When Susanna came back to the cottage, Gayle was rinsing out their cups. She turned around from her position at the sink and announced, ‘Your rooms are made up.’
Susanna shook her head. ‘We’ll stay at the inn.’
Without looking at them again Gayle simply said, ‘If you like. But your rooms are ready, they’re free, and you have fresh sheets and towels. There’s shower gel in the bathroom, bath salts too.’
‘You were that sure we’d come?’ Susanna demanded before Addie could even get out athank you.
‘I wasn’t sure at all,’ Gayle said defeatedly, finally lifting her gaze. ‘I’m going to turn in. You girls will want to talk. And I’ve got?—’
‘An early start,’ Susanna finished for her, turning away to face the window that looked out over Evergreen Close.
Aunt Gayle had always been an early riser. Even if she didn’t immediately go over to the café, she would be doing something related to the business, whether it was talking to one of her staff on the phone about supplies or baking puddings here at the cottage to transport over there. Addie suspected operations still worked in much the same way – nothing but raw ingredients brought in, every pudding made from scratch, just the way the customers liked it.
‘Goodnight,’ said Aunt Gayle.
‘Goodnight,’ said Addie in return.
Susanna said nothing, and when Gayle had gone, she sat down at the table.
When they heard the groan of the pipes as Aunt Gayle used the bathroom at the end of the corridor, she asked, ‘What did she have to say for herself when I was out?’
Addie didn’t want to admit it, but even with the silence between them it had felt wonderful to sit in front of this woman who had tried so hard over the years. Addie wasn’t sure Gayle ever stood a chance with two sisters who had lost so much, who’d agreed they would one day leave, and one of whom pushed against being here right up until the day she left. Addie had followed in her sister’s footsteps when she hadn’t had to. She’d done it partly out of loyalty but also because she was scared to do anything else. It had always been the two of them, sisters together, united, who could take whatever was dealt to them.
‘We didn’t talk,’ Addie explained.
‘But you must have talked a little.’
‘No, we just waited for you.’
‘I’m surprised she didn’t want to talk about her death.’ Susanna harrumphed.
‘You’re angry?—’
‘Aren’t you?’
‘Sshhhhh…’ Addie kept her voice low. ‘Yes, I’m annoyed. But?—’
‘But what?’
Aunt Gayle’s bedroom was downstairs, and she didn’t want their voices heard through the walls. ‘Why don’t we go upstairs out of the way and talk there?’
‘So we’re staying?’
‘It’s late, the rooms are right there, and they’re free.’
‘I guess we might as well then.’ Susanna led the way, hauling her suitcase and bags up the stairs, Addie behind her.
‘I’ll put my things in my room and come into yours,’ said Addie. It was the way it had generally worked when they were younger. Addie’s bedroom was above Gayle’s, and they’d been well aware of making too much noise so they usually met in Susanna’s. Addie had slept in there for a while when they’d first moved in, and Susanna had let her. Her big sister had comforted her every time she’d had a bad dream, like the recurring dream about their parents being out of reach on a bridge, with her below calling up to them. Even now, thinking about that dream made her feel nauseous and scared of it happening again. But it hadn’t happened for years. Instead, every once in a while she had pleasant dreams about their parents, mostly about their dad, and sometimes woke smiling like she’d seen him for real while she was asleep.
On the way up the stairs, Addie wondered whether her room would have all sorts of paraphernalia dotted about, things Gayle didn’t know what to do with. Everyone had one of those rooms or cupboards, didn’t they? She had one at the flat, a big cupboard with shoes littering the bottom and five or six deep shelves. She called it her no-bloody-idea cupboard, which Isaac had picked up on, and she had to admit that although it wasn’t good to teach him naughty words, it always sounded so hilarious when he said it with an air of seriousness as if that was its real name.
She pushed open the door to her old bedroom. It was as though time had stood still in here. The furniture was all in the same spot, even the wicker chair in front of the small dressing table still had its blue and white checked gingham seat with the small area of out-of-place stitching from a part of it that Gayle had had to sew up for her more than once.
It was oddly comforting to know that in all this time Aunt Gayle hadn’t wiped away the last traces of the Rafferty girls.
She hung up her coat and got out her pyjamas and washbag, both of which she put on top of the chest of drawers, and then she went into Susanna’s room. Her sister was taking her make-up off in front of the same mirror that had always been on the back of the door. It was full-length and Addie had often come in to check her reflection as she only had the mirror on top of her dressing table and so could only see herself in it if she stood on the bed.
Susanna looked into the mirror to meet Addie’s gaze as she wiped an eyelid gently with a piece of cotton wool. ‘Sorry I’m so grouchy.’ She smelled of the same Diptyque perfume she’d used for years, a scent fragranced with water lilies and another floral bouquet. Addie usually stole some when she was visiting, it was so luxurious compared to her cheaper supermarket-bought versions.
