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Back Just the Way You Are Save as PDF
Chapters (42)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. Acknowledgments
  39. Author’s Note
  40. More from Beth Moran
  41. About the Author
  42. About Boldwood Books

She stood up, handing me the mug. ‘The landlord won’t sort them while I’m two months behind on rent. Joan needed school shoes and trainers. I wanted her to have a phone so she could call me if anything happened while I’m at work. A week later, the old washer broke and I got one of them loans out to replace it, only the second-hand one I bought lasted six washes. Now I have interest I can’t pay, one of my clients refused to pay me for last month’s work because I failed to meet her impossible standards, and another one just fired me for being drunk on the job.’

What?

‘I haven’t drunk a drop since the day I left that scumbag Archer. I was feeling lightheaded and they caught me at the wrong moment.’

I had no answers for Leanne. I couldn’t tell her that it would be okay. Clearly, things were far from okay.

And as for being wrongfully fired – I so wanted her to be telling the truth, for her to be the woman who’d found the guts and the grit to walk away. Who then, in a cruel twist of fate, simply got ill, as if life hadn’t been hard enough.

I wanted to believe Leanne – to believe in her. But if she was a woman living in the grip of substance abuse, who’d spent all her money feeding her addiction, hoping to dupe the gullible neighbour into feeling sorry for her and helping her out? Well – wouldn’t she say exactly the same thing?

I went to bed that night full of disturbing questions. Should I give Leanne the benefit of the doubt, ignoring my growing unease on the basis of one conversation? Or should I assume the worst, hand over my concerns to someone in authority, and potentially start a sequence of events that – should Leanne be telling the truth – would wreak yet more devastation on a woman and a little girl who had already faced more than enough?

It was a long night.

15

After the conversation with Leanne, it was inevitable that I’d wake up with Mum on my mind. To be honest, I thought about her far more than I wanted to.

I would often make a mental note to tell her something – if someone was rude to me, or a funny incident happened, or I had a mini-victory with an issue to do with the cottage. And then I’d remember that, even if I did phone or message to tell her, she wouldn’t be interested. Not unless she could twist it to revolve around her, and how I had made her feel.