‘But you’re always so together,’ Daisy said softly.
‘I’m not sure I’m explaining it right.’ She hadn’t tried with Everett either, which was probably half of the problem. She didn’t communicate, neither did he, so how could a marriage possibly work like that? ‘I am in control, but sometimes a little too much … does that make sense?’ She gave Daisy a nudge when her sister raised her eyebrows ina mocking fashion, which Fern knew was in support rather than criticism.
She hesitated before revealing more. ‘When Dad died I felt as though I’d let something bad happen because I’d not expected it.’
‘That makes no sense, Fern. Nobody knew it was going to happen.’
‘See, I’m rubbish at telling people how I feel.’ She groaned, covered her face. But the way Daisy was looking at her suggestedshe should keep on trying.
‘I started to be more fastidious about everything I did. I’ve always been a bit that way inclined, as you well know, but it’s been getting worse over the years.’
Daisy nodded and paused before she admitted, ‘I never once saw you cry, you know. Back when Dad died.’ She wiped her finger through a dusting of flour that had been spilled on the worktop. ‘I cried a lot,so did Ginny, but I don’t remember you ever doing it. I thought you were so strong. I thought I was being so weak.’
Fern gulped. ‘It’s not weak to cry. And I did. I cried a lot.’
‘You hugged me, I remember that.’ Daisy smiled gently. ‘And you talked to Ginny on the phone all the time, you calmed her down when she was upset, and I remember you helping Mum when she was at her worst in the weeksafter the funeral.’
‘I wanted to be there for you all, it made me feel useful.’
‘As though you were in control.’
Fern nodded, exactly. ‘I didn’t want any of you to see me cry. I didn’t want to upset you any more than you already were, so I held myself together whenever you or Ginny or Mum were around. I cried on my own or in front of Everett, but never in front of you three.’
‘Fern, you dorealise how crazy that is, don’t you? Crying is normal.’
Fern sniffed. ‘It’s the onions.’
Daisy tilted her head to the meat sauce in the pan having already been simmered and now waiting to become part of the final dish. ‘The onions must’ve been chopped a long time ago.’
She sniffed again and plucked a tissue from the box on the windowsill to soak up the tears that had spilled out already. ‘Mustbe the flour I spilt.’
‘Must be.’ Daisy hesitated but then, surprising them both, came around to Fern’s side of the worktop and wrapped her sister in a big hug. ‘I’m glad you told me how you’re feeling.’
Fern let Daisy hold her until they heard the door go and Ginny and Loretta arrive home from the shop.
Daisy gave her one more squeeze and told her, ‘I’ll prepare the salad.’
Fern passed hersister a chopping board. ‘Thank you. For listening.’
‘Any time. And if you need to talk, about anything, you know where I am.’ Daisy took out the lettuce, tomatoes, cucumber, spring onions and beetroot from the fridge.
It wasn’t long before the lasagne was bubbling away in the oven, and Fern felt herself relax. Nothing to see here. The house was calm, everything was under control, and with asmile from Daisy she realised how much she’d missed having both of her sisters in her life. She’d not communicated with them either and look what had happened – she’d lost her sense of self. She wasn’t quite ready to talk about Everett with either of them yet, but maybe, given time …
The sumptuous lasagne went down a treat as the girls and Loretta talked about their day, what they’d been up to,the countdown to Christmas and how many gifts each of them still had to go and buy.
Daisy and Ginny between them took away the plates, the empty bowl that had held the salad.
‘I couldn’t eat another thing,’ Loretta declared, hand on her tummy. ‘That was delicious. But, Fern, you really don’t have to cook quite so much.’
‘Ginny and Daisy have been helping,’ she insisted.
Daisy called over,‘Those tomatoes were chopped perfectly and the spring onions sliced to perfection.’
Fern grinned at her sister. ‘I find cooking therapeutic, happy to do it, Mum.’
This time Daisy let out a laugh and told them all about the first attempt at the sauce, the lumps and the burned bits on the pan. She didn’t let on that Fern had been quite upset and angry, only that the cheese sauce hadn’t been perfect.It likely could’ve been salvaged, but Fern had been so furious with her inadequacy that she’d ditched it without even trying.
‘Do you remember your dad’s cooking?’ Loretta asked them all.
