Page 45 of Good Sisters

‘So was she. It made her so happy.’

‘Are you still seeing Dolores?’

‘I am, but we’re just pals. She’s a bit of company. We play golf and have lunch in the golf club.’

‘Be careful, Dad, she’s looking for more than friendship.’

‘Ah, no, she knows the score.’

Dad was delusional if he thought Dolores was going to be happy with the odd lunch going forward. She was on a mission to hook him in.

‘How’s work?’ Dad asked, sticking to safer ground.

‘Busy as ever, but I’m struggling with this snowflake intern, Zoë. She got dumped on me by Walter, the managing partner. She’s his goddaughter and honestly, Dad, she is the most self-obsessed, lazy, unprofessional employee I’ve ever had to deal with.’

‘Did you talk to Walter about it?’

‘I did, but he asked me to hang on to her for a year as a personal favour.’

‘And you can’t say no to the managing partner.’

‘Exactly.’

‘I had a few employees in my day that were difficult. You have to learn to manage them. Try to find a way to keep her busy but away from you, so you only have to deal with her occasionally.’

‘Good advice, I’ll do that. We’re a small team, but I definitely need to see less of her. And, to be fair, I’m not sleeping well with the Clara-wanting-to-meet-her-dad thing hanging over me, so I’m probably less tolerant than usual.’

Dad burst out laughing. ‘Because you’re so tolerant normally.’

I chuckled. ‘Fair point.’

It felt nice to laugh with Dad. We hadn’t done it in a long time. I was so lucky to have such a brilliant dad. I ached for Clara’s loss, but what could I do? I would just have to be the best mother and father for her.

12. Sophie

Louise plonked a big box on Julie’s kitchen counter, followed by Harry with two more. She had asked us all to meet up in Julie’s because she had found more of Mum’s stuff. What we had already gone through had been divvied up between us or donated to the charity shop, and we thought it was all done – until Dad had asked Louise to check the attic.

‘Most of it is old coats and shoes that Mum no longer wore and some bags and hats,’ Louise said, as she pulled back the lids of the boxes. ‘I’ve no idea why she stuck it up in the attic instead of just getting rid of it, but I thought you’d like to see it before I give it all to the charity shop.’

I poked about, but I had enough coats, shoes and hats and, besides, most of it was old-fashioned, and not in a cool vintage way, but in a decidedly uncool seventies and eighties way. But then I spied something tucked away at the bottom. There was no mistaking that it was a designer bag.

‘Oooh, can I have this?’ I asked, holding up the silver leather clutch bag. ‘It’s gorgeous. Not very Mum, but I love it.’

‘Fine by me,’ Julie said.

‘Hang on.’ Louise took it from my hand. ‘That’s my Prada clutch bag. I lent this to Mum years ago. I totally forgot about it.’

‘Oh. Do you want it back?’

‘No, you can have it,’ she said, handing it to me.

‘Really?’

‘Sure. It’s too small, barely holds anything.’

I was delighted. I’d sold all of my designer clothes and accessories to pay the rent when Jack lost his business, and designer items were no longer in my budget, so this was a treat.

‘Coffee, anyone?’ Harry asked.

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