the stairs and goes into her bedroom, making sure to close the door behind her.
The next morning Una is quiet at breakfast, and looks pale beneath her barely there makeup. Kathryn watches her across the table as she pushes a sausage around her plate and can’t help but feel a little smug that Una is obviously suffering. Maybe now she’ll think twice about staying out so late on a work night cavorting with handsome ex-employees. She should have known when she gave Una Lewis’s number that they’d end up on a date.
Her mother is chattering away. She’s in a good mood this morning. Yesterday she wasn’t. Yesterday she listed all the things that Kathryn does to annoy her, including holding her arm too tightly when they walk down the street and making her tea too ‘builders’. There were numerous times yesterday when Kathryn wished she was back in the gallery with the effervescent Daisy rather than listening to her mother’s never-ending criticisms, all of which seemed to scream, ‘You’re not Viola!’
She watches as her mother laughs at something Una says, throwing her head back so that Kathryn can see down her pink throat. She can’t bear to witness her mother’s obvious devotion.
Kathryn puts her knife and fork down with a clatter, and clears her throat. ‘How are you feeling this morning, Una?’ she asks, her voice ringing out clearly in the large kitchen. Aggie has stopped bustling around and has now joined them with a cup of tea.
‘Ooh, did you go out last night, ducky?’ Aggie’s button eyes assess Una fondly. It makes Kathryn’s blood boil. Even the lovable Aggie is smitten by her.
‘She did,’ interjects Kathryn, before Una has a chance to speak. ‘She was on a date. With Lewis.’
It has the desired effect. The others fall silent. Even the normally tactless Aggie seems surprised.
Her mother’s demeanour changes in a flash, just as Kathryn had known it would.
Her cold blue eyes glint dangerously and Kathryn can hardly contain her glee. ‘You went out with Lewis? As in our ex-gardener, Lewis?’
Una looks even paler than she did earlier, if that’s possible. ‘Um … not a date, exactly. I was … it was just to …’ She appears to have run out of words.
‘We’re all ears,’ says Kathryn, leaning forward on her elbows.
Una shifts in her chair. ‘There’s nothing to say, really.’
Kathryn smiles. ‘I did wonder why you wanted his number. I don’t blame you, he’s a good-looking guy.’
Una reddens and her mother looks sickened. ‘That’s enough, Kathryn,’ she snaps. ‘You’re old enough to be his mother. And, Una, I’m surprised at you. I thought you had more taste.’ She pushes her chair back with such force that the legs screech across the limestone tiles. She stands up. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a headache. I’m going to rest in the sitting room. If you could bring me up a cup of tea, Una, I’d be grateful.’
‘Of course,’ mumbles Una, from behind her hair. Her cheeks are still pink.
They don’t speak until Elspeth has left the room. Kathryn watches her mother’s stiff back, and how steady she is on her feet today. ‘Well,’ she says, finishing her coffee, ‘I’d better be off. Have a good day.’
She smiles to herself as she leaves the house, knowing Una’s day is ruined.
Jacob is waiting on the stairs when she returns, dressed in his school uniform. The black blazer looks smart on the other kids but for some reason never does on her son, probably because he walks like an ape. His navy blue regulation rucksack is by his feet. It looks empty. She knows better than to ask him about it if she doesn’t want to get her head bitten off.
‘You’re late,’ he says, as soon as she steps inside the hallway. She isn’t. She’s never late.
‘Where’s your father and Harry?’
‘Harry’s on a sleepover and Dad’s gone to work.’
‘Harry’s on a sleepover? On a school night? Who decided that?’
Jacob stands up. He’s so tall, he towers over her now. ‘Dad did. You’re never here.’
‘I was with Grandma.’
‘You’re always with Grandma.’
‘She’s old. She needs looking after.’