‘Do you remember ours?’ one of the ladies said, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
‘Erm. To be honest, not really. I’m sorry. I only remembered Hanna’s because her surname rhymes with mine. Hannah Shaw and Molly Law. And also because my mum loves her artwork. She’s bought a couple of Hanna’s paintings.’
‘No need to apologise, dear. That’s fine. And everyone knows Hanna and her stunning artwork so of course you would remember her. Two old biddies like us are easily forgettable.’
‘Speak for yourself, Rita! I don’t think I’m easily forgettable. And neither, sister-dear, are you.’
‘You’re probably right. And yet, Molly has forgotten us.’ She shook her head at her sister and then smiled sweetly at Molly. ‘I’m Vera Boot, dear, and this is my sister Rita.’
‘I’m the pretty one.’ Rita winked, nudging her twin sister, who giggled and rolled her eyes.
‘You’re the older one,’ Vera said, and winked at Molly.
‘By two minutes!’ Rita harrumphed, and then laughed.
‘At our age, dear, two minutes is a long time.’
‘Especially a two-minute conversation with you, dear,’ Rita retorted, with another nudge.
They clearly had a sense of humour. Something Molly’s grandmother had definitely lacked.
‘We were eighty in March,’ Vera said. ‘We had a little party and it was so much fun. If Millicent had still been alive, we would’ve invited her. But she had died before we sent the invitations out. Not that she would’ve come. She didn’t like parties, did she?’
‘Millicent didn’t like anything,’ Rita snapped. ‘Oh good heavens, dear. Me and my mouth. It’s like a runaway train sometimes. But … she wasn’t a friendly woman, was she?’
Molly shook her head. ‘Sadly not.’
‘Do give our condolences to your father, dear,’ Vera said. ‘You all live in Folkestone, don’t you? Will he be selling Oak View Cottage, do you think? Or hasn’t he decided yet?’
And there it was. The question Molly had known would be coming.
Molly swiped at her eyes. She had always known how her grandmother had felt about her so why was she getting upset now? Was it because this was all still such a surprise? Or because standing here and talking about her grandmother with these cheerful sisters who were close to her grandmother’s age, and yet so different in character from the woman, had made all the sad memories come flooding back? Memories of all the times Molly had tried, in vain, to make her grandmother like her. Of all the times the woman had been downright mean and cruel and cold to her. Of the time when Molly had called round to see her and Millicent had shut the door in her face.
‘I didn’t invite you, girl,’ she had said. ‘This is most inconvenient. Never come here again uninvited.’
Molly cleared her throat and inhaled deeply, forcing a smile to her face as the Boot sisters stared at her with keen interest.
‘Actually, my grandmother didn’t leave the cottage to my dad. She left it to me. Much to everyone’s surprise. Especially mine. Frankly, I thought my grandmother hated me.’ Molly hadn’t meant to say that, but the words had come tumbling out.
‘Hated you?’ Vera and Rita exchanged concerned glances.
‘Oh no, dear,’ Rita said. ‘Millicent loved you very much.’
‘Well,’ Vera added. ‘As much as Millicent could love anyone.’
Molly’s strangled laugh surprised even her. ‘Loved me very much! She slammed the door in my face when I was in my teens. And just because I had the audacity to visit her when I hadn’t been invited!’
The women both nodded.
‘Ah yes,’ said Rita. ‘No one ever called on Millicent without an invitation.’
‘It had been the same all her life,’ Vera confirmed. ‘Even when she was a girl.’
Rita nodded. ‘Yes. But that was because of her mum’scondition.’
Vera put a finger to her lips. ‘Shush, Rita,’ she whispered. ‘We promised we would never talk about that.’
Rita’s cheeks flushed red and she stepped from one foot to another, looking awkward. ‘I forgot. Sorry.’
