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Robin took a deep breath. He wanted to say so many things but was unable to find a way to bring the words out. ‘If I could change what’s happened I would.’ ‘I feel wretched.’ ‘I miss Billy.’ ‘I’m sorry.’ ‘I love you.’ But the words stayed buried.
Kate closed her book, putting it on the table. She lifted Monty onto the floor and stood, brushing off her long navy needlecord skirt as she did. ‘I’ll see you in a bit.’ She picked up the car keys from the dresser and left the room.
Robin couldn’t tell if she’d been talking to him or the dog.
29
Tilda sat in Flora’s kitchen, an empty pot of tea between them. Having taken the children to the beach for a runabout after school, they’d returned to Flora’s house and the children had plonked themselves in front of the television in the sitting room next door.
‘It’s almost six – can we have a glass of wine now?’ Tilda looked at Flora, hands pressed together.
‘I’ll see what’s in the fridge.’
‘Flo, I hope you don’t mind me asking – please say if you’d rather not talk about it – but is there any news on your parents?’
‘Not really. Mum hasn’t changed her mind. I haven’t spoken to Dad for a bit; I honestly don’t know what to say. I feel if there’s anyone who should have my support first it’s her, really. After all, she didn’t do anything wrong. But I don’t want it to be about taking sides. And with everything we’ve gone through recently…’ Flora poured out two glasses.
‘Ooh, fizz! Really?’ Tilda tried not to sound too excited.
‘Napoleon said in victory you deserve champagne. In defeat you need it. Something like that, anyway.’ She passed Tilda a glass. ‘Well, this is actually an English sparkling wine but whatever, cheers.’ They clinked their glasses. The toasty bubbles washed across Flora’s mouth, leaving a streak of orchard-fruit flavours in its wake.
‘Can I ask you a technical question?’ Tilda took a sniff of her glass.
‘Go ahead, caller.’
‘Why don’t you use flutes? I noticed you always use a normal wine glass even for fizz.’
‘Because you can’t stick your nose into a flute like you can a wine glass. And smelling it is one of my favourite bits, so I don’t want to miss out.’ As if to demonstrate, Flora swilled her glass, and stuck her nose in, taking a big sniff. ‘See? Gorgeous.’
Tilda did the same. ‘I suppose. But I usually forget to smell it anyway.’ She grinned at her friend.
‘I know, Tilda, you’re a lost cause.’ Flora laughed. ‘So, to answer your question, no news on my parents. But it’s the trial next week so maybe after that I’ll talk to them about it again. As Johnny’s told me a million times, it’s not my problem to fix. They’re grown-ups, too, apparently.’ Flora couldn’t help but roll her eyes.
‘You know, if you do decide to go – to court, I mean – Susie and I can help out with the kids if you need us to, or one of us could come with you, if that would help?’
‘You’re very kind. Thank you.’ Flora took another sip of her wine. ‘But I’m not going.’
‘Oh, OK.’ Tilda sipped her wine.
‘I want to save as much space in my head as I can for Billy, not fill it with things I don’t want to know.’
Tilda nodded sympathetically. She couldn’t help but feel that ignoring it wouldn’t make it any easier, but Flora seemed adamant. ‘Whatever you think is right for you, Flo. But just to say, we’re here for you.’
‘Thank you, lovely friend.’ Flora raised her glass to Tilda once more. ‘Now, I need to ask your opinion on something. And be honest because I think maybe I’m going a bit mad.’
Tilda shifted in her seat. ‘I’m all ears.’
Flora sat back down, placing a bowl of crinkle-cut crisps between them. ‘No judgement, OK?’
‘No judgement.’ Tilda tried to look serious, then reached for a crisp.
‘So, I drove down to the churchyard near home earlier this week. To visit Billy’s headstone.’
‘I thought—’
‘I know, I didn’t think I’d grow to like going there either but it turns out it gives me a chance to think. Anyway, I was standing there, you know, just kind of… taking in the view and I turned and saw a woman sitting on the bench under the tree. The one where I sometimes like to sit. I know it’s not my bench but I realised I’m not used to sharing it. Whatever,’ Flora waved her hand, ‘she was sitting there, the woman. I’ve never seen her before but there’s something about her that seems instantly familiar. And I can’t put my finger on it. I’m thinking, have I met you before? But then I think, she’s just here to visit someone, too. But when I turn again, she’s gone. Like, literally vanished. And when I get home, it hits me. It’s the mother of the boy who hit Billy’s car.’
Tilda practically spat her wine out. ‘How on earth do you know? Have you seen her before?’ She wiped at her mouth.
