Crouched over her open suitcase, she snagged a clean pair of shorts just as a knock on the front door echoed down the hall.
She froze, wondering whether it was Ellie or Noah who’d come—because who else would bother?
‘Hello? Is anyone home?’
Her heart thumped in her chest as she stood. She didn’t recognise the voice.
‘Beth? It’s Olive. Flo’s sister.’
Olive? Beth hadn’t even met her. What on earth was she doing here?
Cringing at her crumpled two-day-old outfit and—she sniffed her shirt—god, her stench, she dropped her shorts back in the suitcase, quickly changed her top and sprayed on some deodorant, then went to answer the door.
Pulling it wide, she found an older woman standing on her doorstep, a sturdier, healthier-looking and slightly younger version of Flo.
‘Um, h-hi, Olive. What … what can I do for you?’ She wanted to kick herself immediately—the woman had just buried her sister! But it was too late now; the moment for offering condolences had passed.
Olive smiled kindly, making Beth want to weep at her resemblance to her sister.
‘It’s nice to finally meet you, Beth.’ Olive offered her hand. ‘Florrie talked about you a lot, so I feel like I know you!’
‘She did?’ Beth briefly put her hand in Olive’s.
‘Of course! She was pleased as punch when you decided to stay in town.’
Shoving her hands into her skirt’s pockets, Beth nodded, realising belatedly that the moment called for something more than her murmured, ‘Oh.’ She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. ‘Would you like to come in? I don’t really have anything to offer you, though. I’ve just moved in and haven’t stocked the kitchen.’
‘Oh, no need. I won’t be long, but I do need to talk to you, if that’s okay.’
‘Sure.’ Stepping back, Beth let Olive inside, then led the way through to the living area.
With every step, her anxiety spiked. What on earth could Olive have to say to her? Did she expect Beth to talk about how she’d found Flo, dead in her chair? Because Beth refused to relive that moment.
‘I’m sorry,’ she blurted, turning to Olive when they reached the camping chairs that Noah had left for when they took breaks. ‘About your sister, I mean. I’m sorry for your loss.’
‘Oh, thank you. That’s kind of you.’ Olive eyed her, clearly curious as she lowered herself into a chair. ‘I was surprised, actually, not to see you at the funeral. I know the two of you were close.’
Beth ducked her head and looked away. ‘We, uh … we were, but I had to work. I-I couldn’t get it off. I’m sorry.’
Olive shook her head. ‘No,I’msorry. I worded that badly. You don’t owe me an explanation or an apology. I just …’ She reached out and covered Beth’s hand with her own. ‘It’s never easy to lose someone we care about and I know funerals aren’t for everyone.’
Beth nodded, but despite Olive’s apparent understanding, she could not bring herself to make eye contact.
‘So,’ she said, hoping to hurry this meeting along, ‘what did you need to speak to me about?’
Olive reached into her oversized handbag. ‘I’ve been sorting out Flo’s things and came across this.’ She took out an envelope that she handed to Beth. ‘I think it’s fairly obvious that she meant for you to have it.’
Beth’s name was written on the envelope in cursive. She flipped it over and saw that it was sealed. ‘Do you know what’s in it?’ she asked, looking up at Olive.
‘No, although she did leave a letter for me, too.’ Olive frowned and appeared to consider her next words carefully. ‘Apparently, she knew her time had come.’
‘What?’ Shock overshadowed Beth’s curiosity. ‘You mean, she knew she was dying? And she didn’t say anything?’
Nodding as she reached into her bag again, Olive pulled out a tissue and dabbed her eyes. ‘She hadn’t wanted to burden anyone with news of a stage-four cancer diagnosis.’ Throwing her head back, Olive chuckled softly. ‘That kind of thing was typical of Florrie. She never wanted to cause a fuss. And she rightly assumed I’d try to convince her to get treatment.’
‘Butwhy? Why wouldn’t she tell anyone?’ Beth’s shock was quickly dissipating, only to be replaced by anger. A rage brewed, deep down in her gut.
‘Well,’ Olive began, not seeming mad at all, ‘she said in her letter that she’d lived her life and was ready for the next great adventure.’
