Page 62 of The Sunrise Sisterhood

‘We can talk about it later. Sorry we didn’t return your calls, it’s been a bit manic,’ said Skye, with a small smile. ‘For now, Clare’s in a lot of pain and Ivy needs a wash. Why don’t you bring some of the shopping in, see what we can salvage?’

The air in the kitchen felt soupy with tension. Conversation was restricted to the absolutely necessary; mostly Clare telling Skye how to undo Ivy’s clothes, Skye repeating that she could work it out for herself and Ivy making grunty noises as she tried to escape her aunt’s grasp. Neither of her god-daughters were meeting her eye.

Liz unpacked the shopping and filled the kettle, wishing she could slide out of the room unnoticed and disappear to bed. But that was the coward’s way out; if she did that, the problems would still be there in the morning. She wasn’t going to go to bed tonight until she’d put things right.

Skye had to virtually force Clare into a chair and Ivy was at her mum’s knees whining to be picked up. Clare fondled her daughter’s curls, all the time talking to her, her lips curved into a smile. Skye bustled about, finding cushions to support Clare’s arm and fetching the painkillers she’d been given.

Liz stifled a sob, wanting to help, but not daring to. These two wonderful young women had done everything in their power to get the business back on track since they’d arrived, and she’d thrown their help back in their faces. It was down to her to make amends, to prove to them both that their hard work hadn’t been for nothing.

She finished making the tea, mustered up a smile and carried the mugs to where Clare was sitting in front of the patio doors.

‘Here we are.’ Liz set Clare’s where she could reach it with her good hand and took a seat in an empty armchair, holding a mug for herself. ‘I bet you’re ready for a drink?’

‘Not as ready as you were earlier,’ Skye said pointedly.

Clare snorted gently.

‘It’s not funny,’ Liz murmured, hiding her face behind her mug.

‘This certainly isn’t funny,’ said Clare, indicating her arm.

‘None of it is,’ Skye added. ‘I hope you don’t mind, Liz, but I messaged Ele offering her a discount.’

‘Absolutely,’ she replied, her face hot with shame. ‘It’s the least we can do. Thank you.’

‘She refused.’ Skye continued, ‘They all had a great time and even ate the part of the cake which was still intact. She also complimented your dancing.’

Liz exhaled, tears were close to the surface again. She’d been sure that the biggest order that the business had taken for almost two years had been about to end in financial loss.

‘You were dancing ?’ Clare murmured. Her face was taut with tension and Liz could tell she was in pain.

She nodded and gulped her tea, which was too hot and burned her throat. She put it down where Ivy couldn’t reach it and joined the little girl on the rug, where she was pressing the buttons on a musical toy. ‘I’m mortified. I drank too much while I was at work. Someone drove me home, and I’m going to have to go back tomorrow to collect everything and face Ele again.’

‘Male or female?’ Clare demanded.

‘Female. That pretty girl with the dark curly hair – Marta.’

‘Thank God.’ Clare sank back against her pillows and closed her eyes. ‘If I wasn’t in so much discomfort, I’d be really mad with you.’

Liz knew she deserved that. ‘I’m already mad enough at myself for both of you.’

‘I’m not mad,’ said Skye. ‘Just a bit confused. Why would you jeopardise everything for the sake of a drink?’

Liz’s eyes stung; she didn’t know what to say.

Ivy yawned and crawled into Liz’s lap, rubbing her eyes.

‘You’re tired, sweetheart,’ she said, gathering the little girl to her and holding her to her chest. It was a hug, of sorts, if a little one-sided, and it was just what she needed.

‘It’s way past her bedtime,’ Clare said, shuffling herself up straight. ‘And she needs a proper bath after being sick.’

Liz and Skye exchanged wary looks; this was going to be fun.

‘Why don’t we get you upstairs and comfortable in bed with some extra pillows,’ Liz suggested. ‘You need to rest and let your body recover.’

‘I’m going to be in this sling for weeks, I can’t sit in bed all that time,’ Clare argued.

‘No,’ said Skye. ‘And you can’t be stroppy all that time either. OK with you if I bath Ivy and get her ready for bed?’