Chapter61
‘Non, je ne regrette rien,’ Florence Sibley warbled. She was getting cobwebs off the ceiling with her feather duster whilst belting out her favourite Edith Piaf track when Star struggled up the wooden steps to the flat.
The old lady clutched her chest. ‘Ooh, Steren love, you didn’t half make me jump. Wait a minute – let me turn this noise off. What are you doing here on a Tuesday anyway?’
‘I finished work and I – well, I wanted to have a word.’
‘That’s nice. I’m just back from doing the church flowers and then suddenly saw cobwebs in every corner.’
‘Hello, hello, hello, hello.’
‘Hello, Boris.’ Star put her finger in to stroke his head. He promptly pecked her. It hurt.
‘Ow! You are such a naughty boy.’
‘Naughty boy, naughty boy.’ The budgie started flying around his cage in a whirr of blue and yellow feathers.
‘Tea?’ asked Florrie, when suddenly a screeching sound came from her ears. She frowned in concentration as she adjusted her hearing aids.
‘Have you got any herbal tea, Auntie?’
‘You know I don’t buy that expensive muck. Tastes like floor sweepings. I’ve got milk or water, tea, coffee or lemon squash.’
‘I’ll have a hot lemon squash then, please.’
The two sat down by the fire with their drinks, Star as usual sitting in her great-uncle Jim’s armchair.
‘Funny you were singing in French just then,’ she remarked. ‘Tasty Pasties is reinventing itself with some kind of Franglais theme, we think. The grand opening is on the twenty-third – that’s tomorrow, isn’t it?’
‘Yep, then it’s two days until the big day,’ her auntie said cheerfully. ‘I need to go downstairs and get myself a new dress as we are going to Bee Cottage. For once I’ll make an effort.’ She beamed. ‘I’m looking forward to a bit of a party. Are you sure you’re OK to give me a lift home in your condition?’
Star caressed her bump. ‘Of course. Skye is coming to get you and I will take you home whenever you’re ready, or you can always stay with us. You can have my bed and I’ll get in with Skye.’
‘No, I like my own bed, you know that. Anyway, what’s the matter?’ the old lady asked perceptively. ‘I can tell you’re not here for small talk.’
Star took a deep breath. ‘It’s actually very big talk, Auntie Flo. I have shared everything with you through my life as you know, but I had to think twice about telling you this.’
‘Is it about Estelle?’
‘Yes, but it affects all of us. Estelle is doing so well, by the way. She’s still sober and has got herself a job at the health shop on William Street, so hopefully you will see more of her. She is getting the bus in, which stops just up the road from here. She wants to see you, Auntie.’
‘Good, that’s the best present I could ever have. I can’t wait to catch up with her at Christmas, now that she will be able to hold a conversation that’s not full of vitriol against the world.’ Florence Sibley had hopes but no illusions.
‘It will be a test for her with lots of alcohol flying around, but she’s up for it.’
‘Steren, stop avoiding the real issue now, please.’
The young woman cleared her throat. ‘You know you told me how sad it was that the Reverend Nesbitt from Penrigan Catholic Church had died from cancer far too soon?’
‘Yes, such a sorry business.’
‘Also, you know how closed Mum has always been about telling anyone who my father was?’ Star braced herself. ‘Well, it was him. The Reverend Matthew Nesbitt was my dad.’
‘Jesus, Mary, Joseph, Mother of God!’ Florrie put her drink down with a shaky hand.
‘Estelle has thrown up some challenges to this family before, but dearie me – a reverend?’
There was a pause while Star waited for the news to sink in. It wasn’t long before Florrie spoke again.
