The Secret Art of Forgiveness Read online

  ‘Oh, yes! Fine sir. I’ve seen them do this on Strictly.’ Greta shoved herself up from her chair and took his hands. They began to shuffle around the floor, giggling, heads back, feet tangling in a very poor imitation of what Emily thought was a waltz.

  Sally stood on a chair and conducted them round the room. ‘To the left… left! I said, left! Watch out for the washing basket! One, two, three… Emily, slow down! Tom, it’s a waltz not a tango… Oh, my God, you two are priceless. I should video this… no… no, I’m going to sort out that hair before it drives me nuts. Hang on, I’ll just get my sciss…What was that?’

  A door slammed somewhere close. The music snapped off. The air around them shimmered with a mounting tension.

  ‘WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?’

  ‘Oh.’ Emily stopped short, her heart banging along in quickstep-time even though the room was silent. The Judge’s happy smile fell and her friends shuffled back to their seats. It looked definitively as if the party was over. Her mood swiftly nosediving, she finally found her voice. ‘Well, hello, Tamara. Hi, Tilda. You’re back early.’

  Chapter Nine

  Emily felt as if she was back at school and facing detention. She shuffled out into the corridor and took Tamara and Tilda with her, not wanting the others to witness the dressing down that was inevitable. Tam excelled at that, at making Emily feel as if she wasn’t good enough, that everything she did was wrong. ‘Nice to see you, but you didn’t have to come back early on my account.’

  ‘We wanted to have a conversation with you about the next steps for Daddy… er, Judge Evans… whatever you call him these days… before you go. There are things we need to decide and we have to include you, the lawyer says, as you’re still in the will and still get to have a say. Apparently.’ There were two lines between Tamara’s eyes that were ridged and deep. Tam clearly frowned a lot. She was dressed all in black – coat, trousers, sweater, shoes – as if she’d been at a funeral and not on holiday for a week in Paris. Her hair was dyed a deep brown, darker than Emily remembered it, and she looked a lot older than forty.

  In contrast, Matilda was wearing a floaty orange silk skirt, knee-length brown-suede boots and a cream jacket. A multicoloured scarf hung from her neck. Always the more chic sister. Older than Emily by eight years and relentlessly bossed around by her elder sister, Emily had always hoped there could be some filial connection between them that wasn’t a battleground. Unfortunately, judging by her equally frowning stare, there couldn’t.

  There were no hugs hello, no air kisses or handshakes, just the standard disapproval that Emily had come to accept as her sisters’ reaction to her.

  She looked back into the kitchen and watched as Tom pulled a rug over The Judge’s knees, fussing around him and making sure he was comfortable. So rare to see that kind of compassion in someone so young. I must tell him that.

  She reminded herself that what they’d been doing was a good thing. In fact, it was immeasurable in terms of healing the rift between them, in creating new memories… and even if The Judge wouldn’t be able to recall any of this tomorrow, she could tell him about the impromptu cocktail party and watch his face light up as he lived it anew. She remembered how he’d recognised her and felt a warm glow thaw the ice she was getting from her stepsister.

  And right then she decided something. ‘It’s okay, you can call him Daddy in front of me. I might just do so from now on, too.’

  The look on Tam’s face was priceless confusion and shock. ‘Oh. I see. Call him what you want, you always have, it’s your relationship. I should probably go and check on him.’

  Emily stood in her way, unwilling to let her upset spill over onto her friends and The Judge and sully all the fun they’d just been having. And not wanting them to see the haircut they hadn’t got around to fixing. Please, someone find him a hat. ‘He’s fine. Honestly. In fact, he’s a lot better.’

  ‘I want to make sure for myself.’ Tam squeezed by her and popped her head around the kitchen door, then came back immediately. ‘They’re washing up and he’s fast asleep in the corner. You’ve exhausted him.’

  ‘It’s probably the gin, to be honest. And the vodka… or was it vermouth?’ She shrugged, thanking her lucky stars for dingy corners. ‘It might have been both.’

  And, oh, hell. She realised she’d reverted back to being a child when speaking to Tam. A psychologist would have had a field day watching them in action. Gone was Emily’s confident New York demeanour and she was back to being eight and in trouble all over again.

  Those two little lines on Tam’s forehead seemed to get deeper. ‘He’s drinking ALCOHOL on his tablets? Are you insane?’

  ‘Possibly. But he was having fun and that’s important, right? Living his days out happily. No one told me he couldn’t drink on them, it didn’t say so on the packet, and the doctor didn’t mention it. Someone would have said if it was dangerous.’

  Tilda, who’d been standing back now joined in. ‘He’s not well, Emily. He could fall and break a hip. And you know what that means? Certain death in a frail man like that.’

  She thought back to the fun he’d been having after the intense sadness in his confusion. ‘He was enjoying himself, Tilda. Which I don’t think he’s done for a while.’

  Tam dropped the suitcase she’d been gripping and took off her coat. ‘It’s easy for you to stand there and say that, but you’re not with him all the time. It’s easier to keep him in the library doing the crossword. At least that way we know he’s safe and won’t come to any harm.’

  ‘Let him moulder, you mean? You know as well as I do that he just puts random letters in the boxes.’ For a brief second Em wanted to stick her tongue out at her two stepsisters, as she’d done so many times behind their backs and often to their faces – then she realised just how quickly they’d been sucked back into their old familiar roles. The chastising, and the chastised. The I know better and the thoroughly told off. Cringing inside, she willed herself to calm down and be the adult here. ‘Look, we don’t need to argue about this. He just needs to be stimulated, I read up about it on the internet. Dr Shepherd’s arranging for a visiting service and they may even take him to a day-care centre once a week. They do crafts and quizzes and things.’

  ‘Oh, so you’re the expert now? Been here a whole six days and you think you can tell us what to do?’

  She felt the blood rushing to her cheeks, through her body. Why did this have to be so damned hard between them? ‘No, it’s not like that at all – I just want what’s best for him. We all do, but we have different ways of looking at it.’

  ‘You just had the luxury of time to help him, right? I don’t have that. I have a full-time job in case you’ve forgotten and Tilda has her art and a husband to look after.’

  Tilda opened her mouth, closed it again. Then nodded.

  And it was the same as it ever was; two against one.

  She only hoped they didn’t notice the haircut, or she’d be flown off to Heathrow airport on one of their broomsticks before she had the chance to pack.

  ‘I know it’s hard. And I had no idea what was going on until I came here.’ Emily was too tired and overemotional to argue, so she walked them through to the library and sat them down out of earshot of the others. ‘Look, I want to help… somehow. We need to talk about the roof and selling off some land and his long-term care and… I’ve had some quotes for things and been to see the GP…’

  Greta, Tom and Sally suddenly appeared, looking sheepish and rather more sober than before. Sal smiled an uncertain smile. ‘Hi, ladies. How was Paris?’

  Yikes. Em cringed. She hadn’t even asked about Sylvie; they’d just slotted right back into their roles of grumpy stepsisters. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, I should have asked, how’s your mum?’

  ‘She’s doing well, thank you. There’s not a lot wrong with her, just physically slowing down, but her mind’s as fit as a fiddle.’ Tam wrung her hands together, looking more anxious than angry. ‘Let’s hope we have her genes, right? A
nyway, don’t want to keep you, Sally. Greta.’

  Sally nodded. ‘Yes, I imagine you’ll need a good catch-up before Emily swans off back to her gorgeous fiancé?’

  Oh-oh. There was a sinking feeling in Em’s stomach as Tam’s eyes widened, her gaze flicking down to Emily’s bare fingers. ‘What? You’re getting married?’

  ‘I’m engaged. Yes.’

  ‘Someone wants to marry you? Really?’ Tam’s eyes flitted to Tilda’s and back again as if this was the most fantastical thing she’d ever heard. ‘The man deserves a medal.’

  Emily bit the inside of her cheek. ‘Well, it was all down to bribery in the end. I offered him my vast fortune and the promise of vacations here with you every Christmas, Easter and the whole of July. How could he resist that?’

  Tom coughed. Sally’s eyes widened. Greta’s cheeks went a very dark red.

  But there was a brightening in Tam’s eyes. Was Em imagining it, or was there a little softening in her stepsister’s demeanour? Glad to be totally and finally relieved of the burden of her silly stepsister? Or did she just enjoy sparring? ‘Engaged, eh? Why didn’t you say?’

  Because I didn’t think you’d care. Because I want to talk to someone about my weird mixed feelings and you’re not that person. I’m not sure who is. Frankie?

  God, she missed her New York friend. She missed not having to think about these things; The Judge, the roof, the engagement. The luxury of ignorance, the luxury of thinking only of herself, and not taking anyone else into account.

  So, yes, she missed being selfish.

  Sally beamed and tugged on Emily’s hand. ‘Show her the ring. Go on. Oh, my God, it’s amazing. Tiffany, and everything. Oh… where’s the bling? Don’t say you’ve lost it?’

  ‘Oh no. It’s just upstairs for safekeeping. I was gardening and wanted to protect it.’ And somehow, as she’d taken it off, it felt as if she’d lifted a weight from her chest. This couldn’t go on. She’d sit down and talk things through with him properly when she got home. ‘I’ll show it to you later.’

  ‘Well, we’ll be going, then, love. Sean’s waiting down the road.’ Greta pulled her in for a hug that was warm and friendly and hopeful. ‘Don’t be a stranger, okay? Come back very soon. And friend me on every social media platform you can – I want to know everything about your life! And I’ll try not to fill your feeds with goofy pictures of my two – although there may be the odd photo slipped in when they’re being especially cute. So, probably when they’re asleep, then. Bye, hun.’

  ‘Bye, Greta, and give those lovely two bubs a kiss from me.’

  Oh, God, this was hard. She hadn’t thought it was going to be as difficult to say goodbye as this, especially with an audience. There was nothing private about living here. It had made her claustrophobic years ago, but now she saw it as having people in her corner. Which was perfect at this very moment, with Tam and Tilda breathing fire over her.

  It was Sal’s turn to hug her next. ‘I’m sorry everything was so hard, Em, but promise me you’ll be back?’

  She would not cry. ‘Yes. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Hey, come visit?’

  ‘Send me an invite and I’ll be on the first plane over – oh, yes… the wedding! I’ll be there for that and don’t think for a minute you can’t invite me.’

  ‘Oh, I will… yes, the wedding.’ Whenever that was going to be. ‘Let me know about Liam, okay?’

  Then it was Tom stepping forward. ‘Come here, give me a hug.’

  She wrapped her arms around his young frame and squeezed until his bones almost cracked. ‘If I’d had a brother, I’d have wanted him to be just like you. Thank you for looking after The Judge for me. Keep an eye on things, eh?’

  ‘Sure will, el capitaine.’ He saluted.

  She hugged him again. ‘If Liam and Sally aren’t an item by the time I come back, I’ll hold you entirely responsible.’

  ‘Right you are. Matchmaking services up and running.’ He grinned. ‘See ya.’

  With a heavy weight sitting on her chest she walked them to the door and waved them down the gravel driveway, laughing as they waved to her right until they reached the bottom of the drive.

  Then she walked slowly back to face the music.

  Tam and Tilda had poured themselves each a glass of water by the time Emily had sauntered – very slowly – back inside. They were discussing something but broke off immediately she walked into the room. Awkward.

  Tam looked up. ‘That was very touching, I must say. All pals again, I see?’

  ‘Yes. Kind of. Well, we’re working on it, anyway.’ It had been excruciating when Em had all but pushed her way into Sally’s life again, but it had been worth it and they’d bridged that chasm between them.

  She doubted that was something she could do here with the girls, and yet she suddenly wanted to try. If not for their sakes, then for The Judge’s.

  Em sat opposite them, a glass-topped coffee table between their knees. She tried to adopt an adult, organised and entirely professional tone with them. ‘Okay. My flight’s early tomorrow, so I have a taxi booked at a silly time. So, er, why don’t we use our time efficiently and get a few things sorted out? Calmly, you know, like grown-ups.’

  Professional, it wasn’t.

  ‘We are –’ Tam’s voice rose as sharply as her shoulders, then stopped as Em barked back, unable to stop herself; living, breathing proof that she was really eleven again, ‘No we’re not. You’ve just come in here and shouted at me as if a decade hasn’t gone by. As if we’re not capable grown-ups. There wasn’t even a hello, how are you?’

  It was the wrong thing to say, but she didn’t know what the right thing was either. She felt her cheeks flush as deep as Greta’s had a few moments ago. This was so hard.

  She softened her voice. Trying. Trying. Wishing it could be easier but knowing it wasn’t all one-sided. Tam and Tilda hadn’t welcomed her with open arms all those years ago, but she’d hardly been the perfect little sister either. They had a lot of catching up to do, and some more growing up, too. ‘I mean, we need to calmly talk things through. We need a plan. I know it’s hard, Tam, I’ve been here a week and I’m exhausted.’

  Tam’s shoulders relaxed. ‘Okay. Yes. Let’s be adults here.’

  If that was possible.

  An hour later and they’d reached a sort of consensus. Emily wrapped things up. ‘So, to be clear; you’re happy for the visiting service to come in. He’s going to try the day-care centre and you want me to sell off half the land –’

  Tam shuddered and her face was as white as the walls. ‘At the southern end so we don’t have to drive past every day and see what we’ve been forced to do.’

  ‘Yes, the southern end. And with some of the proceeds we can sort out the roof, do up some of the outhouses and rent them out as offices or homes. First priority is to try to leverage some cash as a matter of urgency so we can get the holes in the roof fixed here. You’ll talk to the bank on Monday.’

  Tam nodded curtly. ‘I’ll add it to my extremely long list. I do have to do my job as well as look after him and now this, Emily. Not to mention I’ve found myself chair of the fair committee – as usual – because if I didn’t do it, who would? But it all takes its toll.’

  ‘Still at the insurance company in Cheltenham?’

  ‘Yes. And they’ve always been very supportive and let me work from here a lot of the time, but they’re not going to tolerate me using work time to do all this extra…’ She paused. Hauled in a breath. Tam’s hands hadn’t stopped wringing throughout the conversation. She glanced towards the door, then back at Emily. ‘He’d hate it. He’d hate that we’re selling off his life. I promised him I wouldn’t. And I promised him I wouldn’t put him in a home.’

  So she did have a heart. Emily knew she had, but was surprised to see her stepsister so animated and… open. ‘It hasn’t come to that, yet. But it might. Dr Shepherd said we need to discuss what’s going to happen to him long-term. It’s hard, I know, to think about him goi
ng into care, but there will come a time when he can’t be here, for his own safety. Even if you did make him promises, sometimes you have to admit that it’s just too hard to keep them.’

  Tilda nodded. ‘When I think of him up here on his own even for a few hours during the day I worry so much. I’ve even brought some of my work up and tried to do it and keep an eye on him – but it’s hard to concentrate on being creative and being a babysitter, too.’

  ‘The art, then? Still doing that?’ She’d seen some of Matilda’s art on her website. She was good; cutesy quirky animals with a backdrop of the Gloucestershire landscape and landmarks. The animals doing very human things, like carrying shopping baskets or sitting on bicycles, their eyes made bigger, anthropomorphic. It wasn’t Emily’s kind of thing, but she could see the tourist appeal.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And how’s it going?’

  Matilda looked down at her hands. ‘It’ll be fine. I’m sure.’

  ‘What? Have you got artist’s block?’ She meant it as a joke.

  But Matilda replied so quietly that Emily had to strain to hear her, ‘Something like that.’

  Tam huffed. ‘Oh, come on, you might as well tell her, she’s going to find out sooner or later.’

  Tilda glared at her sister. ‘I… well, I’m going to –’

  Tam huffed again. ‘She’s going to leave Stuart. She’s going home right after this and she’s going to pack her things and come and stay with me. I know my cottage is tiny, but we’ll muddle through, won’t we?’

  Things were clearly not going well in most parts of her sisters’ lives. Emily’s heart twisted. She hadn’t been there for them. They hadn’t been there for her either. That wasn’t how families were supposed to be. And then she remembered Tam’s email about Matilda needing time out, or something. ‘But, why –?’

  ‘It’s all decided.’ Tilda smiled, weakly. ‘I just have to be brave enough to get the words out.’

  ‘That’s hard on you. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be. I don’t think he will be. Well, he might miss having his dinner cooked for him seven days a week, but he can always get a ready-made in. I’m not staying around just because someone needs feeding. He’s got two hands; he can fix something for himself. Unless he’s died of starvation while I’ve been away. Although I doubt it.’