‘He wants to leave?’ I felt proud but sad.
‘Yes. I think,’ she said, and I didn’t feel confident enough to probe further.
‘Do you like him?’ I asked, my eyes filling with tears.
‘Yes, I like him very much. What’s not to like? He’s warm. Kind. Smart. Talented. What more could one ask for, in a new half-brother.’
I felt a tear fall down my cheek and for a moment I forgot myself. ‘Will he ever forgive me?’
‘I think they understand the whole picture now,’ she said carefully, and I could tell from the way Heather wouldn’t look at me that they had discussed it at length. I winced. ‘Birdy. James will forgive you. I’m pretty sure he was in love with you. He probably still is.’
I took in a sharp breath.In love with you.
‘Just give me some time there on my own,’ Heather said. ‘Then we’ll see.’
A couple of days later she’d gone. To Loch Dorn, to work with Irene and get the place back up on its feet. Russell had left, and Mr MacDonald was working to put the building into a trust and hand over full running of the place to Irene.
And now I am readying myself to head back there too. I have spent ten weeks waiting for Heather to say I could come, and now she has. In that time I’ve done some work. Heather very generously agreed to let me house-sit for her, since the Airbnb high season was coming to a close. I begged for a job at The Wine Library, which Brigitte agreed to. I earned fuck-all an hour, but it was great to have something to do. I went to see a therapist, and it was actually pretty helpful. His name was Alexander Dumpf – obviously chosen for his comical name – and he looked a bit like a healthy version of my dad. He cost me everything I earned at The Wine Library, but we’ve made a bit of progress in thelast two months and it turns out I’m a negative, sarcastic motherfucker because I never learned how to express joy without feeling ridiculed. It also turns out that having an alcoholic for a father, and a disengaged mother, has given me some kind of attachment issues, which means that I avoid honest, open relationships. Also, for the record, lying can be a trait of people with emotionally detached parents. Apparently I do it for approval.
I’m not sure if knowing that I’ve actually got some real problems to work through helps or makes me feel worse about myself, but for now I’ll keep at it.
I look back down at the Facebook request, take a deep breath and hit Accept. For a second it feels like a bigger, more symbolic acceptance of myself. I look down a moment later and there is already a message.
Hello, Elizabeth? Or can I call you Birdy? OMG YOU’RE TERRIBLE!
I’m not 100 per cent sure if Roxy’s angry or laughing at me, but I do owe her a sincere apology.
I’m so sorry, Roxy. It was a dumb, shit thing to do.
I couldn’t believe it! No one could believe it!
I’m sorry. Really, I wish I’d never done it.
You’re completely infamous now, you know. Matthew Hunt wants you to do the next wine-night.
What?
Yeah, Forgery and Fraudsters was the suggested theme. About counterfeit wine! You’re something of a legend now. LOL.
Oh dear God. Roxy, I’m so sorry.
It’s okay. I forgive you. At least I know I wasn’t going crazy now #gaslighter
Sorry.
You should be
What are you going to do next?
I’m sticking around, now there’s a proper sommelier to learn from.No wonder you made me do all the ordering.
Okay, I deserve that.
Bill has gone to rehab.
REALLY?
Irene took him; he wasn’t happy, but everyone says it’s for the best and that they hope he will be back.
