‘Well, you’ll be able to tell me all about it when you get back,’ Janice tells her.
The fear that Millie might not get back, that Jack will invent a broken-down car to keep her with us, or simply tell Janice and Mrs Goodrich that she has asked to stay on with us, makes it difficult for me to think straight. Aware of how little time I have to act, my mind races, looking for a way—not of stopping the ball from rolling, because it’s too late for that—but of diverting it from its path.
‘Why don’t you come too?’ I hear myself say to Janice. ‘Then you can see Millie’s bedroom for yourself.’
Millie claps her hands in delight. ‘Janice come too!’
Jack frowns. ‘I’m sure Janice has better things to do with her weekend.’
Janice shakes her head. ‘No, its fine, in fact I would love to see where Millie is going to live.’
‘Then could I ask you to bring her down?’ I ask hurriedly before Jack can dream up a reason for Janice not to come.
‘Of course I will! It would be silly for you and Mr Angel to drive all the way here only to go back again. It’s the least I can do. If you just give me your address …’
‘I’ll write it down for you,’ Jack says. ‘Do you have a pen?’
‘Not on me, I’m afraid.’ Janice looks at my bag. ‘Do you have one?’
I don’t even pretend to look. ‘Sorry,’ I say apologetically.
‘No problem, I’ll just pop and get one.’
She leaves. Painfully aware of Jack’s eyes boring into me, I’m unable to answer the questions Millie fires excitedly at me about her forthcoming visit to our house. His fury at the way I’ve invited Janice along is tangible and I know I’m going to have to come up with an excellent and believable reason as to why I did. But if Janice brings Millie down, there is the unspoken assumption that she’ll be going back with her and therefore less chance for Jack to manipulate things so that she ends up staying on with us.
Janice returns with pen and paper and Jack writes down our address and hands it to her. She folds the paper and puts it in her pocket and, maybe because she’s used to us cancelling things at the last minute, confirms that the invitation is for the following Sunday, 2 May. When I hear the date, something occurs to me and I find myself grabbing at it with both hands.
‘I’ve just had a thought—why don’t we make it the Sunday after instead?’ Millie’s face falls and I turn to her quickly. ‘Then we’ll be able to celebrate your eighteenth birthday at the same time. It’s on the tenth,’ I remind her. ‘Would you like that, Millie? Would you like a party in your new house?’
‘With cake?’ she asks. ‘And balloons?’
‘With cake, candles, balloons, everything,’ I say, hugging her.
‘What a lovely idea!’ exclaims Janice, as Millie squeals in delight.
‘It will also give us time to get the house completely finished,’ I add, thrilled at the way I’ve managed to buy myself more time. ‘What do you think, Jack?’
‘I think it’s an excellent idea,’ he says. ‘How very clever of you to have thought of it. Now, shall we go? It’s getting late and there’s something we need to do tonight, isn’t there, darling?’
Dread replaces the joy I felt only minutes before at having outsmarted him, as he can only be referring to one thing. Not wanting him to see how much his words have affected me, I turn and kiss Millie goodbye.
‘We’ll see you next Sunday,’ I tell her, despite knowing that Jack will never allow me to come in view of my invitation to Janice. ‘Meanwhile, I’ll start getting things ready for your party. Is there anything special you’d like?’
‘Big cake,’ she laughs. ‘Very big cake.’
‘I’ll make sure Grace makes you the most beautiful cake in the world,’ Jack promises.
‘I like you, Jack,’ she beams.
‘But you don’t like George Clooney,’ he finishes. He turns to Janice. ‘In fact, she dislikes him so much that she asked Grace to kill him.’
‘Not funny, Millie,’ Janice frowns.
‘She was joking with you, Jack,’ I say calmly, knowing that he understands just how much Millie hates being reprimanded.
‘Still, you shouldn’t joke about things like that.’ Janice is firm. ‘Do you understand, Millie? I wouldn’t like to have to tell Mrs Goodrich.’
‘I sorry,’ says Millie, her face crestfallen.
‘I think you’ve been listening to too many Agatha Christie stories,’ Janice goes on sternly. ‘No more for a week, I’m afraid.’
‘I shouldn’t have said anything,’ Jack says contritely, as tears well up in Millie’s eyes. ‘I didn’t mean to get her into trouble.’
I bite back the angry retort that springs to my lips, surprised that I had even thought of contradicting him. It’s something I stopped doing long ago, especially in public.