‘Okay.’ Rory and I retraced our footsteps to the back door. I paused with my hand on the doorknob, deciding I had to be the bigger person. ‘We’re having shepherd’s pie for supper, if you want to join us.’ Then I opened the back door and released us into the relative warmth of the freezing October day.
Rory and I spent the afternoon playing endless games of noughts and crosses. When he grew bored with that, I taught him how to play Battleships. I wasn’t quite sure if he’d grasped the concept; instead of putting a cross for his ship in the specific square, he drew the ships instead, which at least whiled away the time as he insisted on making each miniature picture perfect, rubbing it out when it wasn’t.
Having switched on his cherished Superman DVD, I yawned as I put the kettle on to boil. Not just from my lack of sleep last night, but from my first experience of entertaining a child non-stop.
I thought back to Atlantis, and what we girls used to do to amuse ourselves during the holidays, marvelling at how Ma had coped with six of us, each at different stages of our development. I realised I couldn’t remember ever being bored – I’d always had CeCe and the rest of my sisters. As an only child, Rory had no one to play with. And if there’d ever been a tiny part of me that had felt resentful about being in the middle of our huge female nest, and the lack of one-on-one attention, I now felt blessed.
Having assembled the shepherd’s pie, I left it in the range to finish cooking, then went upstairs to make Rory’s bed and my own. Sitting down on mine, my fingers stiff from the bitter cold, I retrieved the box containing ‘Panther’. As the lemon drizzle cake didn’t seem to have mended the rift, and I still felt guilty for letting anger replace empathy last night, I slid it into my back jean pocket and went downstairs, knowing it was the one thing I could offer Mouse that might redeem me.
Seven o’clock, then eight o’clock came and went. I bathed Rory, then tucked him into bed, and walked back down the stairs to clear away supper. I was just about to switch off the kitchen lights and sit in front of the fire to read when the back door opened.
‘Sorry I’m late. I got held up,’ said Mouse. ‘Any shepherd’s pie left?’
‘Yes.’ I went to the pantry to retrieve it, then put it in the range. ‘It’ll take a few minutes to warm up.’ Not sure what to do with myself, I hovered by the kitchen table for a moment.
‘I could murder a beer. Do you want some wine?’ he asked.
‘Okay.’
Mouse fetched the drinks. ‘Cheers.’ He clinked his beer can against my glass as we sat down.
‘Thanks for the cake by the way. I had some for lunch, it was fantastic. I also came to tell you that I won’t be around tomorrow. I’m off to London to tackle Orlando about selling the shop.’
‘It’ll break his heart,’ I said, aghast. ‘It’s his life.’
‘Do you think I don’t know that?’ he snapped. ‘But we can’t go on like this. As I said to you – and him too – the business can be run online. The money from the sale of the building can at least clear the debts we’ve accrued. And I have to buy some new machinery to keep the farm going. I understand your sentiments, but I’m afraid life is cruel, Star, and that’s the way it is.’
‘I know,’ I said as I bit my lip to stem the tears that were threatening to form.
‘Sadly, one of us brothers has to live in reality, and to be frank, if I don’t do something now, we’re in danger of the bank declaring the business bankrupt and seizing the shop as an asset against our debt. Which would mean they’d sell it for a tenth of what it’s actually worth, and we’d see precious little of the funds that would be left over from the sale.’
‘Yes, I understand. But you must see what a loss it is. It’s a legacy—’
‘Legacy?’ he said with a derisive snort. ‘This family has never had much luck – or perhaps I should say sense – when it comes to money. We’ve only held on to High Weald by the skin of our teeth. Not that it’s my concern but I know that Marguerite is in it up to her neck too.’
‘Oh dear,’ I said lamely, and rose to retrieve the shepherd’s pie, uncertain of what else to say.
‘Anyway, not your problem, I know. Other than the fact you may have to look for another job in the next few months. Just our luck there’s a downturn in commercial property because of the world economic situation. It never rains but it pours, as they say.’
‘Don’t worry about me, it’s Orlando who will suffer.’
‘You’re very fond of him, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, very.’
‘As he is of you. There aren’t many people who can deal with his eccentricities. These days he’d probably be diagnosed with some syndrome or other – OCD and the like – and that’s aside from his determination to live his life as a throwback to a hundred years ago.’ He shook his head. ‘When we were little, it was always Orlando who had our mother’s attention. He was her darling; she home-schooled him from the age of nine because his asthma was so severe. The two of them would be holed up in the library, reading their precious Dickens. He’s never had to live in reality. As he always says, the past was a much more civilised and gentle time.’
‘Apart from the continual horrific wars,’ I said. ‘And the lack of antibiotics or any healthcare for the poor.’
He looked at me, startled, then gave me the present of a sudden laugh. ‘True. Not to mention the debtors’ prisons.’
‘Orlando wouldn’t do so well in one of those.’
‘No Sancerre and starched shirts in the poorhouse.’
We shared a wry smile as I placed his plate down in front of him, thinking how different these two brothers were, rather like CeCe and me.
‘A lot of people – not just Orlando – want to glamorise the past. I certainly do,’ he muttered with feeling as he picked up his fork to eat.
‘How old was your wife when she died?’ I asked cautiously, feeling I should broach the subject and try my best to atone for my behaviour last night.
‘Twenty-nine. We were very happy.’
‘My sister lost her fiancé in a sailing accident a couple of months ago, only just after our father died. As you say, life is cruel.’ I was forcing the words out, saying far more than I normally did, in penance.
‘I’m sorry for your sister. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone to lose their partner and their father in quick succession. It happened to me too,’ he sighed. ‘Harking back to the past again, have you any theories about how you could possibly be connected to this family?’
‘None.’
‘What? You mean you haven’t spent the past three days at High Weald searching through the drawers to find a connection?’
‘No, I . . .’
I felt a guilty heat rise to my cheeks. Mouse was so difficult to read, I had no idea whether he was teasing or rebuking.
‘I certainly would have done if I were you,’ he said. ‘Let’s face it, if you had found a connection, you could have stood to inherit what you may have thought was a significant amount of money. As it stands, we can include you in the bankruptcy petition.’
‘I haven’t searched the house, and I’m not poor,’ I added defiantly.