‘Would that be so very wrong?’ asked Nina, her brows drawn together in a small frown.
Venetia shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so crabby, especially as I did the very same thing after my last husband died. I didn’t want to be on my own, so I found Bon-Bon at a rescue centre. He was an abandoned puppy and Bon-Bon wasn’t his name, but the moment I looked at him, with his adorable face, that was who he became for me, my tiny bundle of perfectly wrapped sweetness.’ Her lips suddenly wobbled at the memory of meeting her precious little companion for the first time and she pressed her hand to her mouth. ‘Goodness,’ she said, ‘just look at me, I’ve turned into such a sentimental mess.’
‘I’m sorry for upsetting you.’
‘Don’t be silly, you did nothing wrong. And to answer your original question, I think it’s a good idea, but you’ll need to go about it the right way. Rescue centres these days are very strict on who can and cannot have one of their dogs, and rightly so. If buying from a breeder, you need to do your homework and find a reputable breeder. There are a lot of dodgy ones out there.’
Nina nodded. ‘I confess I did have this daft picture in my head of surprising Hilary with a cute puppy and melting her heart on the spot and everybody living happily ever after.’
‘That could still happen, but Hilary has to be the one to choose the dog, whether it’s a puppy or a full-grown dog.’
‘But ostensibly you think it’s not a bad idea and that I should pursue it?’
‘Definitely. If you like, I could help you.’
‘That would be wonderful, so long as it won’t be too upsetting for you. But firstly, I need to broach the idea with Hilary. And before that, I’m going to make us some coffee. I’m pretty sure I have some chocolate mints too.’
‘Perfect. You do that while I stack the dishwasher for you.’
‘There’s no need. Why don’t you move to the couch and make yourself more comfortable, and then perhaps you’ll tell me what happened when Lady Constance returned from her honeymoon?’
‘Let’s save that for another time,’ said Venetia, with forced brightness. She suddenly felt like she’d had quite enough of the past for one night.
Chapter Fifty-Two
‘Are you frickin’ kidding me, Mum?’
‘I’ve never been more serious,’ Cassie answered her daughter. ‘There’s something about it all that just doesn’t sit right with me.’
Emily rolled her eyes. ‘You mean Rosalyn doesn’t sit right with you. From the moment you knew of her existence you’ve had it in for her!’
‘That’s an outrageous thing to say and simply not true!’ Cassie remonstrated, although of course it was completely true. Ever since Emily had gone to Dubai to stay with Drew and had reported back about what a great time she was having with her father and Rosalyn, Cassie had tortured herself with daily observations of not only Emily’s Instagram and TikTok accounts, but Rosalyn’s. Every single one of Rosalyn’s posts had thoroughly rubbed Cassie up the wrong way. ‘This has nothing to do with my feelings about Rosalyn,’ she added in a more subdued voice, conscious of their surroundings. ‘It’s about instinct. Something feels off to me. Don’t you feel it too? Just a little?’
Using a long-handled teaspoon, Emily prodded at the surface of her oat milk latte, obliterating the cute heart the hot Italian barista had put on it. ‘I don’t know what I feel,’ she said morosely.
Cassie had taken the afternoon off from work and she and Emily were having what she hoped would be some much-neededquality mother-and-daughter time together in town. Cassie had dressed it up as doing some early Christmas shopping, but in reality she had wanted time alone with Emily.
It was just over a week since Rosalyn had shared her revelations about Drew and for some reason it had galvanised her. Within no time she’d decided on a school for Finlay and applied for a place and was now actively looking for somewhere to rent within the catchment area, as well as job-hunting. Before going to Dubai with Drew she’d managed a beauty salon and was looking for something similar. The change –yet another change– in her was extraordinary. But weird too. She seemed unnaturally upbeat. It made Cassie suspicious, and she now doubted that the grief Rosalyn had previously displayed had been genuine: it had been nothing but an act to cultivate sympathy.
Admittedly Cassie had a suspicious nature, but piecing everything together she had reached the only conclusion that made sense: Rosalyn was a narcissist. Having listened to plenty of podcasts about narcissists, in particular the dangerous sort, Cassie reckoned Rosalyn displayed many of the tell-tale traits. Like the constant need for attention and the desire to be at the centre of things. Then there was the inability to think or care about others and being overly sensitive to any perceived criticism. There was also the aspect of alienating people, cutting herself off from anyone who disagreed with her. Was this why Rosalyn hadn’t had a rush of friends to help and support her after Drew’s death? Had they all been dropped?
Then there was the story she’d told about her parents. Cassie had never been able to get her head around the idea that Rosalyn’s mother and father wouldn’t have wanted to patch up whatever differences they’d had with their daughter so they could get to know their grandson. But according to what Rosalyn had now shared, it was Drew’s coercive behaviour that had isolated her from her parents. But what if that was a lie andit had been Rosalyn who had pushed them away because they could see through her act? Because if Drew really was to blame, why hadn’t Rosalyn contacted them now that he was dead?
None of these suspicions had Cassie dared discuss with Emily. She’d discussed them with Ben and as ever he’d cautioned her to stand back and just let Rosalyn get on with organising her new life. He’d admitted that he’d be hugely relieved when Rosalyn and Finlay were gone so they could focus on arranging their wedding. They still hadn’t set a date.
‘But where does Emily fit into that new life Rosalyn is suddenly so eager to arrange?’ Cassie had asked Ben.
‘That’s not really our problem,’ he’d said.
‘It is if Emily ends up hurt.’
‘Then we’ll be there to pick up the pieces. Like we always have been.’
But of course, Cassie was incapable of standing back. She wanted to avoid there being any pieces to pick up; she wanted to protect Emily from being hurt in the first place.
In contrast to Rosalyn’s sudden burst of energy, and the constant breezing in and out of the apartment with Finlay, it seemed that Emily’s energy had been depleted. She spent much of her time avoiding Cassie, and when she offered to help Rosalyn with looking for somewhere to live, Rosalyn said she had it all in hand and she’d taken up enough of Emily’s time already.
Poor Emily, thought Cassie as she observed her daughter’s downcast face, she had to feel rejected after everything she’d done to help. She was also having to come to terms with everything Rosalyn had said about Drew, shattering in one fell swoop the version of her father she’d come to believe and had perhaps begun to love. So far, and despite Cassie’s attempts to encourage Emily to discuss it with her, she had refused to do so.
