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‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ Henry asked James.
James looked shocked. ‘Er, I don’t know at the moment, but thanks.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Right now, I just need to get back. Mum’s losing it and I need to book flights and find out more information.’ He turned to Estelle. ‘Can you make sure Elyse is okay?’
Estelle nodded, her heart cracking.
‘And can you come into work any earlier tomorrow?’ he continued.
Drawing on all her reserves, she stood a little straighter. ‘Yes, of course.’
‘Thank you. I’ll see you then.’
James nodded at Henry, glanced at Elyse, who was still crying into Estelle’s chest, then got in his car and screeched away.
Elyse lifted her head and wiped her eyes. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘No need. Shall we go now? I can drive if you want? I’ve only had one drink.’
‘No, I can do it. Just give me a second to get my bag.’ She dashed back into the pub.
‘Well, she’s certainly his type,’ Henry said as he watched her go.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
He frowned. ‘She’s just like Elizabeth and Summer. Blonde, slim and pretty.’ He let out a sigh. ‘I don’t know how long he’ll be away, or what this is going to mean for the festival, but I’m here for you, Estelle. We all are. Okay?’
She nodded. ‘I’ll speak to you tomorrow as soon as I know more.’
24
‘We’re so proud of you, honey.’
‘Promise to write, darling?’
‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Ha!’
In her dream, Estelle was thirteen again, standing with her parents outside the manor as they waved Henry off to Eton. The cord that had bound her and her brother so tightly since the womb was stretching until she feared it would snap.
Heart aching, she reached for her twin.
Henry’s gaze passed over her as if she wasn’t there, then he walked away.
She turned to her parents. ‘Don’t let him go!’
They ignored her. Her mom had her arms around her mammy, who was dabbing the corners of her eyes. Her father had his arm aloft as he waved goodbye.
Estelle ran towards Henry, but no matter how fast she pumped her legs, she couldn’t catch up with him. His uniform was archaic but pristine, the white collar starched, his black shoes shiny. Glancing down, she saw the dinosaur-patterned pyjamas she’d loved as a child. One year she’d asked for them for Christmas, but they’d been gifted to Henry instead, and she was given pink Minnie Mouse ones. She’d eventually got her brother’s cast-offs, but by that time they had holes in them and the pattern had faded.
‘Henry! Wait!’
He turned, but now it wasn’t Henry anymore in the smart clothes, it was James.
Stopping, he glanced at what she was wearing and frowned.
‘Please,’ she began. ‘Don’t go.’
He looked at her with a mixture of sympathy and condescension. ‘It isn’t your place. You have to stay here.’
‘But I can’t keep doing this on my own!’
