Page 43 of The Holiday Cottage

Rosalind paused. “Your mother is lucky to have such a loving and caring daughter.”

Yes, she was. It was just a shame she didn’t appreciate it.

I don’t want to be your mum.

You ruined my life.

Her mother’s words had hammered down the defenses she’d built over the years, and now, on top of the emotional hurt, she was going to lose her job. So her reward for family loyalty was to be punished. She shouldn’t have gone to the hospital. When the doctor had asked her to come, she should have refused.

Imogen felt a rush of frustration and outrage at how unfair this all was and then felt angry with herself. She knew life was unfair. She’d known that for a long time. Bad things happened to good people, and people didn’t get what they deserved. She couldn’t do anything about that, but she could choose not to let her mother continue to do this to her. What had her mother said?Go and live out your happy family fantasy somewhere else.

Well, no more fantasy. From now on she was facing reality, no matter how ugly it looked.

Rosalind sat back in her chair. “How is your mother now?”

Imogen chose her words carefully. “She’s more herself.”

Which basically meant she was as frustrating and imperfect as ever.

Rosalind nodded. “Good. You’re probably looking forward to Christmas so that you can spend proper time together.”

After last night, Imogen doubted she’d ever be seeing her mother again. And that was fine. The only thing worse than spending Christmas all alone, would be spending it with her mother.

But that wasn’t the response Rosalind was expecting, so Imogen managed a smile.

“Yes,” she said. “I’m looking forward to Christmas.”

Rosalind was watching her closely. “I can understand that concern for your mother drove all other thoughts from your head, but we both know there’s more going on here.”

Imogen stiffened. She couldn’t possibly know, could she?

“There’s nothing more, Rosalind.”

“There is. And if you won’t admit it, then I’m going to spell it out.” Rosalind leaned forward. “You are close to burnout, Imogen.”

“Excuse me? I am—What?”

“Burnout. I’m concerned you’re on the edge of it, and my job is to catch you before you topple over the edge. It’s been worrying me for a while. You’re a phenomenal worker with huge talent, but everyone has their limits and these last few weeks you’ve gone way past yours. The hours you’re putting in, and the workload you’re handling, is inhuman. And of course I’m responsible for that workload—” a flicker of a smile touched Rosalind’s mouth “—but so are you. It’s important to know your limits.”

Burnout.

Imogen stared at her. She was most definitely not on the edge of burnout. Not with work, anyway. Her mother, yes. When it came to her mother she was so burned-out she was charred to a cinder.

She opened her mouth to deny it and then realized that if Rosalind thought she had burnout, then she would stop looking for other reasons for Imogen’s massive screwup. She could use this, and it wasn’t as if she wasn’t stressed out of her mind. It wasn’t a lie exactly.

“That might be true.” She said it with reluctance. “I have taken on a lot lately. Maybe too much.”

Rosalind gave a nod of agreement. “You give everything to your work, and these extra challenges in your personal life have been the final straw.”

Well,thatwas true. “You’re right, they have.”

“Everyone has tough moments in their lives, Imogen, and what you should have done was reach out and share that with me so that we could find a solution together, but I realize that concern for your mother drove all that from your head and on top of worrying about Midas it was all too much. Which presumably is why you dropped the ball.”

Imogen wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say to that, so she simply nodded.

Rosalind studied her, always a slightly unsettling experience.

“How long have you worked here, Imogen?”

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