Mandy Wilson sat in the passenger seat as her mother Carol followed the Pickfords lorry out of London. "Oh for heaven's sake cheer up," exhaled Carol. "We're going and that's all there is to it."
The words merely made her daughter slouch lower in the seat and fold her arms ever more tightly across her chest. "You're worse than a little kid sometimes," added Carol.
Mandy replied with a snarl.
The reason for Mandy's disquiet had been set in motion six months ago when her mother announced to her only child that boyfriend Alan had asked her to move in with him β in Devon, some 250 miles away. "Mum, you can't leave me here on my own," Mandy had protested.
Carol's hesitation spoke volumes. "Um, look honey, I've put the house on the market," the older woman replied. "When it's sold either you can come with me or you can find a flat to rent locally. You are eighteen, after all Mandy."
Mandy's face dropped. Find a flat to rent? Fend for herself? She'd barely lifted a finger around the house in her time. This was all too much to take. She cried for days, whilst plotting an alternative to moving to Devon.
It never came to fruition and it was inevitable therefore that when Carol eventually moved, Mandy would go with her. With her friends all that distance away it felt like eighteen years had just been wiped off. She'd sobbed her heart out for hours on end and this had to be the worst day of her life.
"All that sea air will do you the world of good," mused Carol from the driver's seat, eliciting a darker scowl from her grumpy daughter.
Quite frankly, she'd heard them all before β a hundred times over. "You'll soon make new friends." "In six months time you'll forget you ever lived in this horrible city." "You don't know till you've tried it."
Her mother had the monopoly on clichΓ©s.
All Mandy could think of was how much she'd miss her friends, the local lads, the trendy nightclubs and boutiques and a way of life she'd gotten accustomed to. "You're so damned selfish, mother," she mumbled under her breath.
"Oh I'm the selfish one, am I? Blah, blah, blah..."
Quickly Mandy turned off. She'd heard enough. She hated the woman for doing this. Six months maximum and Mandy was coming back to London, to live on the streets if need be. That'd teach the selfish cow.
Carol had heard those kinds of retorts too, a hundred times over. "If you spoil this for me, Mandy, I'll never forgive you."
Why oh why hadn't her mother found some nice local guy after dad died? Although it was the same country it felt like the other side of the world and it might as well be.
"Alan says Toby has a computer. I'm sure he won't mind you keeping in touch with your friends."
Mandy issued a scowl. MSN was as pale an imitation of the real thing as Mandy's complexion. Best described as a goth, she was raven haired and pallid of face, a sun dodger. She wore a ring through her nose, a stud in her chin and had a tattoo of an eagle on her shoulder blade and a dagger close to her appendix.
Despite everything, Mandy was a pretty girl, with high cheekbones, hazel eyes full of expression and a wonderful little heart-shaped mouth. In another life she could easily have been a model. Blessed with a sizeable bosom, it was made to look even fuller on a slender figure. Her bum was peachy and nutcracker tight, not that she wore the sort of clothes to show it off, her outfit of choice uniformly black like the robes of a high priestess or jeans and a Foo Fighters' t-shirt.
"I'm sure you and Toby will get along fine," added Carol, eliciting a curl of the lip.
Alan's son Toby was twenty-one, a high achiever at university who Mandy had come to despise with a passion. Every time she and her mother got into a row, which was often in the current climate, Toby's successes and her failures were thrown back in her face. It wasn't her fault she'd not been able to settle in a job. All employers were prejudiced.
She'd met Toby just the once, at a Christmas get together. She went into it hoping to hate him and was not to be disappointed. He was arrogant, snobby, opinionated and self-centered. Worse, he actually tried to be nice to her. To Mandy it sounded like he was talking down. Clean cut, clean shaven and clean mouthed, he was all the things Mandy despised. Being aturally blond and a techno-geek made her hate him even more. They were not so much from different circles as different stratospheres.
* * *
The convoy's arrival in Devon was greeted by Alan, a kiss for Carol and a nod of the head for Mandy. She knew he had no time for her. That was perhaps the one redeeming factor of the upheaval. And she planned to get a whole lot worse till he snapped. Maybe then her mother would see him for what he was: an arrogant millionaire. Mandy screwed up her nose. Why did wealth come to those who deserved it least?
Mandy lugged her bits and pieces up to her new room and buried herself away like a tortoise in hibernation. An hour in and already she hated the place.
* * *