‘Then really that’s all that matters,’ said Lottie.
‘You’re right.’ Emily took a slow breath.
‘You seem to be getting on well with everyone.’
‘Joe’s nice,’ she said.
‘He is … very nice.’ The thought of him made Lottie smile.
‘What was that all about yesterday? Bernard said something about Joe’s father being a murderer.’
Lottie paused with the clingfilm hovering above a plate. ‘It’s true … but it’s not that straightforward.’
‘But murder,’ said Emily, looking uncomfortable.
‘Joe’s mum was dying of cancer. His dad was the local GP. She was in her last few days and he gave her something to hasten the inevitable.’
‘Poor Joe.’ Emily scrunched up her features.
‘Poor all of them. His dad was arrested shortly after. He died in custody and I swear it was from a broken heart.’
‘That’s so sad.’
Lottie nodded. It was indeed the saddest thing she’d ever witnessed. Talking about it flooded her mind with memories. She’d known them so well. It had been awful to see Joe’s mum deteriorate and watch Joe trying to cope with it. When she had died and the police had taken Joe’s father away, the small village had been besieged by press, and Joe had taken refuge at the manor. Shortly afterwards, he’d written her a note and left without saying goodbye. She’d not seen or heard from him again – until two days ago.
‘Right. What have I forgotten?’ Lottie scanned an eye over the food. She needed to keep her mind in the present. Her memories were too much of a minefield to wander through.
‘Can I help with lunch? Ah.’ She looked over the table and seemed to notice that lunch was already a done deal. ‘Or dinner later?’
‘Thanks.’ Lottie was making a prawn curry tonight so she could fill everyone up with lots of rice. She just had to think of something to put in a vegan version. ‘Is sprout curry a thing?’ asked Lottie.
Emily wrinkled her nose. ‘Not something I’ve heard of, and certainly not something I’d fancy.’
‘No, me neither,’ admitted Lottie. ‘I might have to get something from the shop.’
‘Could you get me another tester while you’re there?’
‘Sure.’ Lottie hated seeing the worry in Emily’s eyes. ‘Whatever the result is, you’ll deal with it. And it’ll be okay. I promise.’ Lottie hoped she sounded reassuring.
‘Thanks. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you these last couple of days.’ Emily put out her arms and they hugged. Lottie felt quite emotional. She knew that whatever happened between Emily and Zach, she’d found a friend.
Lunch was the usual organised chaos that Lottie loved. It felt depleted around the table without Great Uncle Bernard and Dayea, and with Angie and Scott still in their room making up. Aunt Nicola and Uncle Daniel were being civil to each other – which was a big development, although it was all still quite awkward – and Jessie was excited, because Rhys was going to take her out for a go with the metal detector after lunch. Joe was quiet, Dave was restless and Lottie hadn’t seen a glimpse of the Duchess since before poogate. She made a mental note to have a proper look for her after they’d been to see Bernard.
Peace descended while everybody ate. ‘So who’s coming to the hospital with me?’ she asked. There were no immediate takers, so she dropped a steady gaze on Uncle Daniel who eventually looked up.
‘I could come if you like?’ He was almost as unfeeling as his sister. Lottie would save a seat in the car for her mother, but she suspected she would have some hugely plausible reason for why – whilst she would love to – she couldn’t possibly come.
She hoped Uncle Bernard was going to be all right, but he wasn’t a healthy man. She knew from Nana’s friendsthat it was often the way – they were perfectly fine until one thing went wrong with them, and then there was a domino effect. Before you knew it you were at their funeral wondering what happened.
‘I think I’ll come too,’ said Aunt Nicola, and Lottie noticed Uncle Daniel’s shoulders sag. It appeared Aunt Nicola was keeping a close watch on her errant husband.
‘Great. Uncle Bernard will be pleased. The more the merrier,’ said Lottie. Although a trip with her aunt and uncle was not one she’d be looking forward to.
‘I’ll drive,’ said Uncle Daniel.
Nicola looked pointedly at his empty wine glass. ‘I don’t think that’s wise.’
‘I think I’ve already proved that I’m not wise. But one glass doesn’t make me a drink driver.’ He dropped his serviette on the table and stood up. ‘What time do you want to leave, Lottie?’
