“Meg, I made yours with extra milk and sugar,” she announces, curling her legs under her and settling down on the carpet near Meg’s head. Off Susan’s startled look, Julia shrugs. “What? Mum used to say it’s more comforting that way.”
“I miss Mum,” Meg whimpers, hauling herself into a sitting position and taking a sip of her tea. “If she hadn’t died, I wouldn’t be like this.”
“If she hadn’t died, a lot of things would be different,” Julia observes, glancing meaningfully at Susan. “But she did die, Megs, and we have to muddle on as best we can, right? Try and un-muck things.” She pats Meg on the knee and sighs. “I miss her too.”
“Do you?” Meg shoots her older sister a skeptical look. “You never seem to.”
“Like I told Suze, I try not to think about it.” Julia shrugs. “But you know, Mum was the only person who didn’t just tell me I was pretty. Well, except for you,” she adds, looking at Susan. “She used to listen to me going on and on about design plans. Everyone else just seemed bored. She was the one who encouraged me to start the business. It’s why I couldn’t quite bear to go on with it after she died. I thought she was the only one who thought anything of me.” Another glance at Susan. “But things are different now. And I don’t want you talking about having no one, Meg. You’ve got two sisters, right? Come and talk to us, but, you know, without the hysterics. And there’s something else that might help.”
“Oh? What’s that?” Meg asks.
“Well …” Julia clears her throat and sits up straighter. “You know that Susan and I saw someone after Mum died? A professional? Now, don’t look at me like that—I’m not saying you’re mad, but it did both of us a lot of good, wouldn’t you say, Suze?”
Susan nods.
“There you are, then. It might help for you to talk to someone. And find something else to do besides just mothering. You need a hobby, Megs. Or a job.”
“You say that like it’s such an easy thing to do!”
“It is an easy thing to do,” Julia insists. “Get out of the house and away from the kids. Get a new nanny and join a club. Take up knitting or—I don’t know—get an allotment or something. Maybe Susan’ll hire you at the restaurant!”
“I don’t think Meg really wants to work at the restaurant,” Susan interjects, “but there are plenty of other things to do. What about joining a choir? I miss you singing, Meg!”
Meg sniffles and stares down at her mug. “I do miss it, sometimes,” she mutters. “I thought about joining one of the Edinburgh choirs, but I kept telling myself I was too busy … I don’t know … maybe you’re right and it’d be good for me to have something to do. I mean, Jules, you’ve been much happier and more interesting since you started redoing the restaurant. You actually seemed excited about it, and I haven’t seen you excited about anything for years. Same with you, Susan.”
“Thank you, sweetie,” Susan says.
“Tell you what—I’m going to look into counselors, okay, Megs?” Julia offers. “I’ve a friend whose wife is a GP; I’m sure she’ll know of someone. And I’m going to get you out of the house more. Let’s make a standing date to meet for a drink—say, once a month or so. Be more family. You can come too, Susan.”
“Aw, thanks.” Susan chuckles.
“If you’re not too busy,” Julia adds.
“I’ll make time,” Susan promises.
Meg finally manages a wobbly smile. “Thanks,” she says to both her sisters. “I’d like us to see each other more. Away from the rest of the family. Just us sisters.”
“We’ll be besties, just like in the movies,” Julia comments with a wry smile.
The doorbell rings and Julia rises to answer it, returning a few moments later with Kay in tow.
“Oh, Susan, you’re here!” Kay notes. “I thought I’d have to go to the restaurant to say goodbye.”
“You’re not leaving now, are you?” Susan asks. “I thought you were staying on until next week.”
“Oh, I am, I am, but you’ve been so occupied lately.” Kay takes in the mugs of tea and the tearstained face of her youngest niece and asks, “What’s been going on here?”
“Just family drama,” Julia answers. “Can I get you some tea?”
“That’d be lovely, darling. Susan, may I borrow you for a chat?”
“I know when I’m not wanted,” Meg grumbles, hauling herself to her feet.
“Come on, you,” Julia says to her. “We’ll find some vegan something-or-other to cheer you up.”
Kay takes Meg’s spot on the sofa and looks meaningfully at Susan. “Now, my dear, I’ve had breakfast with a rather sorrowful young man of your acquaintance. What on earth happened to you and Philip? I thought you were going gangbusters, but the poor lad tells me it’s all over.”
“I’m sorry that he’s sad,” says Susan, “but it just wasn’t right, you know? It was nice, it was good, but good just isn’t good enough. I hope he’s not too upset.”
“Oh, he’ll be fine, dear—don’t worry. He’ll be shooting in a few weeks and a little on-set romance will bounce him right back.” Kay bites her lower lip. “Susan, my love, is it really that he wasn’t right for you, or were you too distracted by someone else to give him a fair chance?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
There’s a sudden sting of tears behind Susan’s eyes, and she glances away, pressing her lips together and trying to regain control of herself.
It’s all the answer Kay needs, and she reaches out and hugs Susan fiercely. “Oh, Susan, my darling,” she breathes. “I’m sorry. I’m so very, very sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?” Susan asks.
“Just … I’m sorry you’re sad, my love. You know I want more than anything for you to be happy, don’t you?”
“I do. And I am happy.”
“No, Susan. You’re not. You’re content, in a sense. But you’re not happy. Not the way I want you to be.”
“Well, there’s not much to be done about that, is there?”
“Isn’t there?”
“No. We—he and I, we’re cordial, which is good. But he’s not interested in me, and I don’t blame him. I hurt him. I really, really screwed things up, and so he’s moved on. It was a long time ago, and he has a very different life now. I should move on too, and I’m trying to; it’s just a slow process. I’ll get there.” She smiles at her aunt in a way she hopes is reassuring, but Kay does not return it.
“Dear girl,” Kay murmurs, “don’t force it. Don’t settle, for God’s sake—that would break my heart. You’re not content to give yourself by halves, and I admire that. I should have recognized it better ten years ago.”
“Well, we were all pretty distracted.”
“Yes, I suppose we were.”
“Can we talk about something else now?” Susan begs, still feeling like she’s teetering on the brink of bursting into tears. “Have you got a new role coming up or something?”