“Should I?” Lucy asked, and he snorted.
“She wouldn’t even care.”
“What about your dad?”
He shrugged. “I haven’t seen him since April.”
“Still,” Lucy said, “I don’t think he’d like to know you’d been nicking things from the shop.”
“You can’t tell him, though,” Oliver pointed out as he opened the bag of chocolate buttons. “He won’t be home till after Christmas.”
“Oliver . . . ,” Lucy began, watching as he took a button from the bag. “I know it might seem like grown-ups don’t care about you or what you do—”
He jerked around to face her, swallowing the chocolate with an audible gulp. “What do you know about it?” he demanded.
“I know what it feels like to be alone—”
“You don’t know naught,” he said, and tossed the bag of buttons into the bin on the sidewalk. “I can see myself home.”
Lucy slowed as Oliver took off up the street, and then disappeared around the corner.
She was still mulling over how she could have better handled the situation when she came into the darkened kitchen of Tarn House and saw Juliet curled up on the window seat, her bleak face resting against her knees.
“Juliet—what’s happened? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s happened,” Juliet said with a sniff. She averted her face from Lucy. “I’m just having a bit of an off day,” she said, her voice muffled against her knees. “I’m allowed, aren’t I?”
Lucy dropped her bag by the table and hung up her coat. Outside the sun was still high in the sky despite it being past five o’clock, gilding the fields with gold.
After a moment’s deliberation Lucy filled the kettle and plonked it on top of the Aga. Then she turned on one of the lamps on the Welsh dresser and, pulling a chair from the table, sat down near Juliet. Maybe she needed to fulfill her half of the bargain in other ways too.
“So why is this an off day?” she asked. Seeing Juliet look so dispirited made Lucy wonder if her stern sister was as emotional and fallible as she was.
It didn’t seem likely, but it was time they both started talking more honestly.
“No real reason,” Juliet said after a moment, her face still averted, and Lucy let out a sigh.
“Juliet, I know we don’t actually know each other very well, and that you resent my very existence. Maybe you hate me. I don’t know.” Juliet had not rushed to refute any of these assertions, and taking a deep breath, Lucy plowed on. “But you still had the kindness and generosity to offer me a placeto escape when my entire life fell apart. I hope your life isn’t falling apart the way mine did, but I’d like to be here for you, whatever is going on.” She paused, considering her next question, not sure if she wanted to lob that particular grenade into the conversation. But it was there already, so she asked, “Is this about Fiona?”
Juliet let out a trembling laugh. “No, actually, it’s not. Not directly, anyway. Not everything is about our mother, despite what she thinks.”
Lucy smiled at that. “I don’t think anyone has dared tell her that. So what is it about?”
“Can’t I just have an off day, no explanation needed?” Juliet asked, a familiar edge of irritation entering her voice. “Maybe it’s just PMT.”
“I assume that’s the same as PMS?” Juliet shrugged and nodded. “If it was, why didn’t you just say so in the first place?”
The kettle startled whistling shrilly and Juliet rose from the window seat, her face now set into its usual stern lines. She grabbed the kettle from the Aga and made them both mugs of tea. Lucy waited.
“I was thinking about having a baby,” Juliet said abruptly, and Lucy blinked.
“Okay,” she finally said, her tone cautious. Juliet raised her chin a notch.
“Our mother did it, didn’t she? She was a single mum both times round, and I think I could be a much better mother than she ever was, at least to me.” She fetched the milk from the fridge and poured some into both mugs before thrusting one towards Lucy. “You don’t think so,” she stated flatly, and Lucy blinked again.
“Think what? That you won’t be a better mother than Fiona? No, I definitely don’t think that. But,” she added, “you’re not setting the bar very high.”
“You have no idea,” Juliet answered grimly, and Lucy set her mug of tea on the table.
