‘This is more like it,’ she said, and Pepper came to stand beside her.
‘It’s nice,’ she agreed cautiously. ‘But cream? At a wedding?’
Her mother scowled so ferociously that Pepper held both her hands up and took a step backwards.
‘Hey,’ she said. ‘Don’t shoot – I’m only trying to help.’
‘This whole thing is ridiculous anyway,’ her mother went on, pushing the blouse away.
‘What, us going shopping?’ Pepper asked.
‘No! Well, yes – but I meant the wedding. The whole charade of us being there and pretending everything is hunky bloody dory.’
Pepper stared at her mother. She never swore usually – not even a ‘bugger’.
‘Don’t go, then,’ she said, and her mother wheeled around to face her.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Philippa.’
‘Why is that so ridiculous? If you don’t want to go, if you think it will upset you, then stay at home. Lie, if you have to – pretend you’re ill. I’ll back you up. There’s absolutely no point going if it’s going to make you miserable.’
Her mother retorted with a flat, irritated noise.
Pepper made herself think of Finn, of seeing him again soon, of his hand in hers as they strolled through the starlit Lisbon streets.
‘I’m going to Hamburg next weekend,’ she said, to which her mother’s mouth actually fell open.
‘That’s right,’ she went on. ‘I met a man when I was in Portugal – a German man – and, well, I want to see him again, so I’m going.’
‘Portugal?’ her mother said, as though she had no idea what Pepper was talking about.
‘Yes, Mum – I was there a few days ago. You called me, remember?’
‘What about this?’ her mother said, striding away and leaving Pepper mid-sentence. She had spotted another blouse, this time in pale blue.
‘I think it’s boring,’ Pepper wanted to scream. ‘Boring like you, constantly ignoring me, constantly making me feel like I don’t count, that I don’t matter.’
Instead she said, ‘Blue was Bethan’s favourite colour, wasn’t it?’
There was a horrible, long silence.
‘I remember,’ Pepper went on, ‘because she was always so jealous of my bucket-and-spade set. I never had a favourite colour, because I liked all of them, but Bethan was obsessed with blue. She asked me once how old she’d have to be before she could dye her hair blue. I called her Smurf after that. I wonder, if she was here now, which dress she would choose. This one?’ she said, pulling a lace-panelled slip off a nearby rack. ‘Or maybe this?’ she added, shoving a denim pinafore under her mother’s nose.
‘Maybe I’ll buy something blue,’ she said, not caring now how much her mother’s face had fallen, and how much fear she could see in her eyes. ‘Then it will be like she’s there at the wedding with you, instead of me. That’s what you would prefer, isn’t it, Mum? That I had died, and Bethan was still here?’
‘Stop,’ her mum whispered, her hands raised. ‘Please stop.’
‘Why?’ Pepper had broken through her resolve now, the pieces scattered on the floor around her. ‘It’s the truth. I’ve always known it, always felt it.’
‘Philippa,’ her mother’s hands were now over her ears and she was shaking her head, her eyelids squeezed together. She was doing what she always did and shutting out the world – shutting out the people she was supposed to love the most. Her misery was palpable, and just as quickly as it had overcome her, Pepper felt her anger ebb away.
‘Mum.’ Pepper stepped forwards, but her mother shook her head violently.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean it.’
But it was a lie. She had meant it – she had meant every word.
It took her mother a full minute to lower her hands and open her eyes once again. When she did, Pepper was so ashamed of the pain she saw reflected in them that she backed away, hurrying through the shop until she was standing outside on the pavement, her heart racing as the enormity of what she had just done settled over her.
She had thought herself so smart that morning, had imagined the two of them bonding over dresses and hats, sharing coffee and cake as Pepper told her mother all about Finn. But she had been a fool, she saw that now.
When her mother finally emerged almost fifteen minutes later, she thrust a carrier bag at Pepper before she had a chance to say anything.
‘For you,’ she said.
Taken completely by surprise, Pepper mumbled a thank you and opened the bag to find a small, square box.
‘What is it?’
‘Open it,’ her mother said, tucking her neat bob behind her ears.
Pepper couldn’t work out how they had gone from a horrible argument to this. She almost didn’t want to open the box, scared that whatever was inside would bring her awful, needless antagonism to the surface again.
‘You really shouldn’t have,’ she said, but the next words died on her lips as she eased off the lid. Inside was a gold brooch in the shape of an art palette, coloured cut glass set around its edges in blue, green, yellow, orange, red and pink, and two thin brushes laid across its centre.
‘Oh my God.’ Pepper felt a tide of tears rising. ‘It’s beautiful.’
‘I thought so,’ her mother said, shouldering her bag and looking purposefully along the street.
‘Now, shall we have that coffee?’
Pepper could only nod. After years of unimaginative birthday and Christmas presents, her mother had brought her a gift that she loved, that was her.
It wasn’t a ‘sorry’, a ‘thank you’, or a promise that things would change.
But it was something.
Chapter 21
‘Pepper!’
Finn made his way across the arrivals lounge of Hamburg Airport and took her in his arms, planting a proper kiss on her before she had time to get a single word out. All Pepper’s nerves about the journey, flying alone, and – most of all – seeing him again, evaporated as she melted against him, kissing him back with a fervour that would have made any Richard Curtis fan proud.
‘Hello, again,’ he murmured when they finally broke away from one another, grinning at the friendly round of applause they were receiving from bemused onlookers.
‘Hey.’ Pepper beamed back.
‘I missed you,’ they said in unison, laughing and clinging to each other as Finn led the way towards the train depot.
‘It is very early,’ he said, yawning through his smile. ‘So, I am taking you out for breakfast.’
Pepper gazed up at him, at the ripe-apple hue of his cheeks, his heavy flop of spun-gold hair and his dark-blue eyes. She was barely aware of the scenery flashing past beyond the windows, registering only the odd cluster of parkland and the mink-grey clouds that were scattered liberally across a pale sky.
‘No rain today, hopefully,’ Finn said, hooking his arm around her shoulders and pulling her gently against his chest. ‘I cannot wait to show you my city; it is important to me that you like it.’
He explained that he lived in an area called St Pauli, not far from Freunde, the bar and restaurant he co-owned with his two best friends, Clara and Otto, adding that much of Hamburg’s nightlife was concentrated in and around the Reeperbahn – the so-called longest party street in Europe. Pepper’s face must have registered her concern, because Finn immediately started laughing.