Leanne stood up. ‘I’ll tell her to stop bothering you. She gets bored when it’s too wet to get outside. But there’s not a lot I can do about it. Not unless old Ebenezer decides to plant a money tree.’
‘She’s not bothering me,’ I said, trying to sound as friendly as possible. I didn’t stand up to join her – and not just because my jeans were stuck to something that I really hoped wasn’t a blob of chewing gum. ‘I really like having her over. She’s been a great help training Nesbit while I get on with some work, too. I just wanted to check that you were okay with it. I’ve given her dinner a couple of times. It’s as easy to cook for two as for one, and to be honest this is my first time living alone, and I appreciate the company. I definitely don’t want any money or anything, far from it – but if you could do with someone to watch out for her while you’re working, I’m happy to help.’
Leanne took a step back and sagged against the wall behind her. Her head dropped, and for a moment I wondered if she was crying, but then she pushed back her shoulders and looked me straight in the eye.
‘If you don’t mind her hanging around, then that would be very helpful, thank you.’
‘Not at all. My mum raised me on her own. I know how hard it can be.’
Leanne gave one brief nod. ‘Let me know if she’s being a pain, though. Or does anything out of order. Send her right back again if she’s not behaving.’
I shook my head. ‘She’s always behaved brilliantly.’
Leanne folded her arms. ‘You must know something I don’t. I’ve lost track of how often school have dragged me in to tell me that she’s kicked off or told the teacher to stand further away because he smells like eggy farts.’
‘She didn’t!’
Leanne grimaced. ‘It was all I could do not to laugh, because it’s true.’
‘Well, maybe she’s fine at mine because she’s trying to impress Nesbit.’
‘Yeah. Maybe. Either way, I appreciate it.’ She shifted her gaze to the ceiling. ‘And the leftovers.’
‘You’re very welcome.’
I took a deep breath, deciding that after such a surprisingly positive conversation it was worth taking things one step further. ‘Um. Joan also mentioned that you’ve not been well. Is there—’
Leanne’s face instantly set like concrete. ‘Like I said, thanks for keeping an eye on Joan. As soon as I’ve a spot free, I’ll come and clean your house. But it’s been a long day and I need to spend some time with my girl.’
‘Of course. I’ll see myself out.’
Friday, I had back-to-back coaching sessions with Yasmin and then Trev. Usually I allowed half an hour between sessions, but I’d started telling Yasmin about Nesbit’s chicken theft, and her air of bleak sorrow had once again shifted to animation as she’d spent the next twenty minutes giving me an impromptu dog-training class.
‘You’re too nice, this is your problem!’ she cried, causing Irene Jenkins to flinch as though Yasmin had screamed in her ear. ‘If you act like a pushover then of course everyone is going to push you right over and trample on your face. Dogs especially.’
I cringed at the accuracy of her statement. Was it that obvious?
‘So what can I do about it?’ I asked. ‘I mean, when it comes to Nesbit.’
‘Show him that you are the boss!’ She pointed at the ceiling to emphasis the point. ‘Fun, kind, generous boss. But still the boss. He needs to respect you. Otherwise before you know it you’ll be feeding him steak and smoked salmon. You have to show him his place.’
‘I totally agree,’ a tiny woman bent over her walking stick said as she hobbled past. ‘Teach him who’s boss, and make sure he don’t forget it. A husband needs to stay in his place. Earn his steak.’
‘Um, that’s not actually…’ I tried to interrupt, but Trev, who had just appeared, got there first.
‘Excuse me,’ he said, folding bulging arms. ‘That’s a load of codswallop. How about mutual respect, love and understanding? What she said is verging on abusive, and to be honest, Ollie, I’m shocked you would sit here listening to this rubbish.’
Yasmin sprang to her feet, eyes blazing. ‘Abusive? How dare you accuse me of that! You never even met me before. I would never hurt a living creature. I don’t even touch the slugs in my vegetable pots.’
‘Oh, so now you’re comparing us to slugs?’ Trev shook his head in disgust. ‘If a man spoke about controlling a woman like that, we’d be locked up. And I speak from experience. I met enough men like you in prison to know where that attitude leads.’
Yasmin looked as though she was indeed on the verge of doing something abusive. ‘Men like me!’ she yelled. ‘Prison!’ She waved her hands around in frustration before jabbing one arm forward and poking Trev in his belly, which was about her shoulder height. ‘Take that back! This is nothing like the same and only an ignorant fool would say it is.’
I’d only met Trev twice before. I knew that none of his convictions had involved violence, but who knew what being poked and insulted might trigger. Besides, who knew what defensive skills Yasmin had picked up in her past. She might not be the one at risk here. I quickly got up and attempted to insert myself between them. ‘She was talking about dogs,’ I said firmly to Trev, before turning to Yasmin, holding my hands out to create some distance between them. ‘He overheard the woman say “husband”, and thought you were talking about men.’
‘What?’
‘Eh?’
My two ReadUp clients eyed each other suspiciously for a moment.
‘You thought I was saying a woman must be the boss of a man?’ Yasmin asked, eyes narrowed.
‘You thought I accused you of mistreating animals?’ Trev replied, his expression easing a millimetre.
‘Ollie’s dog stole a roast chicken off someone’s kitchen table,’ Yasmin replied.
‘What? Sounds like she needs to show it who’s in charge.’
‘Precisely!’ Yasmin said, folding her arms.
‘Ms Tennyson.’ An icy blast cut across the library as Irene Jenkins stomped towards us, her face mottled with indignation. ‘Explain… this!’
‘Oh, it was nothing to do with her,’ a now amused Trev responded. ‘Just a mix-up between this lady and myself. You see, I thought—’
‘I am not interested in what you thought,’ Irene ground out between clenched teeth. ‘What I see is Ms Tennyson’s clients on the brink of a public brawl in my library.’ She glared at me with eyes like deadly lasers. ‘Raised voices. Aggressive language. Physical assault. I don’t know where to begin. Not that I didn’t foresee this happening.’
‘Irene.’ I stepped to one side, hoping to draw her away for a private conversation before she revealed quite how prejudiced she was about ReadUp using the venue.
She didn’t follow me, instead breaking her own rules and raising her voice to ensure that I, and everyone else in the library, could hear. ‘I suggest that your next lesson is teaching them to read this.’ She held out a copy of the library rules. Or, more accurately, her unofficial, unenforceable library rules.
‘I shall of course be reporting this to my superior,’ she said, before marching back to the reception desk.