“That is not fair!”
“No, what’s not fair is my mum trying to make everything easier for everyone else all the time, and the people she tries hardest for not even noticing.”
Guilt slithered in her stomach. What was she doing? It was as if the devil on her shoulder had punched the lights out of the angel on her other shoulder, and now she only had one voice in her head. She took a breath. This was ridiculous. The last thing she wanted to do was fight with her nephew.
“Listen, Patrick . . .”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t think I will.”
He walked deliberately out of the shop, leaving Simone wondering how she’d managed to screw things up quite so spectacularly.
“You really upset him, Simone, slagging his mum off. You know how protective he is.”
“That wasn’t my intention, obviously. Shit.”
“Aren’t you going to go after him, then?” Star asked.
“Should I?”
“Yes!” She nodded emphatically. She snatched up her phone and fired off a text.
“I don’t even know where he’s gone. I can’t exactly go over to Maggie’s and ask if I can speak to her son to apologize for slagging her off.”
“He’s right,” said Star. “We should never have left everything to Maggie to sort out.”
“I didn’t realize it had been such a hassle.” She was on the defensive again.
“Really? I think we did. We’re just used to her sorting everything out for us. Doesn’t paint us in a very favorable light, does it?”
Star was right. Simone had known full well she should have helped Maggie, but she was so overwhelmed with her own emotional trauma that she’d let her sister carry it all. She’d told herself that if Maggie needed help, she’d ask, knowing full well that her sister would rather die of exhaustion than bother anyone. Like hiding your eviction from everyone so as not to burden us. Oh, Maggie!
“Shit, shit, shit!” Simone twiddled her ponytail, a nervous habit.
Star’s phone pinged. “He’s at Betty’s,” she said.
“Was that him?”
“Yeah.”
“How have you got his number?”
“I asked for it at the funeral. I’m trying to be a less crap aunty.”
“Oh, bollocks to everything!” shouted Simone, grabbing her coat. “I’m going to Betty’s!” She slammed out of the door and then slammed straight back in again. “And you’re coming with me!”
* * *
Patrick was sat at a table in the window with a mug of something covered in a spiral of squirty cream. He was scrolling through his mobile phone and didn’t notice Star and Simone arrive until an aunty-shaped shadow fell across the table. He looked up.
“Oh god, what?” he sighed. “Are you here to berate me for disrespecting my elders?”
“Elders?” Star sucked in a breath. “Low blow, Patrick.”
He smiled despite himself.
“Can we sit?” Simone asked. She was aware she needed to tread carefully here.
Patrick gestured at the chairs opposite him, and they sat down.
She took in a deep breath and slapped gaffer tape over the devil on her shoulder’s shouty little mouth. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Maybe I’ve taken your mum a bit for granted. I didn’t mean to criticize her. But you know, she isn’t perfect either.” You couldn’t help yourself, could you!
Star rolled her eyes.
“I never said she was,” said Patrick. “But she’s always been there for both of you, and when she needed you, you were nowhere to be seen.” Simone spluttered, offended, but Patrick carried on. “You might have forgotten, but I haven’t. I remember being lifted out of bed in the middle of the night and driven halfway across the country because you’d been arrested.” He looked at Star, as did Simone.
“It was a protest thing.” Star waved it away. “They wanted to build a housing estate on an ancient woodland.”
“Mum bailed you out,” said Patrick.
“She did.”
“And what about when you got cold feet before your wedding?” He looked accusingly at Simone.
“I know, I know, I called her, and she came running.” She had panicked that Evette was too good for her two weeks before the wedding. Maggie had talked her down, assured her that Evette could see all the good things Maggie could see too, and a hundred more.
“And where were you when Grandma Lilibeth died? Or when we were moving, and Verity was a baby? Where were you?” He was trying not to shout, but it was clear that there was a lot of backed-up resentment. People always underestimated children, thought they didn’t pick up on things, but they did, and then they grew into adults who remembered. Maggie may have allowed herself to be taken for granted with good grace, but her son had clearly been keeping score.
“I came to the funeral,” Simone said weakly, and hated herself.
“Yeah, you’re good at that. Turning up when all the work’s done.”
“I have a busy life . . .” She sounded pathetic even to her own ears.
“And Mum doesn’t? Just because she isn’t a physiotherapist or a psychologist doesn’t mean you can look down on her life. It’s not less important than yours. And she isn’t your packhorse, you can’t just dump all your shit on her and expect her to deal.”
“Wow, don’t hold back, Patrick,” said Star.
He took a deep breath and scratched his hands through his messy hair. He looked out of the window, and Simone watched his fists clench and unclench.
“You’re a good son. Your mum is very lucky to have you. I’m sorry we weren’t here.”
“Ahh, do you know what, this isn’t all on you. I’m off-loading my own guilt.” He looked from Star to Simone, and she knew this was her moment to break new ground.
“What do you have to feel guilty about?” she asked.
“Being away at uni, and not wanting to come back here to live after I’ve got my degree. I’m moaning at you for being distant when I’m planning to desert my family.”
“Your mum doesn’t expect you to spend your whole life in Rowan Thorp,” Star said, laughing. “She wants you to get out in the world and build a life for yourself, independently of her. Trust me, you’re not deserting her; all she’s ever wanted is to give you the tools so you can set out on your own. I’m not saying she won’t miss you, but she’d be devastated if she thought you hadn’t pursued your dreams because you were worried she needed a babysitter.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because that’s exactly what she said to us when we were your age,” said Simone.
“Big sister wisdom with no psychology degree,” Star added.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you.” Patrick trained his bright green eyes on Simone. “Mum and Verity are all I’ve got, you know, they’re the only properly solid things in my life. Everyone else is just, well, transient.”
Wow, that stung. Would she want her children to feel that their family was transient?
“Okay, that’s not good,” she began. “How about this? We”—she looked at Star before carrying on—“we will try to use this enforced time we’ve been given to build some new bridges between our family. And that way we’ll always have a path back to each other.”