Addie hooked her hair away from her face as she turned towards her sister. ‘No doubt. Dad’s things have been up there for so long. I’m quite looking forward to raking through old memories.’
‘True.’ She wasn’t sure how much Harry-worshipping she could do, though – probably very little compared to her sister. She decided to add a practical suggestion rather than getting lost in the emotion. ‘We should think about hiring a skip.’
‘I don’t think that’ll be necessary. We’ll want to keep some things.’
Well, that backfired – Addie no doubt thought she was about to chuck out as much as she could.
Harry had been a good father in so many ways and Susanna knew, much like Addie holding on to good things about the past, she was holding on to the bad parts.
‘How’s work going?’ she asked Addie in an effort to avoid anything contentious. Everyone around them was chattering, kids were giggling, people clustered at the side of the boat eager to see their destination when it finally came into view.
Addie talked about her job, and the recent presentation she’d worked so hard on plus the extra hours she’d been putting in.
‘Would you ever look for something different?’ Susanna only asked because Addie hadn’t seemed entirely happy, especially about the weekend work. Weekends were sacred for most people but particularly for a single mum.
‘When would I have the time?’ Addie smiled. ‘And besides, sometimes it’s better the devil you know. And my boss is quite nice really, at least when I’m not running late… again.’ She explained her recent tardiness and the coffee spill on her shirt.
‘Life happens, he should understand that. You aren’t always late, are you?’
She pulled a face. ‘A few times, in quick succession.’
‘But he knows you’re a parent, right?’
‘He does.’
‘Then maybe he should be looking at giving you a little more flexibility rather than making you feel bad about yourself.’
Addie began to smile. ‘You’re just like Dad was. He never took any crap from anyone.’
Susanna looked out at the white crests on the waves. ‘I’m more like Mum than Dad.’
‘Right…’ she heard Addie say.
Susanna was beginning to feel unwell and the last thing she wanted to do was talk about their dad, not when it brought a whole lot of stress when their differing opinions and memories emerged. She shifted her gaze to the horizon to hopefully quell any more nausea.
She wondered whether she should talk about Alex, confide in her sister some more but when she turned to face Addie her sister was looking out across the water.
Perhaps silence was the best thing for them both right now.
And as the land mass of Anchor Island became visible, they stayed quiet, both sisters looking in opposite directions, waiting for the inevitable moment when they stepped onto dry land.
Back to the island they’d both left behind. Back to memories of the woman who’d been their last remaining connection to family and who had hurt Susanna so much that Susanna had never forgiven her for it.
She wondered if, were Gayle still alive, she would have been able to find forgiveness towards her aunt. And would her aunt really have wanted it, or had she been glad to get her life and her café back to herself?
7
GAYLE
When Gayle Rafferty decided to plan her own living funeral, she hadn’t expected it to backfire quite so spectacularly.
‘Oh, you’re in trouble.’ Nancy, her second in command at the Sweet Life Café on Anchor Island, put a dollop of cream on the side of a big triangular slice of cherry pie and pushed the plate closer to Gayle.
This café, conveniently situated only a short stroll away from the front door of Gayle’s cottage, was her life. She’d built the business herself and knew that it would be with her until the day she died. She hoped that would be later rather than sooner, but over the last month she’d begun to get a bad feeling that something sinister was brewing. A couple of weeks ago she’d fainted at home, and came round, terrified, when nobody else was there. She hadn’t told a soul what had happened, but she was always waiting for a repeat performance, especially as she’d had other symptoms. She often had tummy pains and she felt sick; she got through the days with a smile and the same air of control she’d always had, but inside she’d been breaking with concern about her health and whether her time would soon be up.
Her spoon hovered over the golden shortcrust pastry with cherries oozing from its centre. She didn’t need Nancy to tell her she was in trouble. ‘Susanna and Addie are not going to be happy with me,’ she told her employee and very good friend, before a small smile tentatively formed on her lips. ‘But at least this way they’ll come.’
Nancy collected Gayle’s latte from the espresso machine. ‘They said that?’ When Gayle didn’t respond, she prompted, ‘You did call each of them to let them know your mistake, didn’t you?’
