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enough to leave home. More than. You’re welcome to house him, though, if you’re worried about him. I’m sure Tasha will enjoy picking up his dirty washing and ironing his shirts. Or you could lend him the money for his bond. He owes me too much for me to lend him another penny.’
    ‘You’re definitely being petty.’
    ‘Maybe I’m just seeing things more clearly. Our son is twenty-four and in full-time employment, so he’ll probably survive. Of course he’ll have to cut down on his boozing and clubbing to pay for a flat and the various services like electricity – and he’ll have to do his own cooking and washing too, poor thing.’
    Dead silence, then, ‘But you said you wanted to go on living there. You wept all over the arbitrator about that.’
    ‘The main thing the arbitrator took into account was the fact that it was me who’d inherited the house and the mortgage was only for the extensions you had insisted on. All of which you’d left out of your financial settlement statements.’
    ‘I did offer to buy the house off you.’
    She laughed. ‘At a knock-down price, way below the market value. I did have enough sense to check that. But if you still want to make an offer – a realistic offer – I’ll let you have the name of my estate agent.’
    Silence, then. ‘Do that. Or . . . we could cut out the estate agent and save both of us some money.’
    ‘And then you could find some other way to cheat me? What do they say? Cheat me once, shame on you. Cheat me twice, shame on me. No, Craig, I’m selling through an estate agent, and if you’re interested, you’ll have to compete with everyone else.’
    ‘ If anyone wants to buy it.’
    ‘It’s in a really good area with top schools nearby. The house down the road sold in the first week it was on the market. Lavengro Road is a quiet, leafy street. People love living here and don’t often move away. Anyway, I’ve a lot to do, so please ask Tasha to contact Geneva and give Brian my message. He’ll have to get someone to fetch his things. I meant what I said about having them dumped at your place tomorrow.’ She put the phone down.
    It upset her that she and Craig couldn’t even hold a short conversation without bickering. ‘No, you don’t!’ she told herself fiercely as tears welled in her eyes. She’d wept and dithered enough. More than enough.
    Two hours later Brian rang. ‘Mum? What’s happening?’
    ‘You’ve moved out.’
    ‘No, I haven’t.’
    ‘Let me put it another way. You – have been moved – out of my house – by me.’
    ‘But it’s my home . I’ve not got anywhere else to live.’
    ‘I’m sure your father will put you up till you find a flat.’
    Silence, then, ‘He won’t. And anyway, I can’t afford a flat.’
    ‘Too bad. Not my problem.’
    ‘Why are you doing this?’
    ‘Remember the wedding, how I collapsed? I was bad enough for them to keep me in hospital overnight. No one in my family came to the hospital with me, or even rang up to find out how I was. Not one of you.’
    Silence, then, ‘Oh. I’m sorry. Really. I didn’t think it was serious. Look, can’t you at least wait till I get back from my holiday and we’ll sort something out? Surely I can stay there till the house is sold?’
    ‘No, you can’t. I’m too angry. And you owe me some rent and housekeeping money, too. I’ll make up an account.’
    She heard a yelp, silence, then, ‘No wonder Dad left you. I didn’t believe him when he said that underneath that sweetness and light you’re a mercenary bitch. He really wanted that house, you know.’
    She sucked in a sharp breath. Was that what Craig was saying about her? Somehow she kept her voice steady. ‘Nice to know you believed him, Brian. You don’t know me very well, do you?’
    Silence, and she couldn’t bear it any longer. ‘Anyway, I’ll definitely arrange to have your things dumped at your father’s house tomorrow if no one picks them up before three o’clock.