Page 59 of The Holiday Cottage

“No.” It hadn’t occurred to her that Imogen might think that. “I gave you the business because you are the best at what you do. When you moved to RPQ, I wanted us to continue working together. I’m proud of you, Imogen.”

Confusion and pain flickered across Imogen’s face. “Proud? Why would you be proud? I’m nothing to do with you. You didn’t want me in your life. Anything I am,anything I’ve done or achieved, is despite you, not because of you.” Her eyes shone with hurt, but there was also determination there, and Dorothy saw that whatever vulnerability she had, she also had a core of steel. If she hadn’t been so worried, she might have been impressed and a little in awe.

“You’re upset, and I can understand that—”

“Upset? Yes, I’m upset, but mostly I’m angry. You lied to me.”

“I didn’t exactly lie, but it’s true there are many things I haven’t told you and there are reasons for that. Good reasons.” Dorothy felt sick and shaky. She pulled out a chair and sank onto it for support, ignoring Sara’s quick look of concern. “It’s complicated, Imogen. If you sit down, I’ll tell you everything and I will answer any questions you have.”

“What questions would I have? I already know everything I need to know. You abandoned my mother.” Imogen’s voice broke. “You were her family, her only family, and you threw her out when she needed you most. Families are supposed to stick together no matter how hard it gets, but you left us to struggle. And I’m sure it wasn’t an easy situation, but even if you didn’t like what she was doing you should still have loved her and made it clear that you loved her. She hadno one. We had no one. You’re the reason she is the way she is! You’re the reason she has always been incapable of forming a proper relationship with anyone, including me.”

Dorothy felt as if she’d been punched. The shock of it made it hard to breathe. Whatever reaction she’d expected, it wasn’t this. Or maybe she’d been ridiculously hopeful. Naive. “Imogen, sweetheart—”

“I’m not your sweetheart. You made up your mind about that a long time ago.” She turned to Sara. “And I always thought it was a little odd that we’d never met, but now I understand. You were purposely avoiding me. You didn’t want anything to do with me, did you?”

Sara was white. “Imogen—”

“I have no idea what’s going on. I have no idea why I’m here now, what exactly has changed, but I’m not interested in being part of your bizarre social experiment. It’s too late. You weren’t there when my mother needed you, whenIneeded you, and I certainly don’t need you now. I’ll pack my things and leave, and you can call Rosalind to discuss any business issues, if you’re even interested in that side of things.” Imogen snatched up her coat and ran to the front door, narrowly avoiding Bailey, who was on the hunt for food.

Dorothy opened her mouth to say something that might stop her leaving, but all that emerged was a feeble croak.

Silenced by all the terrible accusations that Imogen had thrown at her, she couldn’t find any words.

Where should she start? What could she say or do to make this better?

By the time she was finally able to make her voice carry sufficiently to be heard, it was too late.

The front door slammed, the sound echoing through the house.

Imogen had gone.

14

Sara

This couldn’t be happening. Not now, after all these years.

She’d kept the trauma firmly in the past. She’d spent decades learning to block it out. She’d built friendships, and a family. She’d built a life.

If thoughts about that time ever entered her head, she ruthlessly ignored them. She didn’t talk about it. She was proud of the way she’d locked it all in a box and refused to give it even a morsel of her attention. It was a form of self-protection, and it had mostly worked. On the rare occasions her mother tried to talk about it, her response was visceral and physical. She was right back there, living that awful moment, feeling control slip away from her. She started to shake. Her heart pounded. Her palms became sweaty. She felt a tightening in her breath and a desire to run to a safe place and hide until the memories were back in the box. It was a scary experience and one she tried hard to avoid. She was sympathetic with her mother, but firm. She gave her the same message.You were not to blame.But then she moved her on. Not dwelling on it had been an important element in her ability to function normally.

She’d been doing well, but then her mother had struck up a relationship with Imogen.

This was the outcome she’d been afraid of for so long. From that first day when her mother had come home from a meeting with the conference company they were using and told her that Imogen was handling the account, she’d had a sense of impending doom. She’d known, deep down, that it was just a matter of time before the whole thing exploded.

And now it had.

She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’twantto remember.

Her mother’s actions had flipped open the lid of that box, and now the past was spilling back into her life. Wounds that she’d thought were healed opened up again, and she realized she hadn’t healed at all, she’d just bandaged it well and continued to function.

Panic closed over her, threatening to drown her. She wanted to call Patrick. She wanted to feel him wrap his arms tightly around her and promise to keep everything bad away. And she knew he’d come in an instant if she called.

She reached for her phone, but then she saw her mother sink onto the nearest chair and all thoughts of calling Patrick vanished from her mind.

However bad she was feeling, it was clear from her mother’s face that she was feeling worse.

She put her phone down.

---