Martha reached out and lightly touched her sister’s arm. “You’ve carried a huge weight, for all these years...”
Lilian nodded. “I tried to shut it all away in my head. I never told anyone what happened. But then you found that old fairy tale book, with that date in it. I warned you to leave it alone. I was worried what you might uncover, what should be left buried...”
“But then I wouldn’t have found Zelda again.”
The two sisters reached out and clumsily found each other’s hands. They entwined fingers for the briefest moment before letting go again.
“Do you know who my real father was?” Martha asked.
“As far as I’m concerned, it was Thomas,” Lilian said fiercely. “And we’re sisters, whatever happened. I need to tell Paul what I saw and overheard that night, too. Then he might understand what I’ve lived with, and why I bottle things up so much. I’m going to ask him to stay. I owe Will and Rose a break, too. They’re great kids.”
“They can stay here anytime, now there’s room.”
“Thank you.” Lilian paused for a few seconds. She met Martha’s gaze. “And I’ve decided I’d like to see Zelda again. She’s family, no matter what happened.”
“We should do it soon. Things don’t sound good for her—” Martha halted her words, finding them too difficult to find. She cleared her throat. “One of her dying wishes was to read to a big crowd, at the football ground.”
“She wanted to do that?”
“Yes, and to see one more Christmas. Though it seems unlikely.”
“That sounds like our nana, thinking about Christmas at the beginning of March,” Lilian said. She stood up and picked up her bag. “Please think about the best way for me to meet her. I’m going to the library now, to pick up my Philippa Gregory. It’s finally arrived in stock. Do you want to join me?”
The thought of going to the library with her sister appealed, but Martha shook her head. “I’d like to take a little time for myself here first. Will you give something to Suki for me, though? It’s really important.” She passed her completed application form and reference to her sister.
“I’ll do it now.”
Martha waved Lilian off and went back inside the house. She found an empty cardboard box and placed the cuckoo clock inside it. She folded down the flaps and felt a strong urge to pull her family back together again.
And she had the perfect idea for how to do it.
37
Christmas Tree
Two days later
Martha found a new notepad among a selection Betty stored in a kitchen cupboard. She made a new task list and it featured things she wanted to do, that were important to her, rather than things other people wanted.
It was the start of a new plan of action, to reunite her family.
There were deep conversations to be had and history to unravel but, for today at least, she wanted it to be a celebration.
Her nana said her dying wish was to see another Christmas and Martha wanted to make sure it happened.
Her dining room now twinkled with fairy lights, and she’d set up a large Christmas tree next to the Chinese dragon’s head. She’d bought the supermarket’s finest sherry and napkins edged with gold. Thirty-six small mince pies sat baking in the oven, and the air smelled of spices and warm orange peel. Holding her hand to her forehead as a visor, she peered at them through the glass door. The lids were turning a golden brown, and the turkey was cooking nicely in the bottom oven.
Will and Rose were setting the dining table with gold candlesticks and place mats. Will wore a sweater featuring a reindeer with a light-up red nose. He had created a list of carols to play on his phone. Rose added the final touches to a center table display she’d made using a few shiny baubles and cotton wool for snow.
Lilian pushed her way into the room, her arms full of brightly wrapped presents. She bent down and arranged them under the tree. “Paul can’t join us, because of work,” she said. “But he sends his love.”
“Is everything okay between you?” Martha asked.
Her sister gave a small smile. “Only time will tell. I talked to him about what happened in our family, and how it affected me. I tried to tell him what he means to me. I’m not good at that kind of thing, so I hope it works.”
“Is one of those presents mine, Mum?” Will sidled up to her. He rested his cheek on her shoulder. “What’s Santa brought me?”
“You’ll have to wait and see.” Lilian pecked him on his cheek.
“What time will Nana be here?” Rose asked as she helped Martha to slide the mince pies onto a cooling tray when they came out of the oven.
“Soon. It sounds strange to hear you call her that. Nana is my and Lilian’s name for her.”
“Well, Great-Nana sounds a bit weird.”
Martha agreed that it did.
An hour later the doorbell rang. Martha, Lilian, Will and Rose stood to attention in the kitchen. The food was all almost ready to serve. “Shhh,” Martha said. “Our guests are here. Everyone stay quiet.” She hurried to the door and opened it.
Owen stood outside, alongside Gina and Zelda. “I’ve picked these ladies up, so they can both enjoy a few sherries,” he said.
“Thank you.” Martha smiled at him.
“My pleasure.” He entered the hallway and gave her a kiss on both cheeks. When she inhaled, his jacket smelled of ink and amber.
As she pulled away she spotted a blue mark on his face. “You have a smudge on your cheek,” she said.
“Oh. I don’t have a mirror. Just get it for me, will you?”
Martha took a tissue from her pocket. She dabbed at his cheek and rubbed it away. When she finished he briefly placed his hand on the back of hers. “Thanks.” He smiled.
She nodded in reply, her own cheeks flushing.
Gina helped Zelda inside the house. She wasn’t using her wheelchair today.
“Something smells good.” Zelda sniffed as she took off her coat and handed it to Martha. She smiled but her eyes were pink and puffy, and her cheeks were drawn.
Martha wondered if she had been replaying things through her mind, too, over the last few days. “Thank you,” she said.
“If it wasn’t March, I’d swear it was Christmas dinner.”
Martha smiled. She placed Zelda’s and Gina’s coats in the pantry. Placing her hand on the dining room door handle, she rested it there. “You said you wanted to see another Christmas.”
Zelda swallowed hard. She gave the slightest nod of her head. “I’m not a betting woman, but I’d say it’s unlikely.”
“Well.” Martha took a deep breath. “We decided to bring it forward.”
Zelda blinked. She frowned and looked at Gina.
Gina nodded in reply.
Martha had spoken to her on the phone the day before to confide and discuss her plan, and Gina had been an essential part of bringing it to life.
“We decided?” Zelda questioned.
“Lilian is here. And Will and Rose. We’d like to spend a special day with you.”
A tear rolled down Zelda’s face. She wiped at it but her cheek still glistened. “Really?” she said, her eyes shining. “After everything that’s happened?”
Martha reached out and took hold of her hand.
“I thought you might have asked me here to tell me you never want to see me again.” She hung her head.
“That would never happen.”
Zelda let out a silent sob. Her forehead crumpled. “This is all I ever wanted, to be welcomed back home. To be here with you, again.”
“I want it, too. We all do.”
Zelda didn’t move. “I’m so sorry, Martha,” she said solemnly. “For everything. I made a mess of things but I never meant to hurt you, or Betty or Lilian. I’ve tortured myself for years. I could have seen the two of you grow up. I could have been part of your lives...and Betty’s. My own darling daughter... I lost her...” She broke down and buried her head under Gina’s chin.
Martha placed a hand on her shoulder and gently caressed it. She passed her an aloe vera–enriched tissue and tried not to cry, too. “That’s all in the past now,” she soothed. “We can spend what time we have together, wishing we’d done things differently. Or we can use it wisely.”