“You think so?”
“Yes.” Rachel looked up, taking a deep breath. “How’s your studying going?” She’d meant the question as an opener, a way to talk about things, but Lily’s expression closed up and she reached for her drawings. Rachel handed them to her without a word.
“Fine.” She glanced at Janice, who was drifting into a doze. “I guess she wants to sleep,” she said, and tiptoed out of the room. Rachel followed.
“Lily,” she called. Her sister was already halfway up the stairs. With a gusty sigh she stopped and turned around.
“What?”
Rachel stared at her, not wanting to ask her about what she wanted. Not wanting to shed doubt or project possibility into a situation that had been so certain. “Just a few more weeks,” she said, knowing she was chickening out. “Then it will all be over.”
Lily stared at her for a moment, her face expressionless. “Yes,” she agreed. “It will.”
In her own room Rachel reached for the thick white envelope from the University of Lancaster and slit the top. She pulled out the glossy brochure, thumbing through the pages, glancing at the photographs of laughing students with backpacks slung over their shoulders, everyone looking as if they were having the time of their lives.
And for a second she imagined how it could work. She’d go down to Lancaster twice a week; maybe Claire could take over some of her houses, even go halves in the business. Meghan could take more on with Mum, and Lily would be at uni. It would be crazy and hectic, but in a good way. They’d all be living their dreams. Even if Lily didn’t realize what hers was yet.Why shouldn’t she try for it? It was easy enough to fill out an application online. It was the hoping that was hard.
Impulsively, she reached for her phone and scrolled down for Andrew’s contact.
He answered on the first ring. “Rachel?”
“I’m looking at the University of Lancaster brochure.”
“And?” His voice was careful, cautious.
“And I’m thinking maybe it could work. Maybe.” Her fingers were clenched around her phone and her heart had started thumping. Amazing how difficult it was to admit that much.
“That’s great news,” Andrew said, and Rachel could hear the genuine warmth in his voice. “Let me take you out to celebrate.”
“To celebrate looking at the brochure?” Rachel said with a laugh. “I haven’t done all that much, Andrew.”
“To celebrate you getting in,” Andrew answered. “And starting your course.”
She felt dizzy, imagining it. Andrew had been right. Settling for something was better than having nothing at all. Why had she kept herself from it for so long?
She knew the answer to that. Because of fear as well as pride.
“Rachel?” Andrew prompted gently, and she realized she’d been silent, just breathing into the phone. “We’ll go somewhere really classy,” he promised her. “Like Raymond’s.”
She laughed then, a shaky relief pouring through her. “Okay,” she said. “I’d love that.”
Still high with possibility, Rachel fired off a text to Claire. What do you say you take on part of Campbell Cleaners permanently? If you’re really thinking of staying in Hartley-by-the-Sea? She sent it before she could think better of it, before she considered how much of herself she was putting out there.
For once she wasn’t going to hold herself back. She was going to let herself dream, and see where it took her.
Chapter thirty
Claire
Claire lay in bed and listened to the murmur of her parents’ voices downstairs. No doubt they were talking about her, trying to manage her as always. It had been paralyzing, coming into the house to confront them. Not that she’d actually done any confronting.
No, she’d stood there with her head bowed, practically cowering, as her mother fluttered around her and her father remained silent, radiating disapproval.
“Darling, we’ve been so worried,” Marie had exclaimed, air-kissing both of Claire’s cheeks before she stepped back and examined her. “You look pale and a bit skinny. Not that you can be too thin, but are you eating well?”
“I’m eating fine,” Claire had said. She’d forced herself to look up and face them. Her mother’s sharp features were pursed with that familiar mixture of annoyance and concern that Claire always seemed to engender. “I’m fine,” she’d added, and her voice came out a little firmer.
“Claire, how on earth can you be fine? You’ve run all the way to Cumbria, and Andrew says you’re working in the post office....”Marie had let out an uncertain laugh. “Honestly, I thought he was joking.”
