Page 58 of The Holiday Cottage

Pictures?“You mean the family photos?”

“Did you see the one of me with Benson?” Ava plopped a roast potato onto her plate. “I like that one, and the one of Bailey in the snow. He looks so funny covered in white. Like a snow monster.”

And suddenly Dorothy knew. She knew why Imogen was looking so shocked.

Her stomach lurched.

“Imogen—”

“I can see that they’re family photos,” Imogen said, “but what I don’t understand is why there is a photo of my mother on the wall?”

Dorothy felt her heart skip, and for a moment she thought it might stop altogether.

Why hadn’t she thought of that? Photos. They were everywhere, and such an important part of her life that she never questioned their presence.

Sara stood up quickly, and for a moment Dorothy thought she was going to walk out and leave Dorothy to deal with this crisis. And she wouldn’t have blamed her if she did. Sara had warned her. Sara had thought it was a bad idea right from the start. And she was right.

But Sara didn’t leave. Instead, she beckoned to the children. “Girls, I’d like you to go and watch TV for a few minutes.”

Ava held tightly to her plate. “But we’re having chicken.”

“Lunch will be a little bit later.”

“But—”

“Iris, could you take your sister for me, please?”

Iris looked confused, but nodded and took Ava’s hand. “Come on. We’ll watch cartoons.”

“I’m hungry. And we’re not allowed to watch cartoons in the middle of the day.”

“Today we are. Special treat. And we’ll eat in a minute.” Iris coaxed her sister out of the room and once the door closed behind them, Dorothy pulled out a chair.

“Come and sit down, Imogen.”

“I’m fine right here.” Imogen stood without moving. “There were four people in that photo. My mother, a younger girl and an older couple, a woman and a man. You’re the woman.”

Dorothy wished she could rewind the clock and do things differently. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time in her life that she’d felt that way. “Yes, I am. And this is my fault. I should have said something before now, but it’s complicated.”

“You’re the younger girl.” Imogen turned to look at Sara.

“Yes.” Sara held her gaze without flinching. “Tina was my older sister.”

“Sister.” Imogen rubbed her fingers across her forehead. Her hand was shaking. “She asked for her sister. I told everyone she didn’t have a sister.” She seemed almost to be talking to herself.

Dorothy forced herself to speak. “Tina is my daughter. My eldest daughter.”

Imogen was breathing rapidly. “So that makes you my grandmother.”

Had there ever been a more awkward moment?

“Yes.” Dorothy felt pressure in her chest. Terror, anticipation, but also relief because the moment that had been hovering in her future was finally here. “I’m your grandmother. I hadn’t intended for you to find out this way, obviously, but—well, maybe it’s a good thing. There was no easy way. And now it’s out in the open I really hope we can get to know each other.” The words felt so inadequate and far too small for the hugeness of the moment.

“My grandmother.” Imogen’s tone was flat. “We’ve worked together for almost two years. We’ve sat in meetings together, run an event, had lunch—and you never once said anything? Why? You obviously knew who I was the whole time.”

“Not immediately, but it didn’t take long for me to figure it out.” And she had so many regrets. The whole situation was such a mess she couldn’t see how they were ever going to unravel it, but if there was to be any chance of a future relationship it had to be based on a foundation of truth.

“That’s why you gave us the business.”

---