‘Thank you,’ I said, taking Cass’s hand.
In the end, I had plenty of time to myself. When Bertie got back from school, he insisted on showing Cass how much all the animals had grown since her last visit. I’d told Cass I didn’t feel up to going downstairs for dinner, so she brought me up a plate of food for me to eat alone in my room.
There had been several messages from Seb, but I’d not yet replied to any. Instead, I’d closed the curtains in my room, and once I’d finished eating, I’d burrowed down beneath the covers, trying not to cry.
At half past six, there was a knock at the door.
‘Come in.’
Seb opened the door and walked over to my bed. I snuggled further down beneath the duvet, knowing if he saw my face, he’d want to know what was wrong.
‘Are you OK? Cass said you’re not feeling well?’
‘Yeah, I think it’s a migraine.’
Seb sat on the edge of my bed, running his hand over my hair and down to my forehead. ‘You don’t seem to have a fever.’
‘No, I’m fine. Honestly, it’s just a nasty headache.’
‘Is there anything I can get you?’
‘No, thank you. I’ve eaten and have plenty of water.’
‘Would you like me to sit with you for a while?’
‘No, I think I just need to sleep.’
‘I can stay with you while you sleep.’
‘No, please, I think it’s best I’m by myself.’
‘All right,’ said Seb.
I felt awful. I could tell from his voice I’d hurt him by not wanting him around. If only he knew what was coming. I closed my eyes pretending to sleep, but really, it was to hide the tears which were about to pour from my eyes.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
All week I’d been walking around in a daze. I’d only slept in snatches of one or two hours each night, pacing our bedroom floor while Bertie snored away, oblivious to the change hurtling towards us.
I’d expected Beryl to want to discuss the ins and outs of my situation, but much to my surprise, she didn’t mention it once. The only reference she made to my breakdown in her living room was telling me she was there if I needed anything. I’d never imagined the hardened gossip could display such sensitivity.
Seb knew something was wrong and I couldn’t keep the pretence of a migraine up all week. I found excuses not to spend time with him, only attending meetings about the project when I knew Harry would also be there. At mealtimes, I kept catching him watching me, trying to figure out what it was I wasn’t telling him.
Harry had asked a few times if I was ready to talk, but each time I’d put her off. I knew if I admitted what was happening to anyone at Lowen Farm, they’d try to come to my rescue. The work they were trying to achieve was so precarious; puttingany time, energy or money into me was a distraction they couldn’t afford. An announcement was due from the planning department any day now, and if we got the go ahead for our ambitious plans, it would be full steam ahead.
Knowing I wouldn’t be around to see the project through broke my heart. Over the two days Cass had been at the farm, we’d looked at my mess every which way. We’d even consulted a solicitor Cass knew, but the outcome of that meeting was much as I’d expected. I would qualify for legal aid, but there was a waiting list, and besides, any lawyer I got access to for free was unlikely to compete with whoever Marion could afford to hire.
I wished Marion and Hugo had lost more when Rob’s business went under. It turned out they’d quickly bounced back from the initial financial shock, moving investments around and calling in debts until their bank balance was as buoyant as it had ever been.
The thought of Marion invading the shop again was horrific, so I’d arranged to meet her in the churchyard. Beryl had given me the morning off without question. After dropping Bertie at school, I walked to the church, welcoming the chance to take the weight off my feet as I sat down on a bench.
It was a dreary day, mirroring my feelings. The wildflowers in the graveyard bent their heads from the weather, as though not wanting to witness my downfall. Spits of rain mingled with gusts of wind, and I was grateful for my warm waterproof coat, despite it being early summer.
The clicking of high heels on the path signalled Marion’s arrival. I listened as she looked for me, hoping exposure to the rain would frizz up her neat hair.
‘There you are,’ she said, rounding the corner and walking towards me. ‘Why you had to choose such a ghastly place to meet is beyond me. Then again, you always were a strange one.’
And you were always a spiteful cow, I thought, but didn’t say. I couldn’t afford to be too honest, not when Marion held so much power over me. I stared straight ahead at the grave in front of me, wondering if the person buried there had lived a happy life.
