Bobby's Girl Read Online Free Page B

he left. Determined not to become a financial burden on her parents and make a success of single motherhood and self-employment, she’d vowed to be in her studio every morning by six-thirty. Nine days out of ten she was, but the first hour was rarely productive. She’d tried to fool herself and anyone who asked by pretending she used the time to look over her previous day’s output and plan her work. The truth was she usually wasted the hour drinking coffee, nibbling biscuits, and listening to the radio.
    Brian pulled her mail from his bag. ‘Sign this now, before I forget.’ He handed her a form and pen along with her letters.
    She scribbled a signature and flicked through the envelopes. There was an electricity bill, a gas bill, a new cheque book from her bank, a royalty statement from her artists’ agency; and the recorded delivery from the States. She turned it over and read the return address.
    â€˜Someone you know?’ Brian asked.
    She struggled to remain impassive. If Brian had a fault, it was his addiction to gossip. He also told his wife, Betty, everything he heard and she was even fonder of tittle-tattle.
    â€˜Mmm,’ she mumbled, not trusting herself to speak.
    â€˜Someone you met when you were in America?’
    â€˜A casual acquaintance,’ she lied. She had only beento the States once, nineteen years ago, but she was aware people in Pontypridd still speculated about her trip, principally because she’d returned with the ultimate Sixties souvenir – a pregnancy. ‘So tell me.’ She feigned interest. ‘What’s happening in town?’
    â€˜Peter Raschenko’s talking about retiring again.’
    â€˜And … you believe him?’
    â€˜Everyone knows he’ll be running that garage when he’s eighty, never mind sixty. How are your mother and father?’
    â€˜My father’s well, my mother isn’t so good.’ It was Penny’s automatic reply to any enquiry about her parents’ health. Her mother suffered from osteoarthritis, a condition that had worsened over the past couple of years.
    â€˜Sorry to hear it. But it’s this damp weather. Old Mrs Harris down the hill was complaining about her rheumatism …’
    Penny didn’t want to hear about Mrs Harris’s rheumatism. She wanted Brian to leave her in peace so she could open and read her letter.
    â€˜You all right, Pen?’
    â€˜Pardon?’ She realised she’d stopped listening to Brian.
    â€˜Nothing wrong, is there? Andy’s A levels—’
    â€˜Andy has only just finished sitting his mock examinations.’ She knew she’d snapped when Brian looked at her even more oddly.
    â€˜He’s expected to do well, though, isn’t he? I mean he has a place lined up in university.’
    â€˜Medical college,’ she corrected, still terse. ‘But hewon’t be going unless he gets the A-level results they want.’ She crossed her fingers behind her back. Andy was bright, but the college place was by no means certain. Although he was the grandson and nephew of doctors he wasn’t getting any special consideration. Nor did he expect any. He had to achieve two As and a B grade. His teachers had assured Penny he was on course to get them but that hadn’t stopped her from worrying he wouldn’t. He could have a cold on the day – or a headache …
    â€˜He’ll follow in his great-grandfather’s, grandfather’s and uncle’s footsteps. The fourth generation Doctor John in Ponty surgery,’ Brian observed.
    â€˜If he returns to Pontypridd and goes into general practice after he qualifies.’ Penny was irritated by the general assumption that her son would join the medical practice her father had inherited and her brother ran, with occasional help from their father who insisted he had only ‘semi-retired’.
    â€˜Well, must be on my way. Can’t keep the farmers