“Would you fight for me?”
“You know I would. Tooth and nail.”
“I like it when you’re jealous,” she purred, curling up against him, her anger dissipating in the might of his devotion.
“That Argentine had better watch it. He’s not flirting with my girl.”
Clementine drove home with a sense of empowerment. She’d move in with Joe, and all her problems would be solved. She couldn’t think why she hadn’t thought of it before. It was the perfect solution to every problem. The CD player filled the car with the rousing music of Pixie Lott. She wound down the window and sang out into the night about what would her mama do.
She parked on the gravel and hurried across to the stable block. The light had been left on in the hall, but the rest of the house was dark. She grinned as she climbed the stairs two steps at a time. There’d be no more creeping in like a thief in the night. No more annoying questions at the breakfast table. No more having to share the same living space as her stepmother. She’d be free.
The following morning she announced her plans to her family over coffee and croissants. Marina was stunned. “Are you sure that’s what you want, Clemmie?”
“It’s absolutely what I want,” she replied emphatically.
“But do you love him?”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“It’s just rather quick.”
“Clemmie is rather quick,” quipped Jake.
“Look, I’m telling you, not asking for your opinions.”
Grey was more pliant. “Darling, if that’s what you want, then you have my blessing. No one knows better than you what will make you happy.”
“Thank you, Daddy.”
“Grey, I don’t think—”
“Darling, Clemmie is old enough to know what she’s doing.”
Marina looked at her stepdaughter in desperation. She wondered whether her fight with Rafa had anything to do with her decision. “Well, you can always come back if it doesn’t work out.”
“Thanks for your faith in me,” Clementine snapped.
“It’s a big deal, moving in with a man.”
“One step away from marriage,” Jake added helpfully.
“As if I’d get married after the fine example our parents set us.”
“That’s unfair,” said Marina.
“Oh, I don’t think it is. After the hell we went through, why on earth would I wish that on children I might have?”
Grey interjected. “Now, Clemmie, this is no time to start a row. I think it’s a very good idea that you move in with Joe and gain some independence. You’re a woman now, and it’s no business of ours what you do.”
“So that’s settled then,” Clemmie replied, getting up.
Marina noticed that she hadn’t eaten anything, but refrained from suggesting she take a croissant to eat in the office.
“So when are you planning to move out?” she asked.
“Tonight.”
“So soon?”
“What’s the hurry?” Jake asked.
“I want to be with Joe,” she replied. “I’m in love.” But her words sounded hollow even to her.
“Do you want any help packing?” Marina asked, knowing the answer before her stepdaughter turned on her angrily.
“For God’s sake, I’m not a child. I’ll do my own packing, thank you.”
They watched her march out of the room, slamming the front door behind her.
“They’re going to love her in the office this morning,” said Jake, pouring himself another cup of coffee.
“What’s got into her?” Grey asked.
“I think I know,” said Marina with a sigh.
“It’s great she’s moving out,” Jake added. “We won’t have to suffer her dark moods every morning.”
“She’s unhappy, Jake,” chided Marina, one eye still on the door, hoping Clementine might return through it any minute to apologize.
“The divorce happened a long time ago,” said Jake carelessly. “Shit happens, but hey, we’ve survived.”
“She’s chewing on an old bone,” said Grey wisely. “Try to take it away and she growls.”
The front door opened. However, it wasn’t Clementine who stepped into the hall but Bertha. Her habitual sigh was replaced by an exuberant smile.
Marina got up. “I feel sorry for her,” she said, taking her coffee cup to the sink.
“She’ll find her way,” said Grey, giving his wife a sympathetic smile.
Bertha bustled in, filling the kitchen with Anaïs Anaïs. “What’s got into Clemmie this morning? She very nearly ran me over.”