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That’s it? No ‘Oh my goodness, I’m so pleased to speak with you.’ Nothing.
‘Good morning, Lady Heatherton-Smythe. This is your granddaughter, Emily.’
Silence, then: ‘I assume you are staying at a hotel?’
‘Yes, The Old Bell Inn.’
‘I’ll have someone contact you when I’m ready to see you.’
‘I’m leaving early this afternoon.’
‘Well, then we’ll see you at the service in a few weeks.’
‘Oh? Oh. Well…’
‘Of course, you could have had the grace to let me know you were coming without leaving it to the last minute.’
‘Oh, I, uhm…’ I falter.
‘That is all, Miss Weaver.’
I bite my lip, too stunned to reply as the line goes dead. And that’s the end of that.
*
‘Are youkiddingme?’ Maisie says, opening one eye. It’s as much as she can handle this morning.
‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ I tell her. ‘Get dressed, have something to eat. We have a five-hour drive ahead of us.’
‘I’m sorry about last night, Emmie.’
‘I don’t want to talk about that, either, Maisie. Just get ready, please.’
‘Alright,’ she agrees meekly, slinking off to the bathroom as I sit on the edge of my own bed.
What a crap thing to do to your only grandchild. What is wrong with this woman?
‘Are you ready?’ Maisie asks across the roof of the car as I hesitate to get in and take my place at the wheel for the longest slog ever back to Dreary Land and all the inhabitants of the Stone empire.
I finally nod. ‘Ready.’
‘You don’t look too happy, and I don’t blame you,’ Maisie observes. ‘Tell you what, I’ve an idea. Call Stephen and say we’ve both come down with food poisoning and can’t travel.’
‘As great as that sounds, we can’t do that. We’ve got students waiting, remember? Plus I’ve got an engagement party to organise and a mother-in-law to face.’
‘Ah,quelle femme horrible!’ she tsk-tsks.
‘You’ve got that right,’ I sigh as I take my place behind the wheel. ‘Come on – let’s get this bloody ordeal over with.’
As I turn for one last look at the village that surely rivals the North Pole as far as the spirit of Christmas goes, a pang of regret shoots through me. Upon arrival, I’d been so full of hope at finally having my own family of origin, albeit only one member. I’ve missed out on my grandfather. I’ve tried to get over the fact that I’ll never get to know him. I’ll never be able to call upon memories of him. All of my hopes of even a dysfunctional family (better than nothing) have been dashed. And now I know that, promises or no promises, there’s nothing for me here and that my grandmother isn’t interested in meeting me in the least, despite her letter. Well, she never need worry about seeing my face again.
Cornwall has been an interesting break from my daily life. A breath of fresh air, and I’m truly sorry to leave so much of it undiscovered. But the next seven months are going to be very busy for me, what with a wedding, a move into a new house and perhaps even a promotion to Head of Year. Not that I am looking forward to that. In truth, I’m becoming more and more disenchanted with my job at school. With London. And, well, sometimes even with Stephen. Which is a momentary thing, I know. Once he moves out of his mother’s house, we can finally live our own lives. Because every couple has its no moments and we’re going through one right now.
But the fact that worries me is that I’m the only one who seems aware of it. Because Stephen is completely oblivious. To him it’s normal that, as a couple, we don’t do a lot of things, such as cook together or curl up on the sofa and watch an old film. All we do is work and argue about his mother’s interfering in our lives, and I can’t even remember the last time Stephen and I actually made love.
