“Maybe. I haven’t had time, to be honest.” That wasn’t quite true. She’d powered up the ancient desktop computer in the sitting room and thought about doing an Internet search for courses. Nathan had come running in before she’d opened the browser.
“How’s your mum?”
The switch in topics threw her. “Oh, fine. Well, no, not fine.” She sighed. “Terrible, if the expression in her eyes is anything to go by. I can barely look at her, which makes me an awful daughter.”
“A normal person,” Andrew corrected. “When is she coming home?”
“Probably at the weekend.” Rachel closed her eyes, not even wanting to think about what that meant.
“Would you like me to help?”
Her eyes snapped open, and she stared straight ahead at the Harts’ muddy garden with its patchy grass and runty trees. “Pardon?”
“I asked, would you like me to help? I could come to Hartley-by-the-Sea for the weekend. Drive your mum home from the hospital, maybe.”
“I have a car.”
“I know.” Andrew’s voice was gentle. “But I thought maybe you’d like help shouldering the burden.”
Quite suddenly Rachel felt as if she could cry. She dropped the phone in her lap and pressed her thumbs to her closed lids as she took a few deep breaths.
“Rachel?” Andrew’s voice, coming from the phone in her lap, sounded tinny and alarmed.
“I’m here.” She took one last deep breath and picked up the phone. She hadn’t expected Andrew to offer to help. She hadn’t realized she’d want it so much. “Yes,” she said. “That would be great. I’d love for you to come back and help me.”
Chapter twenty-four
Claire
“Eleanor Carwell didn’t come in today.”
Dan didn’t look up from the Lottery cards he was feeding into the dispenser. “So?”
“So she’s come in every morning since I started working here,” Claire said. She straightened, rubbing the ache in her lower back. She was almost finished stacking the newspapers.
“Which is all of four weeks,” Dan pointed out.
“Still, she’s made a big deal of it. Haven’t you noticed? She gets all dressed up....”
“She wears the same thing every day.”
“But she looks smart,” Claire insisted. “Why wouldn’t she come today?”
“She’s on holiday?”
“She would have canceled her paper, then.”
“She’s ill.”
“Exactly,” Claire said. “What if she’s really ill? She lives all alone—”
“Let me guess,” Dan interjected dryly. “You want to go over there like some kind of Suzy Sunshine and check if she’s all right.”
“And if I do?”
“I assume I’m paying you to do this?”
“You don’t have to. Dock my wages fifteen minutes if you like.”
