Page 24 of Forgive Me Not
‘You look worn out. Today’s taken its toll what with you having to go to the hospital on top of everything else, and… and I know I didn’t help, taking Mum into the village.’ Emma’s voice softened. ‘Please. Let me help, Andrea – for your sake as well as hers.’
‘But she won’t understand who you are if you call her Mum, and any confusion… that’s when she’s most scared.’
‘Then I won’t tell her who I am. I’ll only call her Gail.’
‘You’d really agree to that?’ scoffed Andrea. ‘Because this visit is simply about easing your conscience, isn’t it? It’s not as if you really care.’
I do, Emma thought, and pushed away her mug. More than you’ll ever know. I hate the deep circles around your eyes. I’d do anything to stop Mum looking vacant and directionless.
‘If that’s what it takes, I’ll not say a word. I’ll take her out. Keep her busy. Help you two where I can if she’s having a sleep or just contented to watch. I can help make jam. Man the shop. I can do the shopping and look after the animals. I’ll more than pull my weight. And I’ve been thinking of some ideas to improve things on the farm. I can see money’s tight. What about—’
‘Whoa!’ Bligh held up his hand. ‘After everything – after today – you’re asking for our trust?’ He faced Andrea. ‘You need to think very carefully about letting her stay longer. I don’t want to see you and Gail hurt again.’
Bligh used to be someone who believed in giving people another chance. Like the friend at school who stole his Kings of Leon CD. Like the new grain supplier who muddled up the first order.
Emma held her sister’s stare as if patiently waiting for an internet connection.
‘I’m not lending you any money,’ Andrea said eventually. ‘And theonlyreason I’m agreeing to this – temporarily – is that I just don’t have the time to give to Mum at the moment. She deserves some one-on-one attention – even if it’s from you.’
‘Thanks, I really—’
‘Just keep out of my way. You can use the shower and the kitchen when I’m not around, but that’s it. And if I find any money missing… if I smell anything stronger than tea on your breath, you’re gone.’
Bligh pursed his lips, put his mug in the sink and abruptly left. The back door swung shut and the two sisters sat in silence as the rain fell harder.
‘You should get an early night,’ said Emma with a tentative smile. ‘Remember what a night owl you were as a teenager? You were always reading or chatting on your phone, and there was that phase when you binge-watchedFriends. Secretly you’d let me watch too, even though Mum said I was too young. I felt so grown up.’
Andrea actually met her gaze for a moment and then shook her head. ‘You think I’ve ever had the opportunity for an early night since you left? You haven’t got any idea, have you, what the last few years have been like?’ She broke the brief eye contact. ‘You’ve only been back a couple of days and already I’m sick of you saying sorry. It’s as if you expect that word to magically shut down the past in the way that saying abracadabra opens doors.’ She drained her mug. ‘You know, I had ambitions too – away from Foxglove Farm.’
Emma’s brow knotted as Andrea got up, brushed past and went to the sink. She ran some water and squirted in washing-up liquid. ‘You always assumed thatyouwere the one with big dreams. That reliable old Andrea was more than happy to keep Mum company on the farm.’
Emma’s mind rewound to their schooldays. ‘Is this about travel?’ she said in a small voice. ‘I remember now… you were desperate to go to America. In fact you drew up a bucket list: you wanted to visit every continent by the age of forty.’ And her paintings were usually set in foreign countries too. Was that it? Andrea was just over thirty now, and as far as Emma knew, she had never even holidayed outside of Britain.
‘When you finally reached eighteen, I felt that perhaps my time had come. I’d helped Mum see you through to adulthood. I was twenty-three and ready to leave.’
As Emma listened, a tide of shame swept over her, pooling into all the nooks and crevices, so that when it pulled back, puddles still lingered.
‘I had no idea.’
‘Of course you didn’t – your life revolved around having a good laugh, as you called it.’ Andrea abandoned the washing-up and rummaged in a drawer, pulling out some paracetamol. She poured a glass of water and knocked back two tablets, then pushed the kitchen chair in and stared out of the window.
‘You can stay for a few days, Emma, but then you must leave. Foxglove Farm, Mum, Bligh, me – this is no more your life than mine is to travel the world.’ She headed to the dining room and switched off the computer. ‘Don’t forget to lock the door on your way out.’
Chapter 9
Somehow a few days stretched into two weeks. A fortnight at the farm passed as quickly as her life in the city had dragged. Each day Emma buttoned Gail’s tops and brushed her hair, helped her clean her teeth and made sure she got into bed okay – all the busy things she would have been doing if…
She wrapped her arms around a cushion. Andrea still insisted on doing the bedtime routine. A small glass of sherry apparently helped Gail to sleep. Andrea would sit in her room until she nodded off. Emma walked past once, on her way from the bathroom, and heard Andrea quietly singing Gail a favourite eighties ballad.
Emma had seen lots of Stig and helped him whenever she could, along with the other homeless. More had trickled into the village. She’d started to talk to shopkeepers. A few answered her. Some, like old Mrs Beatty, didn’t.
At the moment she was sitting in the lounge, watching the breakfast news – a new privilege of late. Soon Gail would wake up. Footsteps approached from the kitchen – her sister. Emma pretended to watch the telly.
Things had been awkward with Bligh since coming back, but at least they’d started to chat a bit.
‘But weren’t you scared the whole time you were on the streets of getting attacked?’ he’d asked.
Yes. But there was no need to tell him that.
