Page 9 of Forgive Me Not
‘By the way, a couple of the posts in the goats’ fencing need to be reinforced,’ said Emma. ‘I’ve washed and refilled the food bowls, but the rabbits’ are cracked and could do with replacing. And maybe consider dragging that old bench into the goats’ enclosure. I’m sure they’d love to jump on top of it.’
Without looking back, Andrea disappeared into the farmhouse.
‘Right. I’ll be off. Look, Bligh… that last Christmas… I never meant to… The money… How did your dad manage?’
‘He lasted just one month after you left.’
Nausea backed up her throat. ‘He was a decent man – just like you.’
‘Save it.’ His voice had a dangerous edge.
‘Bligh… please… it’s Emmie, the girl you played chase with whilst your dad worked on the renovations; who made a sugar solution to save those exhausted bees down by Healdbury stream; who helped you bury that run-over fox.’ She touched his fingers as if that might ignite better memories.
Andrea appeared at the back door with Gail. ‘Thanks for coming in early, Bligh. I reckon we can pick most of the ripe strawberries today if we put our backs into it. I’m just going to give Mum breakfast.’
Emma and Andrea had loved picking strawberries as children. They had a secret rule – every third one went into their mouths. Emma loved the glossy red fruits with cream. Andrea preferred a simple sprinkling of sugar. When they were old enough, Gail taught them how to make jam. This prompted regular scone-making. Emma’s scones never looked quite as tall as Andrea’s, but Mum always insisted they were equally well-risen.
Emma longed for the old Gail. ‘Why not let me stay for a few more hours and look after Mum? That way, you two can get on without worrying.’
‘I’d like that,’ said Gail. ‘Breakfast with the woman who talks too much.’
Andrea folded her arms. ‘You’re joking, right? Why should I trust you?’
‘Please. She’s my mother too.’
Bligh clenched his teeth and looked from sister to sister. Gail’s eyes had lit up and she walked towards Emma.
‘Breakfast – that’s all I’m asking,’ said Emma.
‘I’m hungry. I never get fed at this place,’ whispered Gail. ‘No one gave me dinner last night, but you look kind.’
Andrea paused. Then she sighed. ‘Just for a couple of hours. But if Mum gets the slightest bit upset…’
‘She won’t. Thanks so much.’ Emma’s face lit up. ‘I really appreciate this.’
Bligh shook his head and walked over to the kitchen door.
‘I’m doing it for Mum,’ said Andrea curtly. ‘Just make sure your train ticket back to the city is one-way only.’
Chapter 5
Would Mum need to drink from a special beaker or wear a bib? Emma’s eyes pricked when she saw two identical places set at the table with tumblers and napkins. Perhaps her condition hadn’t become that bad. When they were little, she and Andrea used to think their mum was so sophisticated, with her strict table manners and weekend glass of sherry that she would sip during Saturday evening’s tea.
‘Just make sure she eats as much as possible. Her appetite’s waned lately,’ said Bligh. ‘Sometimes she’s more lucid and can hold a conversation. Others not. But we’re lucky, most of the time she seems content.’
Emma looked at Gail. The big clock ticked. The room missed her mum’s bustle and chat.
‘Why the rush to start work? Can’t the strawberries wait until your usual nine o’clock start?’
He shook his head. ‘They’re begging to be picked, plus I made a new batch of red onion chutney last week. I want to stick on the labels and put the jars out before I check the emails.’
‘I saw the computer. What’s with all the jiffy bags?’
‘We’ve recently set up online – we need to stretch our reach. Profits have dwindled since a huge out-of-town supermarket was built around twelve months ago. Its success has affected many other businesses in Healdbury – the butcher’s, the cheese shop and Phil’s pet shop. It’s early days, but our online sales are slowly expanding. There’s definitely a market for delivering home-grown organic vegetables. We’ve already secured several regular customers in south Manchester, and it’s not far to drive. As for the jiffy bags, they’re for the smaller, long-life items such as pickles and jams.’ Bligh turned to go outside. ‘At least we’ve got a decent amount of stock now, stacked up in your old room.’
Emma winced.
‘Right, I’ll be in the shop if you need me.’ He hesitated, as if reluctant to leave Emma in charge.
