Sean caught up with her. “I know you’re upset. But that’s your mother being your mother.”
It wasn’t only her mother who had upset her, but this wasn’t the time to have such an important conversation. She was tired and hurt and didn’t trust her own feelings.
They walked together in awkward silence and by the time they returned to the house, Martha was gone.
While Sean called the girls, Liza threw together a selection of summer salads, tearing fresh basil leaves over mozzarella, adding toasted almonds to green beans as she half listened to the conversation.
“Everything quiet there, Caitlin?” Sean reached past Liza and stole an olive. “House still standing? No calls to the emergency services... What?... Yes, of course I’m joking.” He gave Liza a look that said, You see? I’m checking on them. “Make sure you lock up properly before you go to bed. And check you haven’t left the freezer door open.”
Liza sprinkled chopped garlic over baby tomatoes, red onion and peppers and put them in the oven to roast.
“That smells good.” Sean hung up. “The twins sound fine. They’re having a quiet night in and all is well.”
“What about the party?”
“You told them they couldn’t go.”
“Since when did anyone listen to me?” Liza sliced a sourdough loaf and pulled butter out of the fridge.
“They obviously are listening to you.”
She felt guilty for not being as trusting as he was. “Did you talk to Alice?”
“No. Why?”
Because she wasn’t as good a liar as her sister.
Caitlin was very much the dominant one.
“Nothing. Ignore me.”
Why didn’t she feel reassured? It was that look Caitlin had given her before she’d left the house. The yes Mum, that didn’t mean yes at all.
These were her children. She loved them more than anything. She should trust them too. She was never going to heal the relationship unless there was trust involved. She was going to be more like Sean, and always assume the best and not the worst.
“Thank you for checking. I appreciate it.” She kissed Sean on the cheek and took the glass of wine he offered.
The first sip was bliss, like tasting sunshine in a glass. Some of the tension left her.
They ate dinner outside, watching the sun dip over the fields and the ocean in the distance.
Popeye appeared, as he so often did when there was food to be had.
They talked about the trip, and Liza talked about the summer plans for France, and carefully resisted all temptation to urge her mother to be careful.
She closed her eyes, savoring the wine and the sunshine until the air grew chilly. When the sky darkened, she cleared the plates into the kitchen and Kathleen headed for bed.
Liza had the feeling she would have been as happy to be alone.
It was clear that her mother was frustrated by her attempts to be caring, and Liza didn’t know how not to care.
“We should have an early night too,” she said to Sean. “All that sea air has made me tired.”
Feeling isolated and unappreciated, she took ages in the bathroom and was relieved to find Sean already asleep when she eventually slid into bed next to him.
It took a long time for her to fall asleep but eventually she did and she was dreaming of the South of France when Sean’s phone rang.
He groped for it in the dark and Liza switched on the light, heart pounding.
“Is it the girls?”
He focused on the screen. “No, it’s Margaret and Peter from next door. Why on earth would they be calling in the middle of the night?” He sat up and answered the phone. “Margaret? Yes—don’t worry about that—” He listened and rubbed his hand over his face. “You’re kidding—oh no—”
“What?” Liza mouthed the question but he shook his head and held up his hand.
“All I can do is apologize... Yes, absolutely. We’ll leave now, but it will take four hours to get home. Of course you called the police—I understand.”
“Police?” Liza, who didn’t understand at all, was frantic. “What is going on?”
“Yes, Liza and I will be dealing with them I can assure you.” Sean finally hung up and swore under his breath. “We need to leave.”
“Is it the twins? Did they have an accident?”
“No, they had a party.” Sean’s expression was grim as he threw their clothes into the overnight bag. “They’ve wrecked our house and, it seems, broken our neighbors’ dining room window and destroyed their precious herbaceous borders. We have to go home.”
6
KATHLEEN
Two weeks later Kathleen sat clutching her bag on her lap as Liza drove her to the airport.
She felt old, but that was what two nights with teenagers could do for you.
Was it wrong to feel relieved that part of her trip was over? She was starting to understand why Liza looked drained the whole time.
Liza gave her a wan smile. “Sorry. It wasn’t the most relaxing stay.”
“It was a treat to see the girls.” Kathleen forced herself to lie, a challenge for someone who believed in speaking the truth. It seemed the polite thing to do, even though they both knew that the twins had been a nightmare. They’d behaved delightfully to her of course—Granny! It’s great to see you—and appallingly to their mother—We could all go out for a nice family dinner but Mum’s taken away all the fun in our lives.
Given the level of hostility, Kathleen admired her daughter for sticking to the sanctions she’d imposed. In the same situation she doubted she would have been so resolute. But Liza had always been an easy child, so discipline of any sort had been unnecessary.
What a horrid, conflict-ridden, joyless world her daughter was inhabiting.
“No internet, no TV, no phone, for a month.” Caitlin had stomped around the kitchen. “It’s an infringement of my human rights.”
Alice, a conflict avoider, had covered her ears and left the room.
Liza had stayed calm. “It was an infringement of our neighbors’ rights when you kept them awake, broke a window and destroyed half the plants on their border.”
“That wasn’t my fault.” Caitlin was mutinous. “I’m not responsible for other people’s actions.”
“You are when they are guests in your home.”
“They weren’t guests! I didn’t even know them. And taking everything away is—is—it’s medieval. Granny, tell her it’s medieval.”