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Was Julia right? Maybe.
One thing was sure—this holiday was going to be make-or-break. Flora hoped she wasn’t the one who was going to break.
10
Clare
“I’ve had an email from Jack.” Clare spread butter onto toast, and added a spoonful of the orange marmalade she’d spent the whole of the day before making. Most of the jars would be stored and used for weekend treats over the coming summer, but she’d kept this one back. If she was going to toil over a boiling pan, the least she could do was savor the fruits of her labor.
“How’s he doing?” Todd reached across and stole her toast.
She gave him a look. “Why do you always eat mine?”
“Yours always tastes better for some reason. And I love your marmalade. You should start a business.”
They were sitting at the large kitchen table that had originally belonged to her grandmother and bore the scars of generations of family life. So many conversations had taken place here.
Clare ran her finger absently over one of the grooves, wondering who had carved it. “Just because you’re good at something, doesn’t mean you have to turn it into a business. Sometimes you can do something because you enjoy it.”
“I’ve annoyed you.” He leaned in and kissed her. “It was a compliment, not a real suggestion.”
“No, I’m the one being sensitive. It sounded like—”
“—something Becca would say.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I know. The moment I said it, I knew you’d think that. Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you think of her. So how is Jack?”
“He didn’t email you? He was asking about the summer.” Clare stood up and slid another slice of bread into the toaster, pondering on how different men and women were. Jack was Todd’s friend, and yet he was asking her for an update. At one point during their friendship she and Becca had been in touch almost daily, exchanging small details of their lives, sharing feelings and revealing emotions. When Becca had injured her knee and been told she’d never dance again, it was Clare she’d emailed at three in the morning and it was Becca Clare had emailed when Aiden had been born prematurely and had breathing problems. From small irritations to major life heartaches, there had been virtually nothing about their lives that they hadn’t shared.
If someone had asked her at any point how Becca was doing, Clare would have known and yet here was Todd asking her about Jack.
Was it that her relationship with Becca had been particularly close, or was it that male friendship was different? Male friendships tended to be anchored by activities rather than emotions. Todd, who had made several friends since they’d moved from London, contacted them to arrange sailing or hiking. They talked about wind direction or routes and bonded over an appreciation of the locally brewed beer.
Jack and Todd behaved like long-lost friends each summer, although their interaction bore no resemblance to the relationship Clare had with friends. They teased each other, exchanged good-natured insults, and generally kept everything light.
Maybe that type of friendship was less complicated.
Todd finished his toast. “You’re the one who makes all the arrangements. Jack and I just come along and enjoy ourselves. What did the email say? Are they coming to see us?”
“Yes.” And Clare didn’t know what to make of it. She’d read the email with a sick feeling in her stomach and so many emotions she couldn’t begin to untangle them. She started to type a reply and then stopped because her hands were shaking on the keys and she kept making mistakes. Feelings she’d worked hard to suppress had erupted past the barriers she’d put in place. She felt grief for Jack and pity for herself for having the bad fortune to find herself in this situation. She felt angry with Becca, and then guilty for feeling angry with someone who was dead.
Her fingers had finally stopped shaking but still she hadn’t responded because she didn’t know what to say. She loved Jack. She loved the children. But seeing them again would be hard. It would stoke all those feelings she’d worked hard to control. Grief. Anger. Guilt. Indecision. Oh yes, indecision. She’d burned the letter but the memory of its contents couldn’t be so easily destroyed.
“That’s great. The more the merrier. Jack and I can get some sailing and hiking in. The kids will love it.” Todd glanced at his watch. “I have to get going. I have a site visit on the other side of the valley and you know what the traffic is like at the moment.”
She did. It was another reason to be grateful she worked from home. Jack had converted one of the downstairs rooms into a study for her. The bay windows offered views across the gardens to the lake and often she found herself spending more time staring at the water than she did her computer screen.
Only as he was about to leave did she blurt out the information she’d been keeping to herself. “Jack’s bringing someone with him.”
Todd grabbed his coat from the back of the door. “I hope he’s bringing Izzy and Molly.”
“Yes, but this is someone as well as Izzy and Molly. Her name is Flora.”
Todd lifted his eyebrows. “A friend of the girls?”
“I rather got the impression,” Clare said slowly, “that she’s a friend of Jack’s.” And she felt conflicted. Her feelings were already complicated. It seemed unfair of Jack to introduce yet another complication into the mix. Their two families meshed so well, and now he was bringing a stranger.
For all her faults, Becca had been her best friend. Clare had loved her. And now she was expected to welcome her replacement. She’d have to smile and make conversation. Laugh, even though her heart was breaking and all she really wanted was to see Becca living happily with Jack.
“That’s great news.” Todd picked up his car keys. “I’m happy for Jack.”
