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“Good. That means you’ve had plenty of practice. And remember, I don’t like carrots.”
“Unless you let me do your makeup I’ll make carrot soup, followed by carrot casserole, with carrot cake for dessert.”
“Fine, do my makeup.” Posy slammed the dishwasher shut. “But remember, I’m a simple country girl, living my simple country life.” The only life she was ever going to live. Maybe she should run off with Luke. Rent a cabin in Alaska and spend her days avoiding moose and bears, and her nights having hot sex. “You have two minutes.”
She tried not to fidget while Beth worked. “Don’t make me look like a clown.”
“It’s going to look as if you’re not wearing any.”
“If it’s going to look as if I’m not wearing any, why bother wearing any?”
“Stop talking. I can’t do this if your face keeps moving. You were exactly the same when you were little and I tried to do your makeup.”
“It’s as bad as I remember it. Also, it isn’t going to last five minutes.”
“Ha! This lipstick is exactly what you need. According to the reviews, nothing budges it. You can kiss every man propping up the bar in the Glensay Inn and you will still be wearing this lipstick.”
“I don’t want to kiss anyone in the Glensay Inn—”
“Posy!”
Posy clamped her lips closed and tried not to wrinkle her nose as she felt the stroke and sweep of Beth’s fingers, followed by the flick of various brushes. She followed instructions to close her eyes, open her eyes, look down, pout—
“If I get teased by the team, I’m coming after you.” She turned her head as her father walked into the kitchen. “Hi, Dad.” She waved Beth and her makeup brushes away. “Where’s Mom?”
“Dad!” Beth sprinted across the kitchen and hugged him.
Stewart hugged her back, staring at Posy over Beth’s shoulder. “What happened to your face?”
“My sister happened to my face. Is something wrong with Mom?”
“She’s not feeling well.” He let go of Beth. “Her temperature is through the roof. I’ve persuaded her to stay in bed.”
“Oh no. Is it flu?”
Beth put the makeup back on the table. “She shouldn’t have taken that chicken soup to Vicky.”
“There is no way Mom would ever ignore a friend in need.” Posy grabbed a tray from the counter. “I’ll make her something to eat and take it up.”
“I don’t think she’ll want to eat.”
“Drink, then.” Posy dumped ice in a jug of water and added slices of lemon. Her mother was never ill. Maybe anxiety about Beth and Hannah had weakened her mother’s immune system. Could that happen? “Should we call the doctor?”
“Not yet.”
“You look exhausted. Sit down.” Posy pushed him gently into a chair. “Beth will make you breakfast. How about scrambled eggs on toast? Martha laid this morning and I saved the eggs for you. They’re in the bowl, Beth.”
Beth was scribbling in her notepad. “I just need to—”
“You need to make
Dad an omelet. Here’s the pan.” Posy thrust it at her sister, together with a box of eggs. The way she felt right now, if Beth didn’t step up, she’d be cracking those eggs over her head, and not because her sister had once told her it was a perfect treatment for hair.
She stomped up the stairs and met Hannah at the top.
“Hi, Posy. I don’t suppose you could—”
“No, I couldn’t. My to-do list is already longer than Santa’s.” Guilt stopped her in her tracks. She’d been wanting Hannah to talk to her, but the timing couldn’t have been worse. “Sorry. Bit of a morning. Are you okay? What did you want?”
