Love and Devotion by Erica James Page B

buried his face in his silky.
    Harriet had to steel herself. She hated it when he cried. It made her want to cry too. ‘That’s okay,’ she said quietly. ‘Promise you won’t tell anyone, but I don’t like Mrs Thompson either. The good news is that you’ll hardly see anything of her. She’s a headmistress, which means she has to sit behind a big desk every day and write lots of boring letters and ring the bell for break-time and lessons.’
    He peered over the top of his silky. ‘Really?’
    ‘For sure. Come on, we’d better catch up with the others.’
    She should have felt relieved that yet another crisis had been averted, but all she felt was exhaustion. Was that how it was going to be for the next thirteen and a half years? Thirteen and a half long years until Joel was eighteen and legally no longer her responsibility. She’d get less for murder.
     
    That evening, and while her mother was upstairs supervising the children’s bedtime, Harriet helped her father clear away supper. The children were now at least eating and the return of their appetites did mean Harriet and her parents had one less worry.
    The subject of school hadn’t been discussed during the meal, yet it was clear it had to be very much on Carrie’s and Joel’s minds. Tomorrow Harriet was taking them to buy the necessary items of school uniform.
    As the last of the plates was stacked in the dishwasher, Bob said, ‘Harriet, I want to talk to you.’
    It sounded ominous and at once Harriet was worried that it was about her mother. Was Mum’s ME getting worse? ‘What is it, Dad?’
    ‘Don’t look so worried. Come and sit down with me.’
    She did as he said.
    Sitting opposite her, he said, ‘I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, and your mother and I certainly aren’t criticising you, but — ’
    The ‘but’ hung in the air.
    ‘But what?’
    He took a fortifying breath. ‘Your mother and I are worried. We think that perhaps you’re — ’
    Another hesitant pause.
    Tired? Depressed? Thoroughly cheesed off that her life had hit the skids so spectacularly? Not to mention that she was homeless. Jobless. Boyfriendless. No, strike that one from the record. Spencer didn’t come into it. Compared to everything else, his cowardly selfishness didn’t even register.
    ‘We think you’re a little too hard on the children.’
    Harriet sat back in her chair. What the hell did that mean?
    ‘Oh, dear, we knew you wouldn’t take it well. I told your mother — ’
    ‘Dad, it’s not a matter of taking it well; it’s a matter of understanding. I haven’t a clue what I’m being accused of.’
    ‘We’re not accusing you of anything.’
    ‘Sounds like it to me. So come on, tell me what I’ve done wrong.’
    ‘It’s your manner. You’re so short with them. So brusque. We’re worried that you’re scaring them. Adding to their problems. There’s a chance you might be making things worse. Especially for Joel.’
    Just then the telephone rang. With a look of relief, Bob went to answer it.
    Left on her own, Harriet stared at the table. The injustice of her father’s remarks made her head throb, and claustrophobia crushed in on her. She stood up abruptly. She had to get out of the house. Within seconds, she was hurtling down the drive and across the road, heading for the footpath and the canal. As a teenager it was where she had always gone when she was annoyed or upset. The soothing stillness of the water usually calmed her.
    Right now she was far from calm. Boiling over with fury, she could hardly breathe at the unfairness of it. After all the sacrifices she had made, her parents had the nerve to criticise her. How could they turn on her? Was it her fault that she wasn’t the maternal type? Not for the first time she wondered why the hell her sister had thought she would be any good at raising her children.
    At the end of the footpath she was about to go right but changed her mind when she saw a row of fishermen, their lines