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‘What I mean is that’s not what a bride-to-be wants to hear,’ she said, trying to lighten the moment. ‘I should be luminous and glowing and dewy.’
‘You’re all of these things too or you will be after a few days of yoga and massage,’ said Amy, rubbing her hands together. ‘I’ve got plans for you.’
Emma stifled a yawn. ‘Sorry. It was an early start and work has been . . .’
‘Hectic,’ said Amy and she and Kirsty burst out laughing.
Emma rolled her eyes at them.
‘Come on, let’s get your bags and get settled,’ said Kirsty and she set about starting to unload the boot.
‘Here, Amy, you can take the dress,’ said Emma.
‘Are you sure you trust me with it?’
‘Absolutely.’
Emma glanced about briefly as they walked through the back door into the kitchen. Things were as pristine as ever. She smirked when she saw Amy catch her eye.
‘I can’t help it,’ said Kirsty, throwing her hands up. ‘I know, I know, I have become Mum. It’s official. I’m just used to having guests around and keeping the place tidy.’
Amy giggled as she grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and followed her sisters upstairs. Emma smiled affectionately at her. She never changed and didn’t age either.
‘We are going to put you in the hen suite,’ said Amy.
‘Have you renamed the rooms?’ said Emma, slightly confused.
‘It’s the room where you can hear the hens in the morning.’
She turned to Kirsty in shock. ‘You got hens? You didn’t tell me!’ She could feel her cheeks flush. Hens? Noisy hens? How would that work? She didn’t want noise. That wasn’t part of the plan. She just wanted some peace and quiet.
‘It’s okay,’ said Kirsty clocking her reaction and frowning at Amy. ‘She’s just winding you up. Come on, we’re putting you in the daffodil room.’
Emma followed Kirsty into the yellow room and watched as she hung the dress carrier on the wardrobe. ‘Everything that you need is in here and there are plenty of towels in the bathroom. Just make yourself at home, my lovely, and shout if you need anything.’
Emma felt herself choke up with emotion. What was wrong with her? Why was she so unreasonably annoyed at Amy’s hen comment? ‘Thank you and sorry for being grumpy. I am sure if you had hens that would have been fine.’ She shrugged. ‘Sorry I am quite tetchy at the moment.’
‘If you can’t be tetchy with us, then who can you be with?’ said Amy kindly, putting an arm on Emma’s shoulder.
Her sister’s kindness was too much, and Emma promptly burst into tears.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kirsty shot Amy a look of despair. This was not quite how she had imagined her sister’s homecoming. She had been expecting smiles and laughter and excited chatter. She was looking forward to spoiling Emma with a special breakfast and had stocked the fridge with all her favourites: thick Greek yogurt, berries, bacon and she had planned to make fresh pancakes with maple syrup. Instead, poor Emma was an emotional wreck, which didn’t bode well at all. What on earth had happened?
‘Let me just hang this safely out the way,’ Kirsty said, carefully putting away Emma’s dress in the thick oak wardrobe. Emma perched on the edge of the bed, and Kirsty sat next to her and clasped her hand. She grabbed the box of tissues from the dressing table, pulled one out and passed it to Emma who took it gratefully.
‘It’s okay, Emma,’ Kirsty said in a soothing voice. ‘You’re home now and it will all be fine. Getting married is one of the most stressful events in your life. And you’ve had an early start.’
Emma noisily blew her nose and tried to force a smile.
Kirsty was quite shocked by Emma’s emotional outburst as it was so very unlike her. She was usually calm and very much in control which made this more than a bit unsettling.
‘Take a breath,’ said Amy, sitting on her other side. She gently rubbed Emma’s back until her shuddering sobs subsided. ‘We are here, and you are okay, Emma. We’re not going anywhere. You are safe and everything will be okay.’
Kirsty sat there watching and quietly wondering if this was a delayed reaction to their mum’s death and maybe finally Emma was realizing she wasn’t coming back? Emma hadn’t cried much in front of her sisters at the funeral or at any time since then, as far as she knew. It was as though she didn’t want to let herself show her emotions.
‘How does that feel now?’ said Amy when Emma’s breathing was less ragged.
