Nell rocked back on her heels. “No, Caro, it isn’t. There was a woman before him.”
“Oh.”
Nell stared at the floor.I’m like the salad cream, splattered across the floor and unable to fit back into the jar.
The sound of slippers shuffling closer broke the trance Nell realised she’d drifted into again. She tied the bag of sodden tissues and glass and stood up. “Nearly finished,” she said, before her mother had chance to pass judgement on their cleaning prowess.
“We’re all waiting for you so we can start supper.” Her mother pursed her lips. “A new jar of salad cream is on the table.”
“Marvellous.”
Her mother sniffed. “Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Nell.”
In her peripheral vision, Nell saw Caroline slap her hand over her mouth to suppress a giggle.
“Bring some extra side plates with you. Come now, both of you.”
Caroline held Nell back as their mother left the kitchen. She let out her laughter with a hysterical snort. “I feel like I’m seven again.”
Nell gripped her sister’s hand. “Do you hate me?”
“No, Nelly, of course I don’t. But I’d like to understand.” Caroline poked at Nell’s chest. “You, big sister, have a lot of explaining to do.”
Relief flooded her at the sincerity on Caroline’s face and the unexpectedly warm, generous eyes considering her. “Later,” she said.
They were sitting in the parlour, Christmas tree, sans tinsel, in the corner, and curtains closed. Everyone else had managed to escape to their respective local homes. Nell was the only one who lived further away, which was why she stayed for a few nights. God forbid she should suggest staying at a hotel. Instead of watching a re-run ofA Christmas Carolor a festive edition of a quiz show, the three of them were reading. Unable to focus on anything after her conversation with Caroline, she’d snagged her father’s seeds catalogue and was drawing up a mental shortlist of purchases. Was it worth trying to grow cauliflower next year?
“You’ve been quite peculiar all evening, Nell,” her mother said, glancing at her over theRadio Times.
Nell’s pulse ticked higher as she looked up from the catalogue. “Peculiar how?”
“Skittish.” Her mother’s nostrils flared. “Bordering on hysteria.”
“I’m not hysterical.” Broad beans? Maybe not, she still had bags of them in the freezer from this year’s crop.
Her mother peered over the top of her glasses. “You’re certainly something.”
“I certainly am.”
“Nell!” Her father slapped the newspaper into his lap. “There’s no need for insolence.”
She tossed the seeds catalogue on the side table and stood. Now she’d said these words once, to Caroline, they refused to be contained. “I’ve met someone new. A woman.”
TheRadio Timesfell from her mother’s fingers and dropped into her lap. Her eyes bulged. “A woman? You mean you?—”
“Yes, Mother, a woman. And I do mean whatever it is you can’t bring yourself to say.” The brie Nell had eaten for supper curdled in her stomach at the abject horror on her mother’s face. Her mother looked over at her father, presumably seeking guidance on how she was supposed to respond. It’d always been that way and, it would seem, nothing was likely to change. Nell steeled herself to turn to him.
The repugnance on his face. It was...devastating. She closed her eyes to it.Don’t cry. Don’t let him see your tears. He doesn’t deserve them.
He snapped the broadsheet shut, folding it into its preordained shape. “You will see yourself out.”
“Pardon?” Nell snort-laughed in front of him.
His face twisted. “You heard me.”
Her mouth dropped open as he walked stiffly out of the room. He closed the door with a quiet but succinct click.
“Oh dear,” her mother said weakly.
