‘Claire, I—’
She shook her head, not allowing me to finish. She threw a glance towards the entrance and seemed relieved to see it empty.
‘Outside,’ she said, as though we were in a spaghetti Western and there was about to be a gunfight. I swallowed uncomfortably.
‘Look, Claire, there’s no need for us to be—’
She held up her hand, commanding silence, before disarmingly pasting a saccharine-sweet smile on her face that was entirely for the receptionist’s benefit.
‘Lily, please. Let’s go outside to talk, shall we?’
Claire didn’t wait for my reply, but spun on her heel, clearly expecting me to follow her. I did. She swept through the double glass doors, allowing them to swing shut in her wake. I imagined having them hit me in the face would have been an unexpected bonus.
She didn’t pause on the stone steps outside the care home but marched around the front of the building, taking us further away from the car park and other visitors.
‘Do you mind telling me what you’re doing here?’ she hissed.
‘I came to see Gordon,’ I said, pleased to hear that out of the two of us I sounded the calmest.
‘Why? My father is elderly and sick and doesn’t need to be bothered by unwelcome visitors.’
‘There was something I wanted to ask him. And I really don’t think seeing me bothered him. He didn’t seem to know who I was.’
‘He barely knows whoIam,’ Claire shot back, which was so sad that unthinkingly I reached out a hand towards her.
She took a half-step back, looking genuinely horrified by the gesture. Embarrassed, I let my arm fall back to my side before drawing in a deep breath and trying again.
‘Claire, can we please just talk for a moment?’
‘I have nothing to say to you, except “stay away from my father”.’ She turned, as though to stride away, but stopped to add, ‘No. Scratch that. Stay away from my entire family.’
We both knew who she was talking about.
‘That’s kind of the reason why I’m here today. It’s what I wanted to ask Gordon.’
Claire’s eyes widened until they were saucers of disbelief.
‘Are you fucking kidding me?’
‘I need to speak to Josh. It’s important.’
Claire shook her head as though she truly couldn’t believe what she’d just heard.
‘Well, he absolutely, one hundred per cent, does not need to speak to you. Not now. Not ever.’ No ambiguity there then, but had I really expected any different?
‘If I could just explain—’ I began. Claire shook her head and threw another glance back towards the care home.
‘What bit of “you’re not welcome here” don’t you get, Lily?’ she asked, her eyes narrowing. ‘My brother made it very clear to you six years ago that he never wanted to speak to you again.’
I felt my cheeks growing hot, despite the cool afternoon breeze. However badly that last conversation with Josh had gone, it stung that he’d apparently relayed it to her, word for word.
‘What happened between Josh and me is ... between Josh and me,’ I said quietly. It was also between me and my late husband, but I had no intention of sharing that information with Claire.
‘Josh left me clear instructions that if you ever came looking for him, I wasn’t to tell you how to find him.’ She gave a small snort, as though that advice had been totally unnecessary. ‘So why don’t you go back to your husband and leave my brother in peace.’
It was the worst moment ever to feel the sting of tears in my eyes. ‘I’d love to do that, I really would, but I can’t because he died over a year ago.’
If I was expecting sympathy, I’d come to the wrong person, but she did at least look a little taken aback.
