17
Sara
T he snowfall had transformed the village. Snow clung to roofs and dusted the cobbles, softening edges and adding a magical atmosphere that compensated for the cold. The lights strung across the street glowed cheerfully, and shop windows were laden with festive goods designed to entice the casual shopper inside.
Sara pushed open the door of the village hall and kicked the snow off her boots before she walked in.
The hubbub of noise told her that she was probably last to arrive and did nothing for the throb in her head. The day had been utterly draining, but inside she felt calmer than she had in a long time. She’d been worried that seeing Imogen would take them all backward, but that wasn’t how it felt. It felt more like taking a step forward.
And she was so ready for that.
“Sara!” One of the doctors who worked in the local practice spotted her and hurried across. She was wearing a pair of antlers that kept sliding over her eyes. “How are you?”
“I’m well, thanks, Nadia. You?” Sara hugged her and then reached out and straightened her friend’s antlers. “You have something growing out of your head. You should probably see a doctor about that.”
“Can’t get an appointment.” Her friend winked at her. “The doctors around here are terrible, haven’t you heard?”
“In fact, I hadn’t.” Their local surgery was fantastic, and Sara knew how lucky they were. “Those antlers suit you.”
“They are my protection.” Nadia adjusted them. “It’s harder for people to corner me and tell me their health problems when I’m looking ridiculous. I keep meaning to tell you how much we loved that mixed crate of wine Patrick sent us in the summer. The red was sublime.”
“Anytime you want a top-up just give us a call.”
“I will, and—” Nadia broke off as she saw someone over Sara’s shoulder. “Oh no, I see someone I need to avoid or I’ll be talking about body parts at a children’s party. I’ll catch you later. Good to see you, Sara. You look gorgeous by the way. Love the coat.” She flew off across the room and Sara watched her go with a smile.
This was her life.
Living here, knowing everyone, was so important to her. After the devastating events of her childhood, the community had wrapped itself around her and her mother and provided a warm and comforting layer of protection between her and the world. Sara felt as if she belonged here. This place, and the people, felt like family. She had no secrets from them and their generosity and acceptance at the lowest point in her life had helped heal the scars left by her sister’s rejection.
“Hey, Sara.” Paul, her friend who owned the bookshop, appeared by her side. “Before that husband of yours notices you’re here and monopolizes you, I just wanted to say I tracked down that book.”
“Book?” Her mind was still full of Imogen and where this might lead, and it took Sara a moment to work out what he was talking about.
“Volcanoes?”
“Of course! Volcanoes. You found it?”
“And gift-wrapped it. All Shona has to do is write the label, and no doubt she’ll do that with her usual artistic flair. Are you and Patrick still on for our post-Christmas gathering?”
They’d managed to find a date that worked for all of them and she was already looking forward to it. “Definitely. My mother is babysitting.”
“Good, because you’re in charge of drinks.” He leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Take care of yourself, beautiful. I need to dash. I’ve left Rick struggling in the store by himself and you know what it’s like this close to Christmas. He’ll be stressing. Hope the girls enjoy the party.” He headed for the door, and Sara finally took a proper look around her.
Someone had taken time to make the place as festive as possible. A huge tree sparkled in one corner, and curtains of tiny stars cascaded over the usually plain walls.
People milled in small groups, parents dropping off children, then pausing to chat and catch up.
Sara spotted Ava and Iris among the crowd and then Patrick, who was talking to Mrs. Parsons, the owner of the local riding stables. She was a brisk, no-nonsense woman, who had taught Sara as a child.
Sara found her as scary now as she had back then. Even though she was now a grown woman with a family of her own, she still called her “Mrs. Parsons.”
Patrick excused himself from the conversation and strode across to her.
“Edna says that Iris is a born rider, which is high praise coming from her. She thinks we should consider buying her a pony.”
“Edna? Why are you calling her Edna?”
“Because that’s her name? And because she told me to call her Edna. I could hardly say ‘actually, my wife is terrified of you and I’d rather call you Mrs. Parsons.’”
Sara rolled her eyes. “We are not buying Iris a pony. Thelma will do fine for now.”
“Great. You can tell her that.” Patrick saw her expression and grinned. “Just kidding. I already told her that.”
She batted her eyelashes at him. “You’re so big and brave.”
“What can I say? Edna and I are besties. She’s a great big pussy cat underneath that frightening act she puts on. Also, it helps that I keep her supplied with wine.” He drew her to one side, and his tone changed. “I’ve been worrying about you. How was it?”
Where to begin? “It was...interesting.”
“But not awful?” He studied her face, and she felt a rush of love for him.
“Bits of it were awful, but she did listen to us and she’s still here, so that’s a good outcome.” And more than she’d hoped for when Imogen had stormed off at lunchtime. She heard a shriek and saw Ava chasing Iris and their other friends round the room as they waited for the party to start. “How much sugar have they had?”
“Enough to keep them hyperactive until Christmas. Don’t judge.” He slipped his arm round her, ignoring the fact that they were in public. “That’s what happens when you leave me in charge. You’re the disciplinarian. I’m the fun parent. I say yes to everything.”
It made her smile even though she knew it wasn’t true.
“I’m not judging. I’m grateful to you for riding to the rescue. Hi, Ellen—” she greeted a mother from school who was dropping off her daughter. “Everything okay?”
“Great, thanks. Hi, Patrick.” Ellen’s gaze lingered on Patrick fractionally longer than appropriate and then she drifted away with a smile and a vague invitation that they should have coffee “sometime.”
Both of them knew they wouldn’t be grabbing a coffee anytime soon. It was small talk. But it didn’t bother Sara. She liked living here. Liked knowing that if she walked down the high street, she’d bump into at least six people she knew.
She slipped her arm through Patrick’s. “Why does she always look at you as if she wants to sweep you into a dark corner?”
“Because she knows I’m unavailable—” he lowered his head and kissed her briefly “—and therefore I’m a challenge.”
Sara had a feeling it was more than that, but she didn’t say anything. “Sadly for her I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”
“Because I’m all that stands between you and Edna?”
“Of course. Why else?”
“Seems I need to up my game.” His tone was light, but he gave her a searching look. “Are you going to give me the details of what happened today?”
“Yes, but not here. Too many listening ears.”
He checked his watch. “Their party starts in ten minutes. We have a whole two hours to ourselves. I thought we could go wild and go and have tea and cinnamon cookies at the Bakehouse.”
“I like that idea.” Even after so many years together, the prospect of spending time with him always lifted her spirits. “And I need to pick up a couple of things for Ava’s stocking if we have time. I’ll tell the girls we’re leaving.”
It took another five minutes to extract themselves, and then she and Patrick emerged onto the high street.
The cold air slid across her skin, and Sara shivered and buttoned up her coat. “It’s freezing.”
“Yes. More snow coming, I think.” He took off his scarf and wrapped it around her neck. “So where did Imogen go when she ran off earlier?”
“I’m not sure, but she somehow ended up with Miles and Ralph.”
“Ralph? Who is Ralph?” Patrick frowned. “Oh—you mean Jim’s dog?”
“Yes. His sister can’t cope anymore, so Miles is taking him. But for some reason Imogen was with Miles too.”
They strolled along the high street, dodging families and Christmas shoppers.
“You think he picked her up when she was out walking?”
“I’m assuming so. Although why would Imogen climb into a car with a strange man?” Sara hated the idea of that almost as much as she hated the idea of Imogen wandering on her own, upset.
“If she’s been living with Tina, she’s probably pretty street-smart.”
“Yes. She’s tough.” Sara thought about the way Imogen had confronted them. “Anyway, I’m glad they bumped into each other, however it happened. And she has bonded with Ralph too, so that’s good.”
“You don’t think she’s going to drive back to London?”
“No. We had a long talk. Mum told her everything. She didn’t know any of it, Patrick. Tina had told her so many lies.” She stopped walking. “She didn’t remember me. She didn’t remember how much I loved her, or that we were almost inseparable for the first four years of her life.”
He hugged her tightly. “But she’s going to get to know you now.” He eased her away from him and cupped her face in his hands. “You’re upset, aren’t you? Maybe the café isn’t such a great idea. Do you want privacy? We can go and sit in the car, or buy a coffee and drink it by the river?”
The river wound its way through the middle of the village and was a favorite place to walk during the summer months.
“I’m not really upset. Just a bit emotional. The café will be fine.” She needed the warmth. Needed the familiar buzz of the village. But most of all she needed him. “We’ll try and grab a table away from everyone if that’s possible.”
They were lucky and managed to get the best table in the café, nestled on its own in the curve of the window overlooking the high street. The street outside was dusted in snow, and she was transported back to childhood and all the times she and her mother had come to the same café for a treat. She’d treasured that time together, the moments of calm away from the drama created by her sister.
Sara took off her coat and settled herself in the seat by the window while Patrick went to order.
He returned moments later with two mugs of tea and a thick slice of cake.
He sat opposite her, his wide shoulders effectively blocking her from view.
“Perhaps it’s not such a great surprise that Imogen didn’t remember you.” He put a mug of tea in front of her. “She was only four when Tina took her.”
“Yes.” Sara curved her hands around the mug. “The funny thing is she remembered Bunny.”
Patrick smiled. “I was scared it was going to fall apart when I retrieved it from the back of the drawer. That thing is practically an antique. It was clever of you to think of giving it to her. How is your mother? It must have been a pretty horrible day for her too.”
“It was difficult.” Sara stared into her mug. “I’ve always had a bad feeling about her being in touch with Imogen, as you know, but listening to her tell the whole story I realized what an impossible situation it was. When would have been the right time to tell her the truth? Sometimes things just aren’t that clear-cut, and this certainly wasn’t. But now she knows, and although it has been a horrible, hideous day, I feel relieved and I think Mum does too. No more secrets.”
“You look exhausted. You need to eat something.” Patrick pushed the cake toward her. “It can’t have been easy for Imogen, either, discovering that her mother has been lying for all those years. How did she react? Did she believe you?”
“Yes.” Sara took a sip of tea. “I expected her to argue and become defensive, but she didn’t. She had an odd look on her face. It was almost as if she wasn’t surprised by the fact her mother had lied.”
“Maybe she wasn’t. Still, she must have been very upset.”
“She was very upset earlier, which was why she stormed out. But that was partly shock, of course. She saw photographs of Tina and recognized her. Not the best way to discover the truth. We were lucky she ended up with Miles. And Ralph.” She gave a half smile as she thought about it. “You should have seen them. She held on to Ralph the whole time she was listening to the story. Didn’t let go of him once. And he seemed completely besotted with her.”
Patrick smiled. “Sounds as if Ralph is a bit of a hero.”
“Yes. And Miles was brilliant. He asked her if she’d mind taking care of Ralph for a few days while he gets things sorted in the barn. He said he wasn’t ready for a new dog.”
Patrick lifted an eyebrow. “The guy’s a vet. How much more ready can he be?”
“Well, exactly. But he wasn’t doing it for himself. He was doing it for Imogen,” Sara said softly. “I think he could see how much comfort that dog was giving her.”
“Miles is a good guy. Now eat.” Patrick picked up the fork and speared some cake. He held it out to her. “You missed lunch.”
She leaned forward and ate the cake he offered. “Mmm. That’s good.” She took the fork from him and ate half the cake, then pushed the plate back toward him. “You have the rest.”
“I’d rather you ate it.”
“I’ve had enough. I’m not that hungry.”
He watched her for a moment. “You’ve told me a lot about Imogen. Now tell me about you.”
“What about me?”
“How do you feel about the whole thing? I know how much you hate talking about it.”
“I do, and that’s the funny thing. It was difficult of course, but not as difficult as I thought it would be.” She paused. “I’ve spent so much of my life deliberately not giving it space in my life, running away from it, ignoring it. Then I was finally forced to confront it, and I didn’t feel anywhere near as bad as I thought I would. Talking it through with Imogen was almost freeing. As if it was the end of a chapter. Does that make any sense?”
“Yes. And it sounds good.”
Sara took a sip of tea. “I love my life. The life we have built together. And it feels as if Imogen might become part of it. A positive part, rather than the part I’m constantly trying not to look at.”
“And Tina?”
Sara put her mug down. “I used to feel so bad that I wasn’t close to my sister. It felt unnatural somehow. I even blamed myself for some of it. Was I needy? Did I demand too much of my parents’ attention? Was it my fault that she was jealous?”
He sighed. “Sara—”
“I know! But even when you know it’s not your fault, you can still think it. But today when my mother was telling Imogen all of it, I didn’t think any of those things. At some point over the years I’ve stopped thinking of Tina as my sister. Or maybe I’ve lost that idealistic belief that sisters should be close. I don’t know when that happened. The people I love, the people I’m close to, aren’t my sister. And that’s okay.”
“You may not be close to your sister, but you have friends who are as close as family.”
“Yes.” She thought about her exchange with Paul earlier and how much she was looking forward to catching up with them all over the holidays. She knew that in a crisis, she could call on any one of them and they’d drop everything and come to her. And she would do the same for them. She’d come a long way. Further than she’d ever acknowledged. “And now I have a niece. And the girls will have a cousin.” She watched as he finished off the cake. “Imogen is coming with us tomorrow. Is that okay with you? I probably should have checked before I invited her. It was an impulse.”
“It was a good impulse.” He grinned. “Providing we’re not too much for her. If she’s never had experience of family, our Christmas tree trip might be a bit of a shock to the system. We’ll have to try and rein Ava in so she doesn’t scare Imogen back to London.”
“I think Ava may break the ice.”
“And there will be actual ice if it doesn’t stop snowing.” Patrick glanced out of the window. “Can you believe we might have a white Christmas? The kids would love that.”
“The kids?” She tilted her head and looked at her husband. “You wouldn’t like it at all, of course.”
“Me? No. Total pain. I can’t stand snowmen and snowballs, sledding and all those other fun—I mean terrible things.” He narrowed his eyes and a faint smile played around his mouth. “When did we last have a snowball fight?”
“I’m too old to have a snowball fight.” She leaned forward. “I forgot to tell you—Miles and Ralph are also joining us tomorrow.”
“Miles? That’s interesting. Is there something going on do you think?”
“I don’t know. He hasn’t been involved with anyone since Zara, and he only just met Imogen. But he seemed almost protective.”
“Perhaps he was just being kind.”
“Maybe.” It had seemed a little more than that to her. “He’s never come with us to get a tree before. Lissa always chooses his tree and decorates it. She complains that he doesn’t know a fir from a fern.”
Patrick laughed. “He’s not the only one. Do you think Imogen talked to him? Told him everything?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know her well enough to guess. Miles is a pretty good listener, so maybe. Although I get the sense Imogen is very independent and used to surviving on her own. Either way, he’s coming along tomorrow.”
Patrick sat back in his chair. “Whatever else, it promises to be an interesting day. And hopefully it will be a chance to get to know Imogen better.”
“I hope so.” There had been a time when she’d known everything there was to know about Imogen. She’d been able to interpret every cry and every laugh. But now Imogen was an adult, and Sara hadn’t been part of her life for a long time. She’d had experiences Sara knew nothing about. She had hopes and dreams that she’d never shared with Sara.
She would need to get to know her all over again.