Broke Read Free

chair scraping back. ‘You’ve only been back five minutes. Just sit down and eat your tea.’
    ‘Lost me appetite.’ Mark strode out into the hall and snatched his jacket off the hook.
    ‘Don’t you dare go out and leave me on my own again,’ Amy yelled after him. ‘Mark . . . I’m warning you. I’m not joking.’
    His answer was a harder than usual slam of the front door.
    ‘ Bastard! ’ She hurled her plate at the wall.
    A few seconds later, the back door creaked open and Marnie from next door poked her head in. ‘Is it safe?’
    Amy nodded, and swiped at her tears.
    ‘What was it this time?’ Marnie stepped over the broken plate and eyed the mixture of mince, mash, peas and gravy that was sliding down the wall.
    ‘The usual.’ Amy stood up and snatched the dishcloth off the sink drainer. ‘I’ve had a horrible day, but he doesn’t give a toss. He just strolls in late and expects me to wait on him hand and foot.’
    ‘That’s men for you.’ Marnie plonked herself down on the chair that Mark had just vacated and watched as Amy wiped the mess off the wall. ‘They’re all over you till they’ve got you, then they think they can treat you like shit. Wankers, the lot of ’em.’
    ‘He’s not that bad,’ said Amy, automatically jumping to his defence like she always did when someone dared to criticise him. ‘I’m just stressed out ’cos the kids have been playing me up. I shouldn’t have taken it out on him.’
    Marnie gave her a knowing look. ‘You don’t have to cover for him on my behalf, hon. I’ve heard the way he talks to you, and I think he’s got a damn cheek calling you a nag.’
    Amy turned her back and angrily rinsed out the dishcloth before reaching for the dustpan and brush and sweeping up the broken crockery. Nosy bitch must have had a glass up against the wall if she’d heard him say that .
    ‘Oh, leave it,’ Marnie urged when Amy reached for Mark’s plate after depositing the rubbish in the bin. ‘No point wearing yourself out, you won’t get any thanks for it. Come round to mine and chill for a bit. I’ve got some wine.’
    ‘The kids are in bed,’ Amy told her, scraping the remains of Mark’s dinner off the plate.
    ‘They must be asleep by now. They’ll be all right for half an hour.’
    ‘No, I can’t leave them. Mark will go mad if he comes back and I’m not here.’
    ‘You’ll be lucky. He’ll be halfway to the pub by now. You won’t see him again tonight.’
    Amy’s heart sank. Marnie was right. Once Mark hooked up with his mates and got the first few pints down his throat, he’d forget all about her and the kids. The mood he was in when he left, he’d probably crash at Steve’s, then crawl home after work tomorrow full of apologies. That was how it usually panned out when he stormed off after a row.
    Marnie’s phone beeped. She took it out of her pocket, read the message and jumped to her feet. ‘Oh, shit! Sorry, hon, got to go. I forgot Neil was coming round tonight. He’s waiting outside, and I can’t risk Fat Gemma seeing him or she’ll be straight on the phone to his missus. See you tomorrow.’
    Amy locked the door behind her, then finished clearing up and went into the living room. The kids had been watching CBeebies before they went to bed, and stuffed toys were still prancing noisily around on the TV screen. She reached for the remote to turn it over, but hesitated when she caught sight of herself in the mirror above the fire. Her wedding photo, in pride of place on the mantelpiece below, showed a heavily pregnant girl with gleaming blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a mile-wide smile. But the woman staring back at her from the mirror was a scrawny, dull-eyed, straw-haired replica of her mother. Worse, her nan . No wonder Mark couldn’t be bothered to hurry home from work if this was all he had to look forward to.
    Blinking back the tears of self-pity that were stinging her eyes when a peal of raucous laughter floated through