‘Yes, Mum,’ Merrin offered first, admonished like a child and awash with the shame that came with it.
‘Sorry, Mum,’ Ruby seconded.
Heather pulled her shawl around her shoulders and stared at the fire. Her hair was matted and stuck up at the back of her head, her skin had taken on a greyish hue and she had lost so much weight in the shortest time.
‘I’ve lost Ben.’ Her tears fell silently and she did nothing to remove them, as if it were her normal state. ‘And you’ve lost your dad. And my whole world is torn apart. I feel . . .’ She struggled to find the words. ‘I feel as if I’m hanging on by a single thread. One single thread, and I don’t mind admitting that it wouldn’t take much for me to snip it and fall.’ She let this sink in. ‘In fact, over the last few days, that thought has been attractive.’
Ruby whimpered and Merrin followed; it was a thought too hard to bear.
‘I’m sorry, Mum.’ Ruby spoke through her tears.
‘You don’t have to say sorry to me.’ Heather slowly levered herself into a standing position, making her way across the room, reaching for pieces of furniture as if they were handrails as she headed back to the stairs and the comfort of her bed. ‘You have to say sorry to your sister.’
‘I’m going home.’ Ruby grabbed her jacket from the dining table and slipped her arms into it.
‘Don’t go home, Rubes.’ Bella said the words Merrin had been considering.
‘I’m knackered.’ Ruby rubbed her lower back. ‘I’ll see you girls tomorrow.’
‘We love you!’ Bella called from the stove as the front door closed and Ruby walked out into the driving rain.
Despite her fatigue, Merrin knew she wouldn’t sleep well tonight. Not now. Instead, she would lie awake, trying to digest the words that filled her throat, their taste bitter and their effect poisonous. The little parlour was usually a haven, but now, with the echo of their fight still bouncing off the walls, it had never felt so small.
‘She didn’t mean it.’ Bella did what she did best and tried to stitch the tear back together.
‘I think she did,’ Merrin whispered. ‘But Mum’s right. We’ve all got enough on our plate right now without Ruby and me falling out. I’m exhausted with it all and I need this petty jealousy to stop. It used to be funny when we were little, arguing over a bit of cake, a toy we both wanted to play with or who had the lion’s share of floor space in our bedroom, but now’ – she rubbed her tired eyes, thinking of the nights she had replayed the words of their big row and knowing that she had neither the energy nor the inclination to do it again – ‘I can’t be doing with it, Bells. Can’t live waiting for the next flare of aggression to fill my head for months on end. It’s not fair.’
‘Everyone’s tired. Everyone’s grieving and everyone is on edge. Things will calm down, Merry.’ Bella offered the voice of reason. ‘I’m glad you are getting on well with Miguel. You seemed happy enough at Ruby’s wedding, and even though I had my doubts about you guys long term, everyone seems to really like him. And I don’t want you to be on your own.’ Bella spoke softly, as she tucked a blanket around the sleeping Glynn in his pram.
‘You’re on your own and you’re doing okay.’ She admired her friend more than she could say.
‘I’m not, though, am I? I’ve got this little munchkin. Although I can’t pretend I wouldn’t rather be raising him with Luuk, but what you gonna do?’
‘I hear ya, Bells.’ She got up and hugged her friend.
‘But we all know it needs more than good looks to make it work. There needs to be love. That brilliant, magical spark.’
‘Did you think that’s what you had with Luuk: love?’ His absence was for her another example of the unreliable nature of those strong feelings.
Bella nodded. ‘I do love him. And as daft as it sounds, I know he loves me. His calls are never nasty, he’s always kind; he’s trying to figure things out and, in a way, I don’t want him to sell me a false promise.’
‘We all know how that ends,’ Merrin quipped.
‘It’s true; in some ways I admire his honesty. He’s only ever been completely open with me. And I him.’
‘But he left you, Bells. How can you say you love him?’
‘Because I do! It’s that simple: I love him! And he didn’t leave me, he went back to work, jumped on that big old yacht and headed off to Costa Rica, and after he’d gone, I found out I was pregnant.’
‘But he should have come back!’
‘Maybe.’ Bella looked towards the pram, where her heart lay sleeping. ‘But I’d rather he didn’t if it was only to tell me we have no future and then for me to watch him go again. Glynn is a happy babby who is doing great, and that’s all that matters, isn’t it?’
‘I guess. You’re the best mum, Bella. I’m proud of you.’ Merrin nodded as she sank down on the sofa. ‘And I agree in not complicating matters. Miguel and I are happy, but marriage?’ She shook her head.
‘You’ll figure it out, my girlie, you always do. But don’t make any decisions now, not when your brain is fuddled.’ Bella smiled at her. ‘And I’m proud of you. Look how far you’ve come.’
There was a knock on the door. This in itself was unusual, as every regular visitor knew the door was unlocked and you only had to open it and pop your head inside to call out your arrival.
‘Might be someone dropping off another card.’ Bella went to the door.
Merrin looked at the row of ‘In sympathy’ cards that now lined the shelves and the mantel, feeling grateful for and hating them in equal measure. She yawned and, when she opened her eyes, Bella was standing back to allow none other than Loretta Mortimer into their little home.
It was such a shock to see her there with rain lacing her hair that Merrin couldn’t find any words. Instead she stared at the woman, as if glued to the seat.
Digby’s mother’s manner was uncharacteristically hesitant and she looked down, running her fingers over the heads of the roses and ferns in her hand.
‘I was very sorry to hear about your father.’ She addressed Merrin directly. ‘I brought these for Heather.’ She held them out and it was Bella who took them and walked to the sink where a vase lived on the shelf above it.
Merrin felt rooted to the spot.
‘I saw Digby.’ She hadn’t intended on saying anything, but this came out almost instinctively, knowing it was Mrs Mortimer who had sent him.
Loretta nodded. ‘Yes. I thought . . . I thought . . .’
‘You thought what?’ Her voice was surprisingly clear and steady. Gone was the quiet, pleading tone that had wrapped her words that day in the vestry.
‘I thought it might do Digby good to have a conversation with you, to lay some ghosts to rest. For you to see him settled and move on and for him to do the same.’
‘I am not a ghost, Loretta. I am a person: a living, breathing person with feelings!’
‘I know.’ The woman held her gaze. ‘Digby and his family left yesterday and he . . . he wrote to me. I don’t think I’ve ever mulled over any correspondence in such a way.’ She looked close to tears. ‘I know it by heart.’