Page 111 of The Bookshop By the Loch

Corinne’s face grew taut. “I’ve already made my feelings clear. I’m not interested.”

Maeve held up one hand. “Believe me. I can understand how conflicted you must feel about it.”

“Conflicted?” Corinne choked, flashing sudden white hot looks at us both. “I don’t feel conflicted. That woman gave me up for adoption as soon as I was born. Why has she decided to track me down now?”

“My mother – our mother – did find you,” admitted Maeve. “Ten years ago, now. She mentioned it in her letter to you.”

Corinne glowered.

“She hired a private investigator to find you. She followed you to one of the music venues that you were performing at, but she just couldn’t approach you in the end.”

Corinne’s full mouth grew tighter. “Yes, she did mention something in her letter about that.” She gave her husband a look beside her. “Bottled out at the last minute.”

“And she regretted that too,” insisted Maeve. “It isn’t true about her wanting to have you adopted. She wanted to keep you. She really did. But my grandparents wouldn’t hear of it. It broke her heart saying goodbye to you.”

Corinne flapped her hand as though defending herself from a swarm of irritating insects. “I just told you. I’m not interested. I want both of you to leave. Now.”

Maeve took another step closer to the hedge partitioning Corinne’s garden from the street pavement. “What, not even when we tell you that my mother has weeks to live?”

Corinne squinted over at us from her quiet, tranquil corner of suburbia. “Pardon?”

Maeve moved to explain about Celeste, but her voice dried up.

I gave her a brief smile of understanding and took over. “What Maeve is trying to tell you is that Celeste has advanced osteoporosis, and now her heart is struggling. She only has a matter of weeks left.”

Fletcher Young turned to study his wife. She shot him an unfathomable expression. “I’m sorry to hear that. She never mentioned anything about being ill in her letter.”

Maeve managed to compose herself again. “Would it have made any difference if she had?”

Corinne didn’t answer. She bent down and scooped up her guitar from beside her. “Like I said, I’m very sorry to hear that.”

Maeve waited, but any shreds of optimism in her eyes soon died. “So that’s it?”

Corinne stared levelly over the low hedge at her half-sister. “What do you want me to say? I don’t know her.”

“And that’s why we’re here,” ground out Maeve. “My mother wants to speak to you. She wants to apologise.”

Corinne rubbed her face in frustration. “Like I said, my condolences, but it’s too late.”

Maeve’s frustration bubbled over. “Shall I return to the residential home now and tell her that then?! I’m sure that’ll make her day.”

She started to say something else, but before she uttered something she might regret, I gave Maeve’s arm a supportive squeeze and pointed her back towards her car. “Go and wait for me please, Maeve. I won’t be a minute.”

Her dark eyes were fired up. “But, Lexie, you know the truth.”

“Celeste wouldn’t want you getting yourself upset like this and having a barney in the middle of the street.”

Maeve opened and closed her mouth. She swiped at her damp eyes with her bare arm. With a swirl of her dress hem, she marched back to her car. She jumped into the driver side and banged the door shut.

I edged a little closer to the hedge. “I do understand how difficult this situation is. My father walked out on my mother and me twenty-three years ago. I received the odd birthday and Christmas card. Then he returned recently from the States. Just showed up out of the blue.” I paused. “It turns out he has dementia.”

Corinne listened. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Don’t get me wrong. I have no illusions about who my father was. He chose his career over his wife and child.” I paused and cleared my throat, as Corinne and Fletcher Young watched me. “But soon, he won’t be that man anymore. He won’t even recognise us.”

I glanced over my shoulder. Maeve was glowering through the windscreen at Corinne.

“What I’m trying to say is, nobody expects you to forget what happened. It’s like me with my dad. Don’t let regret be the only thing you remember about her in the end.” I managed a fleeting smile. “I’m sorry if we’ve upset you. That wasn’t our intention. Celeste didn’t want to tell you about her health, in case you decided to see her out of pity.”