‘Worth getting up at seven for?’ asked Rocco in passing. Mike, quite reasonably, looked mystified.
‘It’s a close call,’ said Cass. ‘Did you get to the airport on time?’
Rocco pushed the bowl of vegetables in her direction. ‘Certainly did. Your mum was going to pick them up, but you know what her driving is like.’ He tipped his hand sharply left and right.
Nita made as if to hit him with the spoon.
‘Oh, come on, Nita. Last time we went to Stansted you reversed over some poor bugger’s hand luggage and then drove off with both back doors open,’ said Rocco, topping up Cass’s wine glass.
At which point Nita hit him with the spoon. ‘You are such a liar. Here baby, take the last of the potatoes…’
Supper at their house contained more nurturing in one evening than most women got in a lifetime.
‘And be fair,’ continued Nita. ‘Rocco’s enough to drive Francis of Assisi to drink. Nag, nag, nag, look out for this, did you see that, mind that cyclist. Don’t drive in the middle of the road…He would drive anyone loco. Talking of which, Rocco tells me that you and the All Stars are off on tour?’
‘Um,’ said Cass, through a mouthful of sauce, ‘A fortnight today. You are coming to the concert, aren’t you? Rocco—you did tell her, didn’t you?’
The pair of them nodded. ‘As if we’d miss it,’ said Rocco. Cass couldn’t work out quite just how much of that was sarcasm. ‘We can get you a ticket if you want to come along too, Mike, can’t we Cass?’ continued Rocco.
Cass glared at him—not that Rocco noticed.
‘That sounds great. Where are you going on tour?’ Mike asked.
‘Cyprus. Seven days of singing with our lot and about twenty-five other choirs. It’s their first a cappella festival. I know it sounds nuts but it’ll be great. We’ve got some workshops and rehearsals together, a few performances and lot of sun, sea, singing and…’
All three of them looked expectantly in her direction, waiting for the pay-off line. Cass reddened and held up her hands. ‘It’s a competition—the winning choir gets a trip to the States. We’re going to be singing in a Roman amphitheatre.’
‘Really—well, sounds like fun,’ said Mike, politely.
‘Sounds way, way too Butlins to me. So what’s happening to the pooch, the puss and the old hacienda while you’re away?’ Rocco asked casually.
‘Kennels, cattery and most probably closing down for a few days. The boys are both at Uni at the moment—not that I’d ask them to come home and house-sit. They’d eat me out of house and home and leave the place wrecked. And Jacko’s busy—that’s a local guy who helps me out in the shop,’ she added for Mike’s benefit. ‘Besides, I need a break, and business is usually slow at this time of the year anyway. People will ring if they want anything special.’
She and Mike had already had the, So you’re an architect, how very interesting conversation, followed by the Rocco tells me you’re an interior designer section, to which Cass had added the actually these days I mostly restore and sell old furniture speech, so at least he was up to speed with her professional life.
‘And people will come back. I’ll put a sign in the window.’
‘How very twenty-first century…’ said Rocco, steepling his fingers. ‘We’ve been discussing this, haven’t we Nita? How about if we stepped into the breach for you?’
‘What do you mean? I wasn’t aware there was any breach?’ Cass said suspiciously.
‘Y’know, pick up the pinny, mind the fort,’ said Rocco.
‘Do you mean run the shop?’
Her mother and Rocco did some very slick synchronised nodding.
Cass stared at the pair of them. ‘Because?’
‘Actually, it would just be me during the day,’ said her mother apologetically. ‘Well, most days, and I couldn’t promise it would be every day, but we can look after the animals, can’t we Rocco? I’ve always wanted a cat. And Buster loves us.’
‘And while we’re at it, we wondered if we could maybe borrow your house as well.’
‘Because?’
‘Well, because first of all we can keep an eye on the place,’ said Nita. ‘I mean, you always have nice things there. Very nice things, according to Rocco.’
Cass held tight to Rocco’s shifting gaze. He reddened.
Mike meanwhile looked backwards and forwards, as if he’d got good seats at centre court.
‘And this whole thing about having the roof off. I mean, we all know it’s going to be great when it’s done, French windows coming off the sitting room onto a roof terrace—great views. Mike’s done an amazing job with the plans, haven’t you Mike? I did tell you that we’ve got to have the roof off, didn’t I?’ Rocco said after a few seconds.
‘I think you may have mentioned it.’
‘Well, they’re going to take the old chimney stack down at the same time, and our builder has got a gap in his schedule and he said if we can stand the noise and the chaos he’ll come and do the roof before the bad weather sets in. I said to your mother that we should have had it done before we had the kitchen, really…’
‘I didn’t know how bad it was, did I? I mean I had no idea—really. I’m not a builder…’
Before they started a full-scale spat, Cass said, ‘Which would be in a couple of weeks’ time, would it? The roof coming off?’
Rocco, cornered, nodded. Mike was about to say something but Cass cut across him. ‘Which would make me being away convenient,’ she suggested.
‘The thing is Cass, we’re prepared to work round you, aren’t we, Rocco?’ said Nita, shovelling the last of the sautéed potatoes onto her plate.
‘They’re taking the roof off, not taking the house down,’ said Cass.
‘You know how much I hate noise,’ said her mother.
‘And dust,’ said Rocco. ‘I mean, can you imagine what it’s going to be like? Kango drills, brick rubble, hairy-arsed builders lolling on around sacks of cement reading the Sun. And you know your mum works from home. The studio is going to be knee deep in rubble.’
‘We were planning to just sheet everything down and move into a hotel or something.’
Rocco nodded in agreement. ‘That’s right, and we’ve booked industrial cleaners for when they’ve finished.’
Mike had the good sense to say nothing.
Cass shook her head. ‘You’ll need to get industrial cleaners in before you move into my place.’
‘That’s not true, sweetie,’ said her mum. ‘Your place is really lovely—so cosy. Rocco was telling me about the choir trip and said you were going to be away for the week. And we just thought—’
‘We wouldn’t be any trouble,’ said Rocco.
‘We thought we’d be doing you a favour.’
Cass looked from one to the other. ‘I should have known that there’s no such thing as a free lunch. This is a done deal, isn’t it? The pair of you have set me up.’
‘No, no of course not,’ Rocco said. ‘As if—think of it more as a happy coincidence, providence smiling on us all. Your mother has always fancied running a shop. What do you reckon then, sound like a good idea?’
‘I mean tell us honestly, what do you think?’ said Nita.