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Clare had hoped the chaos would conceal the fragile atmosphere, but her mother had always been emotionally intuitive. Fortunately, Jack and Todd had been too busy talking cars and engines to notice anything. When they’d left, Becca had brought her cheek close to Clare’s. Clare thought she’d murmured “sorry”, but she wasn’t sure and as Becca never apologized for anything it seemed unlikely.
“I can’t remember a time when she wasn’t in my life.” She felt her mother’s hand on her arm.
“And yet the two of you were always so different.”
“I know. Becca was bright, and I was dull.”
“No!” Her mother spoke sharply. “That wasn’t it at all.”
Perhaps dull was the wrong word. Steady? Reliable? Boring? “It’s all right. I know who I am. I’m comfortable with who I am.” Until recently, she’d been able to sleep at night, satisfied with her choices. Until Becca had presented her with an impossible one.
“You steadied her and she brought out your more adventurous side. She pushed you out of your comfort zone.”
Why was that always considered a good thing?
In this case it hadn’t been good.
Clare was so far out of her comfort zone she couldn’t have found her way back with a compass or SatNav. She wanted to cling to something familiar, which is why she stared at the boathouse. But instead of all the happy times, all she saw was Becca, her beautiful face smeared with tears as she unburdened herself.
“I know something happened between you. If you want to talk about it, I’m a good listener.” Her mother produced an umbrella and slid her arm into Clare’s, sheltering both of them.
Should she tell her mother? No, that wouldn’t be fair. She hated being in this position. The last thing she was going to do was put someone else where she was standing now.
She was an adult, and way past the age where she needed her mother to untangle her problems and make decisions for her.
“I’m going to the funeral. My flight is booked.”
Her mother adjusted her grip on the umbrella. “I knew you would, because you’re you, and you always do the right thing. But I wish you wouldn’t.”
“What if you don’t know what the right thing is?”
“You always do.”
But she didn’t, that was the problem. Not this time. “I’ve already told them I’m coming.”
Her mother sighed. “It’s not as if Becca will know or care if you’re there.”
The rain thudded steadily onto the umbrella, the sky sobbing in sympathy, sending lazy drips down the back of Clare’s coat.
“I’m not going for Becca. I’m Izzy’s godmother. I want to be there for her.”
“Those poor children. I can’t bear to think about it. And Jack. Poor Jack.”
Poor Jack.
Clare stared straight ahead. “What do I say?” She knew her mother wouldn’t give her the answer she needed, because Clare hadn’t asked the question she really wanted to ask.
“They’ll find a way.” Her mother was brisk. “Life never sends us more than we can cope with.”
Clare turned to look at her, seeing lines and signs of age that hadn’t been there before her father had died. “Do you honestly believe that?”
“No, but I always think it sounds good when people say it to me. It’s reassuring.”
Clare smiled for the first time in days. On impulse she hugged her mother, ignoring the damp coat and the relentless drip from the umbrella. “I love you, Mum.”
“I love you, too.” Her mother squeezed her shoulder, the same way she had when Clare was a child and facing something difficult. You’ve got this. “Is Todd going with you?”
“I don’t want him to. He’s still working on that big project.” In fact Todd had insisted that he’d drop everything to go with her but she’d refused. This was something that would actually be easier alone. “I’ll only be gone four days.”
