Chapter Eighteen
Loretta
Loretta’s heart pounded as she watched her youngest daughter put her phone into the pocket of her jeans and go back into the shop.Bombing?Had she really heard that word on Daisy’s lips? Surely not, it made no sense at all.
She tried to put any panic out of her mind. Daisy was level-headed now, she wasn’t up to anything untoward, she couldn’t be. ‘It’s looking wonderful,’she said of the block Ginny had almost finished working on. Ginny had chosen to add a candle holder patch to the quilt because it reminded her so much of her grandad’s favourite nursery rhyme, ‘Wee Willie Winkie’. Ivor had told each of her girls the rhyme during their childhoods and it had brought back so many memories for all of them. Loretta loved the rhyme’s imagery, its personificationof sleep, and this block was perfect for his Christmas quilt.
With every thought and every detail that went into the Christmas quilt, Loretta felt the fabric of her family settle a little more around her. Her girls were as strong as they’d always been, they were beginning to find one another again, and it gave her hope that when the truth finally came out, they’d all get through it together.
‘You really should plan a holiday next year, Mum,’ Fern said when the lady who’d wanted some Christmas-themed fat quarters went on her way. Fern had finally sewn most of the way around the gingerbread character on the cream material block and seemed satisfied with her progress.
‘Haven’t we talked about this already?’
‘We have. But you really could do with a break,’ Fern went on. ‘Everyone whohas a job has holidays.’
‘She’s right, Mum,’ Daisy joined in.
‘I don’t even know where I’d go.’
‘Anywhere!’ Ginny interjected.
‘Why do I get the impression you’re all ganging up on me?’ Although she kind of liked it, it meant they were drawing closer together, precisely what she’d wanted. ‘I’ll think about it.’
As she left the girls to their quilting she took the opportunity to unpack thebox of angora wool in the most beautiful lavender colour down the farthest aisle, next to the window. Her hands relished its softness as she pushed each ball of wool onto the shelf section and she thought about Harry as she often did when she was in here among the beautiful fabrics and textures, when she caught sight of his photograph on the wall, and when she had time for her mind to wander.
Harry had had the kindest eyes and a smile so big it lit up his whole face. He was a brilliantly minded mathematician and she’d been drawn to his intellect, adoring the way he could get so immersed in a topic he barely came up for air. When Harry reached his late forties and needed reading glasses the sexy professor look had only added to his appeal, and that was how she liked to remember him, lookingup at her from whatever he was focusing on, giving his kind smile that told herI know you.On the whole Loretta and Harry had had a good marriage, besides the normal ups and downs, and despite one very big down she hadn’t been sure they’d get through at the time. Harry had been in the wrong, but then so had she. Both of their actions had nearly broken their marriage apart, but it was as thoughfrom their lowest point they had begun to rediscover one another. They worked through everything that had happened. He told her she had forgiven him on a deeper level than he could ever imagine, he was willing to walk away for what he’d done and wouldn’t blame her for wanting him to. But Loretta had known, and admitted, that the part she’d played had been more subtle but no less damaging. Her passionfor the business combined with motherhood left little time for anything else and along the way, unintentionally, she’d shut Harry out. He’d offered to look after the accounts and manage the shop’s finances when she was struggling so much she was worried she’d lose the Butterbury Sewing Box. He’d offered to take the reins with the accounts and free her up to deal with the part she loved, butLoretta had wanted to do it all herself. She guarded the shop that had been in her family for years as though letting anyone help take the strain might take a piece of it away from her. She felt it was solely her responsibility to save it and get on top of the financial difficulties. She didn’t want to burden her husband when really she should’ve recognised that as a family business, that’s exactlywhat she should’ve done.
Loretta had always given her all to the Butterbury Sewing Box. Even when Daisy was very young Loretta had worked long hours and juggled parenthood as though she was the star performer in a circus, she’d left little time for anything else. And in her late forties when she began to feel so low, so exhausted and drained of energy with sleepless nights beginning to take theirtoll, her doctor had put her on a course of antidepressants. But the tablets hadn’t done much at all and she’d continued to push Harry away. Things had got so bad between them that Loretta eventually asked Harry for a trial separation, she couldn’t bear to be around him, she hated the way she was being so awful to him and treating him as though he was in the way but yet she couldn’t stop whatshe was doing. And the way he looked at her all hurt and distraught that his wife was falling apart in front of his eyes made it even worse. She felt like a total failure. With the business, with him. Harry had agreed on the trial separation and before long separation led to talk of divorce.
Both Harry and Loretta had worried about their girls, they’d been the priority no matter what. Neitherof them wanted to hurt Fern, Ginny and Daisy and so they’d told their daughters that Harry would be working away during the week and home at weekends. Then at weekends they’d done their best to pretend everything was normal. Harry had begged to come back permanently but Loretta had told him no. Their conversations became scant and when they did speak it got them nowhere, over and over again. Lorettareached the point where she barely knew herself anymore and bit by bit she was falling apart, but on the surface she was trying to prove to the rest of the world that she was fine.
If only she’d let Harry in sooner, if they’d communicated with one another they might never have reached breaking point. They might never have wasted all that time apart.
Loretta eventually made an appointment atthe bank and with finances in both names, Harry came too. After the appointment to secure a small loan to tide her over for a while, she and Harry sat in a café. It had been pouring with rain that day, the sort of rain that pelted the windows with such ferocity that all you could see was water running down the glass.
That day she’d told him everything – how the shop had had a quiet spell, howthe repairs they’d had to do to the roof had used up most of the spare cash, how she’d forgotten to reorder stock more than once and hadn’t had the energy to secure big discounts the way she might once have done. And as it all came tumbling out she’d realised what a weight she’d been putting on her shoulders without letting anyone else help at all. She’d looked across at Harry, her poor husband,who was being so patient with her when she was the one who’d instigated the separation, she was the one who’d been the most distant and it was she who mentioned the word divorce. She apologised for how awful she’d been to him, how she’d held him at arm’s length. She wanted him in her life and she was terrified that it was too late.
She begged Harry to forgive her and please come home. But whenhe did, his truth had come out, and that had been something he didn’t ever expect her to forgive. He felt sure she’d want to go ahead with the divorce and he said he wouldn’t blame her if she did.
When Daisy went off the rails when she was fifteen, something neither she nor Harry had ever determined the cause of, and had put down to her hanging out with the wrong crowd, Harry had been a towerof strength. The counselling they’d already been through as a couple had made their bond stronger than ever and Loretta was thankful they’d been able to support their youngest daughter. When Harry died, Loretta had wondered whether Daisy would fall apart and history would repeat itself, but something in Daisy had made her stand up tall, pull herself together, stop living as though she was invincible.Daisy had been there for Loretta every day since, when it should’ve been the other way around. Loretta should’ve been the one encouraging Daisy to live her own life, which may or may not be in Butterbury, she should’ve been the one to support Ginny who had fallen apart in a quiet way, and she should never have left it up to Fern to provide so much support for her sisters. She imagined Harry lookingdown at her, shaking his head at the way she was handling all of this. She’d always feel guilty for not being stronger back then. And it was time she told her girls, apologised for not being there in the capacity she should’ve been.
Loretta looked at her daughters now, all three of them sitting around the Christmas tree in the Butterbury Sewing Box, working at their own blocks, helping one anotheror passing opinion as though this was what they had always been like. Loretta wished Harry could see his girls now, he’d be so proud. And she wished he was here to share the worry too, about what she had to tell all three girls, and about what to do about Daisy.
But he wasn’t. And this time she was going to have to handle it properly on her own.
