She used to work as a legal secretary for a solicitor in Fedborough but had given up when Rhona had to move into Waggoners. She was now a full-time carer for her mother. Whether that put pressure on the family income, Jude didn’t know. Certainly, she never heard the subject mentioned.
Mother and daughter were so used to Jude’s presence in the house that, having acknowledged her, Shannon continued as though there was no third person present. Jude just got on with her palliative care and listened.
‘God,’ said Shannon, ‘there are some bloody stupid people out there.’
‘What, is this the meeting you’ve just come from, love?’
‘Too right, Mum. You know, I told you it was a fundraising committee for the Green Party and, like, we were throwing around some ideas for making money and this one elderly idiot – I don’t know what his name is but he’s clearly got more money than sense – anyway, he suggests raising sponsorship for some trip he’s taking. OK, what kind of trip, we ask. And he only tells us that it’s some big rally – hundreds of SUVs driving from London to Saudi Arabia or somewhere. And he says he’s got lots of wealthy chums who’d sponsor him to complete the course and raise lots of the old mazuma. That’s what he actually said – “lots of the old mazuma”. Where did he get that from? And I say, “You do know who we’re trying to raise money for, don’t you?” And he says, “Yes. The Green Party.” And I say, “Duh. Don’t you see something kind of wrong about raising money to protect the environment by driving highly polluting vehicles for thousands of unnecessary miles?” And he just doesn’t get it. He gets all shirty and says, “I was only trying to help. I do have some very well-heeled friends who could do your cause a lot of good”, and he looks at me like I’ve just strangled his favourite puppy. What an idiot! I just cannot bloody believe it.’
‘They don’t understand people with principles, do they? And you’ve always had principles, haven’t you, Shannon?’ Rhona condescended to include Jude in the conversation. ‘Right from when she was a little girl, Shannon had principles, you know. It was about animals then. Shannon couldn’t bear to see an animal hurt. Could you, Shannon?’
Shannon agreed that she couldn’t.
‘Used to save up your pocket money to give to the RSPCA, didn’t you, love?’
Shannon agreed to this too.
‘And then, as she got older, Shannon realized that doing harm to animals was part of something much bigger, which was doing harm to the environment. And now she devotes a lot of time and energy to the Green Party. You do, don’t you?’
Shannon could not deny it.
‘Which obviously makes her domestic situation very difficult.’
‘Sorry? Why?’ If Jude was going to be part of the conversation, she might as well ask when she didn’t understand something.
‘Well, you see, her marriage …’
‘There’s nothing wrong with my marriage,’ said Shannon, in the weary tone of someone who has rehearsed these arguments many times before.
‘You say that … and you’re always very loyal to Billy … more loyal, to my mind than you need to be … but the fact remains that you’re now in an impossible moral situation.’
‘Mum, it isn’t a case of—’
‘Like I always say, if you’d gone to university, you could be a lawyer now, not just a secretary. You could be a lawyer specializing in taking to task all those multinational petrochemical companies …’ The alternative life Rhona had built up for her daughter didn’t lack for detail. ‘Then you could feel that you’re doing some good. Which, of course, you can’t, having got married so early …’
‘Mu-um …’ said Shannon plaintively
‘… and marrying someone whose work involves supporting the petrochemical industries. Selling petrol, for a start, and then repairing cars and encouraging people to go out and spread pollution all over the place.’
‘Mum, please. Jude doesn’t want to hear all this.’
The Jude in question didn’t mind, actually. She was permanently curious about her fellow human beings, and constantly amazed by the diversity of their interests and behaviour. The work she did gave her unrivalled access to the lives of others.
‘Well, I speak as I find,’ said Rhona. Her daughter’s reaction showed it was another line she heard with considerable frequency.
But Rhona hadn’t finished needling. She should have realized by now that nothing she said was going to bring down her daughter’s marriage, but she still had to keep chipping away at its foundations. ‘You know Billy’s plans for the garage, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ said Shannon wearily.
‘He was talking to me about them only yesterday,’ Rhona persisted. ‘He makes no secret of them. One of my Fethering friends heard him sounding off about them in the Crown and Anchor. When he gets control of Shefford’s, he wants to turn it into a dealership with one of the big companies; a foreign one – Nissan, Toyota, Honda, one of those Eastern ones. Billy reckons that’s where the money’s going to be in the future. He says there’s no profit in filling cars with petrol and doing repairs.’
‘Mum …’ said Shannon with a long-suffering sigh, ‘Billy’s told me all this. I know what his plans are.’
‘Yes, but Jude doesn’t know, does she?’
Jude thought it rather strange that she was being brought in to help in the demolition of Rhona’s son-in-law. It wasn’t a position she particularly relished, but she kept quiet.
‘Anyway, it’s all going to change soon,’ said Shannon.
‘What’s all going to change?’
‘The motor industry. In twenty years’ time, there won’t be any fossil fuels. If Billy does get his dealership, he won’t be selling petrol-driven cars. They’ll all be electric.’
‘So they say,’ Rhona intoned darkly. ‘The politicians. Mind you, politicians will say anything if it’s going to squeeze out one more vote for them.’ Shannon’s face suggested this was also a view she’d heard expressed many times before.
Her mother went on the offensive again. ‘And how do you reckon your Billy will manage, converting Shefford’s to all-electric? He’s never been good at change, has he?’
‘He’ll cope,’ said Shannon. ‘Anyway, the future at the garage is all rather in the air at the moment.’
‘Oh yes,’ said Rhona. ‘Since Billy’s dad married the Chink, you mean?’
As she left Waggoners, Jude could not help feeling a surge of sympathy for Billy Shefford, caught in a pincer movement between a wife who disapproved of the work he did and a mother-in-law who disapproved of him full stop.
No wonder he spent a certain amount of time sounding off in the Crown and Anchor.
FOUR
Carole’s skills at blanking things out were finite. However determinedly she tried not to think about the attack on her Renault, nagging anxieties kept on invading her mind. It wasn’t the smashed glass that caused them – she had come to terms with that – it was the note through the kitchen door, the note that changed a random act of violence into targeted aggression. The temptation to talk about it, to tell Jude what had happened, was strong. Except, of course, that would probably have meant owning up to her inefficiency over the car insurance. Not to mention her stupidity in burning the vital evidence. No, she’d have to bottle it up. And Carole Seddon was very practised in bottling things up.
She was also very practised in being slow to change her habits. Everything new she approached with suspicion. For many years, she had resisted computer technology. It was the same with mobile phones and, currently, using the camera function.
Then again, for a long time, when in Jude’s company, the two of them had drunk Chilean Chardonnay. And when they came to the mutual conclusion that Sauvignon Blanc was much nicer, it still felt wrong to Carole. Although she wondered how they had apparently enjoyed the Chardonnay for so long, she did feel a pang almost of betrayal at a bar when ordering Sauvignon Blanc.