But Maggie was thinking aloud. ‘Daniel must have worked it out,’ she said. ‘Even if he didn’t find his way to York to be close to them in the first place, he must have assumed that Angie and Romany might still be living here. And if Hope told him about her role as Angie’s guardian then he would have made the connections. Another single mother called Angie with a daughter of the right age called Romany is way too much of a coincidence to be somebody else. And it’s such an Angie thing to have done, involving Hope.’ Maggie smiled to herself at the workings of Angie’s mind. God, she’d have loved having them all running round in circles like this.
But then something else occurred to her and the smile slipped from her face. ‘We have to tread carefully here, Tiger,’ she said. ‘What if Daniel hasn’t told Hope who Romany is? That’s not our news to share. And who knows what might happen if we do?’
51
Romany was on the final straight. The finishing line was almost in sight and all she had to do was keep galloping until she crossed it. She dropped her textbook and rolled back on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. That was possibly the worst metaphor she had ever used. It sounded like something the head of sixth form would come out with in one of her uplifting assemblies and Romany swore to herself that she would never let the image cross her mind again.
It did feel a lot like a race, though. This whole year had done. She had been running from one waymarker to the next, all the time getting closer to her goal, but without really having any time for anything else. Maybe that was no bad thing. If she stopped and thought for too long, she worried that she might go to pieces, and she simply didn’t have the time. The most important thing now was to get through the exams – she could fall apart as much as she liked once they were over.
Elsewhere in the flat, she could hear Tiger pushing the vacuum cleaner around, the dull rumble a comfort of sorts, an indicator of a normal life continuing around her. When he had first started showing domestic tendencies, Romany had been astounded, and the first time she had spotted him with a duster and a tin of Mr Sheen in his hand she had laughed out loud.
‘Oh my God,’ she’d said through her snorts. ‘Look at you!’
He had looked quite indignant. ‘Well, there’s no need for us to live like savages,’ he said. ‘And I reckoned it would take the pressure off you if I pulled my weight a bit more.’
She had stopped laughing then, seeing that he was serious. It was actually quite sweet.
‘Thanks,’ she’d said, feeling a little ashamed.
‘That’s okay. When I’ve done this, I thought I’d give the windows a bit of a going-over. They’re looking a bit smeary when the sun shines on them.’
And so she had left him to it, grateful that he seemed happy to help out. Since then, the house had been transformed. He had gradually worked his way through every room, cleaning, polishing and replacing things as he went. Romany hadn’t realised how grubby some of the soft furnishings had got until he washed the cushion covers and even threw a few things away, although he always checked an item for irreplaceable sentimental value before it went to the tip.
Their food had gone through a similar transformation. When Tiger had first moved in, they had existed on fresh but simple food that was heated and then served. Boiled vegetables, grilled meat or fish （Tiger was no vegetarian and neither, she discovered, was she）， the odd veggie pasta dish; all perfectly nutritious but requiring no skill, just the application of time. Now, though, their menu had been entirely revamped. They even had home-made sauces as Tiger became increasingly confident in the kitchen. He had become a veritable domestic god.
So now, all that was required of her was to get the grades for Durham, and with so much support at home and school she really had no excuse.
Her mobile pinged and she flung an arm out and retrieved it from the bedside table. A few messages had all landed at once: three from Laura asking her how she was getting on with a past paper that they had been set, and one from Hope. Romany sat up and opened the Hope one.
Hi R. Shoot at Aysgarth Falls on Sat. Want to come? H x
Romany was used to Hope’s abbreviated style of message and had got quite used to elucidating meaning from them. They were a contrast to Maggie’s fully grammatical ones. She had to think about this one for a moment, however. She supposed that it was a fashion shoot and not the gun kind. Hope ran some kind of swimwear business. Romany wasn’t sure entirely what kind, but she had been very impressed by the bikini that Hope had been wearing on their spa trip, and even more delighted when Hope had given her a bag of samples to keep. She had the nicest beachwear in the whole of York, although she had yet to wear any of it outside her bedroom.