Page 201 of This Woman Forever

“That’s good.” John follows me, falling into line beside me as we take the stairs.

“Yes, that’s good. When did you become a therapist?”

“So, what now?” he asks, ignoring my sarcasm.

We round the landing and descend the staircase to the entrance hall. “What do you mean, what now?”

“Is there a chance?”

My eyes fall to my feet, watching my steps. Amalie asked the exact same question.

Is there?

“John, I don’t really have the headspace right now to answer these questions,” I say.

He nods, accepting, and diverts toward the bar. “I understand.”

“Where are you going?”

“I have a feeling it’s going to be a long day, so I’m getting caffeine.”

No headspace? Then why can’t I get Mum’s sadness out of my fucking mind? I come to a stop by the round table. The lilies have been put back in the vase. I sigh, plucking them back out and laying them on the table, leaving that one single calla on display.

Understated elegance.

Where it all began.

I reach into my inside pocket and pull out the image of the babies.

Twins.

It’s another chance.

And again, I wonder who Mum was talking about.

Them? Or just me?

39

John’s right. It feels like it’s going to be a long day. So I follow his lead and stock up on coffee, except I don’t join him on one of the couches in the summer room to drink it. Instead, I have mine poured into a takeout cup and go for another walk, lapping the grounds, mulling things over. So many things. I feel weirdly vacant, and it’s beginning to piss me off. My head’s scrambled, so when I see Cook finally pull through the gates, I’m grateful, despite knowing my attention is likely to be focused on something unpleasant.

I call John to let him know he’s here and that I’m on my way, jumping when someone honks their horn at me. Sam pulls up, his window down. “What are you doing?” he asks, a monster frown on his face as he flanks me.

“Walking.”

“From where?”

“Just walking.” I give him an accusing look. “Did you get my text?”

“Yeah, I got your text.”

“Get it sorted?”

“No need.” He inhales and looks down the driveway toward The Manor. “I’m quitting.”

I try and fail to contain my surprise. “You’re quitting?”

“Me and Kate are...” His head tilts one way, then the other, as if he’s pondering how to explain.

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