Ella hadn’t slept well.
The night before, in the pub, Henry had had too much to drink and had been moody and tetchy.
Ella had tried hard to soothe him. ‘It’s a good idea to meet Mum at the vicarage, don’t you think.’
Henry had barked a bitter laugh. ‘I suppose so. At least we’ll have an expert on hand if she needs to be exorcised.’
Ella had tightened her lips and glared at Kit, blaming him for the fact that Henry was drunk.
Henry put his pint down. ‘I need a leak.’
When he’d gone, Ella had a go at Kit. ‘How many pints has he had?’
‘I think this is his fourth.’
‘Four? Four? For God’s sake, Kit.’ She glared at him. Ella was furious and turned to leave the bar but walked smack into a returning Henry.
‘Whoops, Sis. You need to look where you are going.’ He was laughing, ‘Or learn to handle your drink better.’
Ella, incandescent, turned on both of them. ‘I am not drunk. I’m going home.’
Kit watched her walk away and, draining his pint, set out after her with Henry following. In the car park he went to her. ‘I’m sorry. Sorry. It’s just this thing with your mum coming. We are all jumpy. Come here.’ He held his arms out to her and she went to him.
‘That was our first row,’ she said.
He held her a little tighter. ‘At least we’ve got it over with.’
Sennen woke up in what had been her parent’s bedroom. The window was where it had always been, but everything else had changed. The far side of the room had been filled with two new walls to contain the en suite and the sleek Scandinavian bed, dressed with a linen throw and cushions, was a far cry from the heavily carved one she had leapt into each birthday and Christmas morning.
But she had slept very well in this one. Better than she had hoped.
Considering the day ahead.
The day she had longed for and dreaded in equal measure.
There was no going back now …
There was a gentle knock at the door.
She sat up, giving her hair a quick comb with her fingers before calling, ‘Come in.’
Amy appeared with a tray of coffee and a newspaper. ‘Good morning, Mrs Tallon-Kaur. It’s a lovely day out there.’
‘Thank you so much.’
Amy placed the tray on the bedside table. ‘How did you sleep?’
‘Very well, thank you.’
‘Good.’ She pushed the plunger on the cafetière. ‘Busy day planned?’
‘I hope so.’
‘Well, enjoy your coffee, and we’ll see you for breakfast at eight thirty. Okay?’
‘Lovely.’
When Amy had gone, Sennen got out of bed and went to the window. Opening the plantation blinds she looked down on her old garden. She flattened her nose against the cold glass and tried to see around the corner of the house, down to the harbour. The tide was out and she imagined she could smell the salty dankness of the weed in its bed; seagulls strutting to peck at amputated crab claws, the sand sucking at their feet.
A wave of sorrow slapped her in the stomach. Why had she waited so long? She drew back from the window and sat on the bed, sipping her coffee. She closed her eyes and tried to picture the faces of her parents. It was difficult after such a long time. She concentrated hard, but each time she thought she had found their likeness the images slipped from her brain. Silently she said, ‘Mum? Poppa? Can you see me? Do you know I am here?’ When there was no answer she opened her eyes and said to no one, ‘I have come back.’
In Pendruggan, Ella was making two huge plates of sandwiches: cucumber with the crusts off and cheese with a good dollop of pickle.
Henry, bleary-eyed, slopped into the kitchen wearing baggy shorts. ‘Who are they for?’ He took a crust, put it in his mouth, and began to fill the kettle.
‘For the meeting. A distraction.’
‘Oh.’ He rubbed his head. ‘Got any aspirin?’
She pointed with her bread knife.
‘Left-hand drawer next to the sink.’
He opened the drawer and pushed things around until he found the packet and threw two tablets into his mouth, swallowing without water.
He leant back against the counter, waiting for the kettle to boil. He scratched his chest and yawned.
Ella pushed past him. ‘You stink.’
‘You’re welcome.’
‘You need to be ready by ten thirty.’
‘What time is the old bitch getting to the vicar’s?’
‘If you mean our mother, I’ve told you, eleven.’
‘If she bothers to show up.’
Ella turned on him. ‘Stop it! It’s going to be a hard enough day as it is without you being so horrible. Today means a lot to me – and if you can’t or won’t see that, then I’ll see Mum by myself and you can get the hell back to London and your money-mad chums.’
He held his hands up in mock surrender. ‘Okay, okay. I was only saying: just don’t expect it to be all kisses and white doves.’
‘Shut up.’
The skittering of dog claws in the hall announced Kit’s arrival.
‘Morning. I do hope I am not hearing the snarling of siblings. What’s going on?’
‘Nothing,’ said Ella through gritted teeth.
‘Good. Let’s keep it that way.’ He kissed Ella. ‘Fancy a walk on the beach?’
‘Bless you, yes,’ said Ella thankfully.
‘My pleasure – and Henry,’ Kit added, ‘you had better get shaved and showered. Don’t let yourself or your sister down.’
Bang on ten thirty the little party from Marguerite, clean and smart, pale and nervy, left for the vicarage, carrying two plates of sandwiches, a Victoria sponge, an extra litre of milk and some tea bags.
Penny opened the door. ‘What’s all this?’
‘I couldn’t expect you to feed us as well as give us your home,’ said Ella, putting the cake box into Penny’s outstretched hands. ‘You’ve done so much for us.’
‘Come into the kitchen and let’s get our strategy right before your mum and the solicitor arrive.’
Simon was putting his car keys into the dish by the back door. ‘Hello, Ella. How are you doing?’ He came forward and hugged her.
‘Okay. A bit nervous. Is Jenna at playgroup?’
‘Yes, just dropped her.’
‘Is she enjoying it?’
‘Taken to it like a duck to water. Miss Davis said she was the most confident child she had this year.’
‘That’s my girl,’ laughed Penny.
Ella hugged the Aga. ‘We went for a walk on the beach this morning. There’s a cold wind getting up.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ Henry grumbled, ‘can we stop talking about the weather? Our mother is about to arrive and I don’t even know if I’ll recognise her.’
Simon passed Henry a cup of coffee and sat next to him.
‘During difficult times like this, the power of small talk is often underestimated.’
Ella gave Simon a grateful smile across the table.
‘Mum must be pretty nervous too,’ she said.
Henry shifted in his chair. ‘She bloody well ought to be.’
Simon took a gentle steer on the conversation. ‘What do you hope for from this meeting, Ella?’
‘Erm, I think … I think I want us to all get on with each other and trust that maybe we have a future. As a family.’
Henry was exasperated. ‘Really? You think this might be one big happy ending? I believe she’s come for one thing and one thing only, and it’s not her darling children. It’s Granny and Poppa’s money. End of.’
‘That’s a very strong point of view, Henry,’ said Simon softly. ‘She may have come to atone for the past.’
Henry crossed his arms defensively.
Penny spoke. ‘Tell me what the pros and cons of meeting your mother are for you, Henry.’
‘The only pro is hers. She takes the money, tells us she’s very sorry she dumped us, and buggers off back to the hole she crawled out of.’
‘Put like that, I wonder why you are here at all.’
‘To hear how she tries to justify herself.’ And he added quietly. ‘For my sister. For Ella.’
‘I see.’ Penny turned to Ella. ‘How about you?’
‘I want to know why she left us. To try to understand. To find out who she really is. If we share likes and dislikes. To see who we look like. All that stuff, really.’
Henry folded his arms and grunted.
Kit looked up at the kitchen clock. ‘Five to eleven. Anyone needing a pee, go now.’
As they left the kitchen, Penny took Ella’s hand. ‘You’ll be okay,’ she whispered. ‘She’s your mum and anyone who could have such a lovely girl like you can’t be all bad.’
Ella’s butterflies were churning. ‘You will stay in the house, won’t you? In case?’ she pleaded.
‘I’ll be in the kitchen all the time.’
Penny led Ella into the vicarage drawing room. She had lit the fire and put a huge jug of roses on the piano. Ella’s throat tightened with emotion. ‘It looks lovely. Thank you, Penny.’
‘It’s the least I could do.’
Ella’s eyes were shining with unshed tears. ‘I’m scared.’
‘Only natural.’ Penny patted her hand and let her go. ‘Simon and I will bring the tea and sandwiches in at about half eleven. You might need a bit of light relief by then.’
The heavy knocker sounded on the front door. Ella jumped. ‘This is it.’
She went into the hall where Kit and Henry stood uneasily. Simon took over. ‘You three go into the drawing room, I’ll let them in. Close the door behind you.’
They did as they were told and listened as Simon went to the front door.
‘Hello. Good morning. I’m Simon. How do you do.’
A woman’s voice replied. ‘Simon. Good to meet you. I’m Deborah Palmer, Mrs Tallon-Kaur’s solicitor. We spoke on the phone?’
‘Indeed we did,’ said Simon.
‘And this is Mrs Tallon-Kaur.’
‘You are very welcome,’ Simon’s voice said. ‘Come along in. Henry and Ella are in the drawing room.’
In the drawing room, Henry and Ella looked at each other, then at the door.
‘Go on in,’ they heard Simon say.
The door opened; Ella stretched her mouth into a welcoming grin while her eyes were round with apprehension.
Henry looked at his feet and then at a photo in a silver frame of Penny and Simon’s wedding day, anywhere but at the door.
A woman’s voice, strong and smoky, said, ‘Hello, Henry. Ella.’
Both children looked up.
She was tall. Ella judged her to be almost six feet, wide-shouldered, slender and rangy. Her long hair, once fiery red, was now hennaed with silver strands glinting at the roots.
Ella recognised it as her own Titian curls.
Henry’s chest had constricted to the point where he couldn’t take a breath deep enough without panting. God, how he hoped this woman couldn’t hear it. This woman who had his face, his nose, eyes, mouth, brow … She was staring at him. What did she want? If she thought he was going to rush into her arms and call her Mummy she had another think coming. He walked to an armchair and sat down, his arms folded.
‘Well, then,’ said Simon hovering by the door, ‘I’ll leave you to get to know each other. Penny and I will bring refreshments shortly.’ He walked out into the hall, closing the door behind him. Why the hell did he say that? Get to know each other? Refreshments? He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and rubbed the sheen of perspiration from his head.
Sennen smiled and sat on the sofa.
She was wearing a calf-length, billowing dress in jewel colours with a soft, midnight-blue scarf, mirrored and beaded, around her neck. On each wrist she wore rows of golden bangles. Her eyes were heavily lined with kohl and her skin was very tanned.
Henry was thinking, ‘Of course. A bloody hippy.’
Ella thought, ‘This is my mother.’
Kit thought, ‘Oh, shit.’
Simon tiptoed to the kitchen where Penny’s eyes were out on stalks.
‘And?’ she asked desperately.
‘Tall. Very tall for a woman.’
‘But does she look like a nice person?’
‘I couldn’t tell.’
‘Oh, you are hopeless.’ Penny looked at the clock. ‘Roll on tea and sandwiches.’
In the drawing room Ella stood in a quandary. Where should she sit? Next to her mother on the sofa and risk looking needy? Or take an empty armchair and risk looking judgemental.
The solicitor solved the dilemma by taking the sofa. Kit loyally sat on the arm of Ella’s chair.
The solicitor began. ‘So I’m Deborah. Debbie. And you know I have just joined the practice because your grandparents original lawyer and senior partner of the firm has finally retired due to ill-health. But I am well acquainted with your family’s history and I am honoured to be here on this important day.’
Henry made a noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a growl and a groan. Ella flicked her head towards him and gave him daggers.
Sennen said nothing. She felt sick. The open fire was making the room overly hot and she could feel the sweat prickle her top lip.
Henry hated her. He was making that quite clear. She raised her kohl-rimmed eyes to look at him, to drink him in. Her little boy was now a man, a man who looked so like Poppa, well-muscled and tall, with a mouth, which while scowling now, had clear laughter lines around it.
She dropped her gaze. Of course he hated her. Once he had loved her. Hung onto her legs, climbed on her lap, kissed her with his sticky lips. And she had left.
She turned her head and looked at Ella. So like Ali. Neat, clever hands. Perfectly straight nose. Indigo eyes. But she had Sennen’s wild red curls.
She couldn’t blame either of them for their silence. Saying their names aloud as she had entered the room had been involuntary. A reaction, more like a prayer than anything else.
It had set the room on edge.
She decided to remain still and silent and wait for what might come.