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‘Tori,’ Charlie shrieks. ‘Tori, what the f… what on earth are you doing? Where are you?’
‘Florence.’ In the background I can hear Charlie’s twin boys crashing around and Ben, her husband, grumbling.
‘Well, that’s rich! That’s bloody rich, going off on a jaunt when the Cheviots are still lambing.’
‘You spoke to Duncan, then.’
‘Of course I spoke to Duncan,’ she says. ‘He phoned me yesterday. Really, Tori, you are appallingly selfish.’
There are roses on the ceiling. They look like Tudor roses, but they can’t be, can they? ‘He hasn’t phoned me,’ I say.
‘I should think not. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, poor bloke. He’s in pieces.’
‘How?’
Charlie sighs. ‘What do you mean, how?’
‘How is he in pieces? I’ve never seen it happen. I mean, he got a bit aerated once about fishing permits, but I don’t think that counts.’
‘I don’t know how you can joke at a time like this,’ Charlie says.
Tears are rising, hot and itchy. I rub at my eyes with the heel of my hand. I don’t want to cry, not now, not again.
‘Look,’ Charlie says in that irritating tone of supreme patience, the one she affects when one of the twins makes a Poor Choice like peeing on the floor, or exposing himself to the next-door neighbours. ‘I see what’s going on. Farm life is stressful and you’re tired, and obviously the whole misunderstanding about Granny’s funeral just tipped you over the edge.’
‘It wasn’t a misunderstanding,’ I say. ‘He tried to stop me going! And he lied about the vigil. I could have been there with Granny’s friends. I could have said goodbye to her properly with people who loved her, rather than on my own, in a cold empty church, with bloody Mummy doing her Iron Lady act. Thanks for abandoning me, by the way.’
‘Now, that’s not fair. You know perfectly well—’
‘Why would he do that?’ I burst out. ‘I hardly got to see Granny when she was alive. And Duncan must have known how much I missed her – what she meant to me. Why would he do this now she’s dead? Why would he lie?’
‘I don’t know,’ Charlie says. ‘Maybe he really did think you wouldn’t cope. And you’re not coping, are you? Maybe he felt justified in telling just one lie for the sake of a quiet life.’
‘But that’s it. How can you know?’
‘What?’
‘How can you know it was just one lie? How can I know?’ The tears are spilling over, rolling down my face. ‘I only found out about the vigil because Angie told me. What else has he lied about? What if Granny tried to call me from the hospital? What if I could have…’ My voice chokes in my throat and I break into sobs.
‘Tori, take a deep breath and listen. You’re grieving.’ Charlie’s voice is firm. ‘You’re grieving, and grief warps our perception. It makes us irrational, and that’s exactly what you’re being. Irrational and paranoid. So why don’t you have a proper break, process some of those feelings, and then you and Duncan can talk it all over. I’m sure he’ll understand why you needed some space. I can speak to him if you like.’
‘Don’t,’ I manage to say.
‘No, no, it’s no trouble. I mean, life’s hectic here with the children and the community development project and oh yes, I volunteered us all for this red kite preservation thing although God knows they hardly need preserving any more – I’m forever shooing the bloody things out of my garden but anyway, it’s so important for the children to see usmaking an effortand oh yes, what was I saying? Of course I can phone Duncan for you and explain that you’re not yourself right now. And then I’m sure he’ll be happy for you to go back and sort it all out when you’ve finished looking at paintings, or whatever. I never really got the Florence thing myself,’ she adds, with unnecessary sanctimony. ‘I know you love it and I know Granny did, too. But let’s be honest, it’s just Disneyland for people who think they’re cultured. Still, if you need a few days there to get your head together, who am I to judge?’
‘I’m staying here,’ I say.
‘Of course you are. I expect you’ve found some overpriced room with a view so you can recreate all those marvellous trips with Granny.’
‘No!’ It comes out like a strangled shout. I take a deep breath and clear my throat. ‘I mean, I’m staying here. I’m not going back. What Duncan did – what I know he did – it was the last straw. I can’t live like that any more. I can’t.’
‘You’re overreacting, Tori,’ Charlie says. ‘He made a judgement call. It wasn’t a good one, but we all mess up from time to time. Surely he deserves a bit of compassion?’
‘And that,’ I say, ‘is thefucking problem. There was never any compassion for me. He’s been treating me like shit for years before this – years. I don’t think he even sees me as a person.’
‘But how does he treat you like shit?’ Charlie sounds genuinely baffled. ‘I’m sorry, but it just doesn’t sound like him.’
‘Well, it is. Do you really need more proof?’
