Page 19 of The Good Girl

Chapter Eighteen

Dee had her AirPods in, listening to a playlist on low, that jumped from Billie Eilish to Olivia Rodrigo, the kind of sad-girl soundtrack she usually reserved for rainy days or when her mum and Shane were sucking the joy out of life by just being in the same house together.

She heard Magda before she spotted her, the buzz of the scooter carrying on the summer air.

There she was, zooming along the opposite side of the road, colourful plaits like a rainbow tail streaming from beneath her daisy-covered helmet.

She waved, both feet briefly off the stand like a circus act, and Dee grinned, lifting one hand in return.

Magda always made her smile. She was the best part of coming home.

Everything at the house ran better when Magda was there.

It felt like it had when her dad was alive.

Calm. Warm. Predictable. Magda had routines and secret stashes of biscuits and cake.

She knew when to be a silent companion and when to tease.

She made hot chocolate from scratch and folded Dee’s laundry with scented pouches tucked in the corners.

Dee couldn’t really remember her dad that well anymore.

Not properly. Just flashes. The way he’d lift her up so high her stomach dropped.

The sound of his laugh. But she wasn’t sure if those memories were derived from the photos dotted around the house and in her room.

Or the videos Molly had collated for her and were in one big album on her phone. And then there was Magda.

Magda told stories. About how Ronnie had given her and Erik jobs even though they spoke barely a word of English when they arrived.

How he’d helped them find a flat when he found out they were living in a shared house with three other families.

He’d loaned them the rent and deposit and then again for their first car when they had no credit.

All the workers at ClearGlass respected Ronnie because he was self-made and knew his business from the ground up.

Erik still worked there, a senior foreman who said he owed Ronnie for giving him a chance and a new life.

Dee loved the part of the story where Magda had become friends with Julia and was thrilled when she was asked to be housekeeper.

It made Dee proud. Part of a good, kind family, something to aspire to and maybe one day she’d be able to do nice things for people, too.

It gave her a warm feeling inside knowing everyone adored her dad. Especially Molly.

Molly had that shelf in her room. Like a shrine.

Photos and souvenirs and that one jumper she refused to let anyone wash because she said it still smelled of him which Dee reckoned was impossible.

There weren’t many pictures of Ronnie downstairs anymore.

Not since Shane moved in. Dee understood.

It must be weird, trying to live up to a dead man everyone talked about like a saint.

She reached the end of the road, where the tall hedges curved back to reveal the electric gates.

They were already sliding open, silent and smooth, like a magician’s trick.

The house sat behind them. It had been designed and built by her mum and dad.

They had knocked down the one that stood there before and built their new home from scratch.

Every window glinted in the last of the sun.

It looked peaceful. Dee’s stomach unclenched a little.

She was tired and was looking forward to a shower and some comfys, then an evening with her mum like she’d promised.

Just as she stepped through the gates, she spotted Shane. He was by his car, throwing his overnight bag into the boot with a force that told her he was angry. His posture was stiff. Maybe he was running late. Or maybe he’d had a row with her mum after all.

Dee hesitated. He turned and saw her. The frown melted. Replaced by that smile he always gave her. The one that made her feel so special.

‘Hey, DeeDee,’ he said, walking toward her. ‘You all right?’

‘Yeah,’ she said, but the question slipped out before she could stop it. ‘What’s wrong?’

His smile stayed in place, but it thinned. ‘Nothing serious. Your mum’s just… had a bit too much wine. I put her to bed so she can sleep it off.’

Dee blinked. ‘Is she okay?’

‘She’s fine. Just tired. You know how she gets when she’s had one too many.’

Dee nodded. She did know. When her mum drank too much, she got snappy, silly, or sometimes weepy. Once, she’d shouted at Alexa for talking too loud.

‘Hey. Don’t look so worried. I haven’t said anything,’ Shane added, dropping his voice like it was a secret between them. ‘About the email. That’s our secret, remember?’

Dee nodded quickly, relief washing over her. ‘Good. I was worried you’d had a row because of me… so I suppose our girls’ night is off. We were going to get a takeaway and watch a film.’

‘Were you? Look, why don’t you order something anyway and chill in your room and then when I get back tomorrow night we can do something together. Have a Friday night feast and a movie. How does that sound?’

She looked up at him, finding comfort and confidence in his expression, the way he always seemed in control and made the sun come out with the simplest idea.

Unlike her mum, who lately looked like she was miles away and living in the dreariest place in the world, and no wonder.

She was obviously plotting to get rid of Shane with Aunty Nancy.

‘Okay, maybe I could take her something to eat later on.’

‘I’d leave her be,’ he said. ‘Let her sleep it off. She’ll be better in the morning but if you need me, just ring, I’ll be on hands-free while I’m driving, okay?’

Dee nodded, feeling reassured. He reached out, touched her chin with one finger, tilting her face up gently. Her cheeks flushed. She didn’t know why, exactly. Only that his praise and attention and touch always made her feel like she’d swallowed happy medicine.

He winked, stepped back, and slid behind the wheel. ‘Love you, DeeDee,’ he called through the window.

‘Love you too,’ she replied automatically.

Then he was gone. She stood there for a moment, watching the red taillights disappear around the bend.

When she entered the house, it was totally still and had an empty feel.

She made her way upstairs, the door to her mother’s suite was closed.

She dithered for a moment. Should she go up or do as Shane said and leave her to sleep it off?

The rumble in her tummy made the decision for her.

Instead, she threw her things into her room, used the loo and then went back downstairs to the kitchen and made herself a milkshake.

Chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows.

She climbed onto the counter and scrolled her phone.

An old video popped up from last term. Someone had drawn a really rude image on Mr Fletcher’s whiteboard with permanent marker. She laughed, then sighed.

What was going to happen to her family? She had friends who’d told her all about family dramas with stepparents who didn’t care. Dads who forgot birthdays. Divorces and screaming matches. Courts and social workers. Dee couldn’t bear all that.

Surely, if it came to it, Shane wouldn’t be like them.

He wouldn’t let her down because he really understood her.

He listened. He didn’t roll his eyes when she talked about music or global warming and how much she loved dolphins.

He made her feel important. Sometimes he said she reminded him of Molly when she was younger.

That made Dee feel nice because to her, Molly was perfect, most of the time anyway.

She remembered how he bought her a bracelet last Christmas, just a small thing, but in a real box with velvet inside.

He said she had a grown-up soul. That she was wise beyond her years.

That he trusted her with things the others wouldn’t understand.

Those words wrapped around her like a blanket.

She was only fifteen. But she felt older when she was with him.

He made her feel like she mattered. Sometimes, when he called her his special girl, she thought she could do anything. Even fix a broken family.