Lottie felt put on the spot, and she checked the clock. ‘Visiting is from two o’clock. So about ten to?’
Daniel nodded. ‘I’ve got some things to do. I’ll be out the front at ten to two.’
‘Perfect. Thanks,’ said Lottie, and she returned to her ham sandwich.
Not two minutes had passed before Aunt Nicola was on her feet making excuses to follow Daniel. Rhys watched his mother go. Despite his age, Lottie could see the situation with his parents was affecting him. He was a sensitive lad – quiet and a bit distant, like most teenagers, but far more aware than they gave him credit for. Watching his parents hurt each other was a horrible thing for him to witness.
She could feel she was being watched. Joe was studying her with a faint frown. She wondered what he was thinking.She had frequently thought of him over the years. At first he had dominated her thoughts, but over time he had been relegated to the occasional memory. Now he was back, taking up more headspace than she would have liked. He was back – but she was leaving. Everything was changing, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for any of it.
‘Who wants leftover Christmas pudding?’ she asked. She was met with a round of mumbled nos.
Joe helped Lottie clear the table and followed her through to the kitchen. There was a charged silence between them; or maybe that was in his imagination. Lottie wrapped a ham sandwich into a neat foil parcel. Joe stacked the plates by the sink and, once she was finished, Lottie joined him. She started filling the sink with suds.
‘I’ve been thinking about what Bernard said,’ said Joe.
‘Oh, Joe. Please don’t dwell on that. Nobody else thinks you were involved.’ Joe gave a slow, disbelieving blink. ‘Okay. Maybe some in the village do. But most people don’t – so does it really matter?Iknow you had nothing to do with it.’ She gave him a reassuring smile.
He held up a hand to stop her. She thought she knew, but she didn’t. ‘You deserve to know the truth.’
Lottie’s smile faded. She switched off the taps and gestured for him to sit at the table. ‘What’s up, Joe?’
Joe took a steadying breath. What he was about to say could change his relationship with Lottie forever. She already thought badly of him for leaving. His next revelation wasn’t going to improve things, but he had to tell her the truth. ‘Bernard’s right. I did know what my dad was doing.’
Lottie’s eyes widened briefly. ‘You knew he was planning to …?’ She didn’t need to finish the sentence.
‘Deep down, I knew,’ admitted Joe, and Lottie seemed to relax a fraction. ‘He didn’t explicitly say what he was planning, but he didn’t have to. I knew.’ Lottie reached out and put her hand on his. It was good to feel her touch; to know she still cared. ‘It broke my heart to see my mum fade the way she did. To see her in pain. Each day it got harder to put on a brave face when I saw her. I’d cry on Dad’s shoulder every night.’ He paused as the memories flooded back, catching him off guard by how vivid they were.
‘You gave her the strength to fight for as long as she did,’ said Lottie, giving his hand a squeeze.
‘Dad said he couldn’t let us both suffer indefinitely. I should have realised then what he intended to do. Maybe deep down I did, and that was what I wanted to happen. I certainly wanted her to be at peace.’
‘That’s what we all wanted. Nobody could blame you for wanting that. She was in a great deal of pain. The medication wasn’t working. Lots of people would have done the same as your father if they had had the means.’
‘But he did it for me as much as for her.’
‘Your father was a kind and gentle man. What he did, he did out of love for both of you,’ said Lottie.
‘But I knew, Lottie. And I didn’t stop him. That makes me culpable.’
‘Joe, you didn’t know for sure. Unless he explicitly told you what he was planning,’ she left a pause and Joe shook his head, ‘then you couldn’t have stopped him.’
‘Maybe I could have done something. Said something.’
‘You were only eighteen. I don’t believe there’s anything you could have done, Joe; however hard you’d tried.’
‘But I didn’t try. And the price I paid was to lose them both.’ Tears welled in his eyes and he blinked them back.
‘It may all seem to fit together now, but I don’t think you saw it so clearly at the time. Time does strange things to our memories and emotions. If you’d had the slightest inkling, would you not have talked that over with someone?’ she asked.
Joe lifted his head and smiled. ‘I’d have told you.’
‘That was kind of what I was getting at but I didn’t want to appear big headed. Back then we told each other everything. We talked all the time. And remember,’ she pushed her thumb against his, ‘no secrets.’
Joe chuckled. ‘I’d forgotten our secret sign.’ As kids they’d had a secret club and met in an old shed on the manor land. They’d had a motto and a secret sign, which had stayed with him and Lottie into their teens: a code they lived by as their romance blossomed.
‘I saw your face the day your mum died. That wasn’t the face of someone who knew.’
Joe stared at the floor, composing his breathing, trying to keep his emotions in check. ‘Thanks, Lottie. That means so much.’ He wiped a stray tear away. ‘Bloody hell, I feel better now than I did after any therapy session in the States. And it was a lot cheaper.’
