CHAPTER THREE
‘Mint imperial, anyone?’ said Rori, from the back seat of my little rust-bucket car.
‘Ooh, yes, please.’ Skye, in the passenger seat, turned and helped herself from the packet. She turned to me. ‘Open wide. Excuse fingers,’ she instructed, before popping the sweet unceremoniously into my mouth.
‘Thanks.’ I sighed. ‘I do love a mint imperial.’
‘That’s because we were conditioned from an early age to associate them with family days out,’ said Rori.
‘True,’ agreed Skye, turning in her seat. ‘We had some great trips to the zoo and the seaside with Ada when you were little, Rori.’
I had a sudden image of the three of them at the zoo, a six-year-old Rori holding their hands in the middle, dancing about and begging for an ice cream. Rori was the middle child, ten years younger than Skye, and her older sister had been heavily involved in Rori’s upbringing right from the start. Ada was a working single mum and a bit of an eco-warrior in her younger days, prone to disappearing off to a protest somewhere. Skye had provided a measure of domestic stability, making sure Rori ate breakfast, had a clean uniform and was collected from school at home-time. I knew that, as a result, Skye and Rori shared a special bond.
As the youngest, I grew up with just Rori, because by the time I came along, Skye had already flown the nest, first to boarding school and then to London and was on her way to becoming a successful actor.
‘I remember those zoo visits, and there were always mint imperials,’ laughed Rori.
Skye grinned. ‘She still keeps a packet in the car at all times.’
‘How is she, Blossom?’ asked Rori. ‘Still pretending she’s not missing Geoffrey like mad?’
‘Yup,’ I said shortly. ‘She’s putting her usual brave face on it, pretending she’s not bothered, but I think that secretly, she’s really sad. Not that we’re talking much these days. If Ada can’t do me the honour of telling me the truth about who my father is, you can bet I won’t be engaging her in loving mother and daughter conversation any time soon.’
‘I thought Ada said she didn’t know him,’ said Rori gently. ‘That it was a one-night thing and he’d vanished long before she realised she was pregnant?’
‘Yes, well, that’s her story!’
‘Don’t you believe her, then?’ asked Skye, shooting me a worried look.
I sighed. ‘I’m not sure I do. It all sounds a bit fishy to me. Sort of convenient.’ I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Maybe there’s a part of me that hopes she’s lying about not knowing him. Because then there’s always a chance I’ll find out who he is one day.’
I swallowed on the bitter lump in my throat. It had been heart-breaking finally meeting Antonio, the man Ada had always said was my father, only to discover he couldn’t have been... that they’d always been friends and never anything more.
I knew I was in danger of spiralling down into sadness and frustration again, so I took a breath and forced a smile. ‘Anyway. Let’s not spoil the day by talking about all of that. Suffice to say, Ada’s definitely not over Geoffrey. Yesterday, I caught her putting shampoo in the fridge when she was unpacking the shopping.’
‘And she’s still buying Geoffrey’s favourite biscuits,’ said Skye. ‘Even though no one else eats them and they’re piling up in the cupboard.’
‘Which biscuits?’ asked Rori.
‘Rich Tea.’
‘Oh. Not the most exciting snack, then. I’m not surprised they’re being stockpiled.’
I smiled sadly. ‘Geoffrey used to say they were the perfect biscuit for dunking in his tea. It’s funny. He was always so proper about everything else. Shirts had to be ironed with creases in the right places and he drew up daily schedules on his laptop, for everything from putting the bins out to mowing the lawns.’
‘He was very organised,’ agreed Rori. ‘I didn’t get to know him that well but I really liked him.’
I nodded. ‘He had this lovely subtle sense of humour. Honestly, he used to have me in hysterics sometimes, taking the mickey out of politicians. And he was always so kind and patient with Ada, tidying up in the wake of her chaos without a hint of complaint. I always rather liked the fact that he dunked his biscuits and his cups ended up messier than anyone else’s.’ I paused reflectively. ‘I miss Geoffrey.’
‘If you miss him, just think how Ada must be feeling,’ murmured Rori.
‘Well, she treated him like her personal assistant,’ I said shortly. ‘It serves her right.’
‘That’s a bit harsh,’ said Skye.
‘But it’s true. Geoffrey adored the woman. Everyone could see that. He’d still be with her if he hadn’t got totally fed up with her bossing him around and failing to show him any affection.’
‘That’s a product of Ada’s upbringing, though, remember?’ said Skye softly. ‘She had to force herself to toughen up in order to survive what she went through.’
I sighed. ‘That’s true.’ My feelings about Ada were complicated these days. I knew she’d gone through really tough times but the easy banter and affection we’d always taken for granted had completely vanished. After finding out she’d been lying to me all along, I could hardly bear to be in the same room as Ada these days.
It hadn’t been the only dung heap to hit the fan in the past few months.
All three of us were still processing another shocking truth – after Ada revealed to Skye for the first time, the sad and devastating circumstances of Skye’s birth.
Ada had found herself pregnant at the age of sixteen and – rejected by her scandalised parents and thrown out of the house – she’d been forced to find shelter in a barn where she gave birth all alone to her baby girl, Skye.
‘Do you think Geoffrey knew Ada’s sad history?’ asked Rori.
Skye shook her head. ‘I very much doubt it. I mean, the only reason she told me recently was because I suggested I was an unwanted child and I accused her of never really caring about me.’ She looked down. ‘Really, I feel absolutely dreadful every time I think about what I said that time. Because I know now that Ada would have gone to the ends of the earth to keep me, despite the fact she was only sixteen and it must have seemed like the whole world was against her.’
‘Maybe you should have invited her along to the cabin today. To cheer her up,’ said Rori.
‘Well, I’m glad you didn’t,’ I said shortly. ‘There’s still too far much tension between us. It would have spoiled the day for everybody.’ I looked anxiously at Skye then at Rori in the mirror. ‘Changing the subject, you will be nice to Trevor, won’t you?’
Rori laughed. ‘Of course we will.’
‘She’s talking about me.’ Skye grinned. ‘But don’t worry, Blossom, I promise I will be on my very best behaviour. I won’t even ask what his intentions towards you are.’
‘Hmm. Not sure I can trust you. And don’t start smiling goofily at us and forming hearts with your hands, Rori, because we’re just friends, okay?’
‘Friends?’ Skye stared at me doubtfully. ‘I thought you said that last time you were at his for the weekend, you had a lot to drink and then you got comfy on the sofa and you –’
‘Yes, yes,’ I broke in. ‘Damn, I forgot I told you about that. So okay, we’re a little more than friends. But I’m taking it slowly this time. I don’t want to jinx it.’
‘By imagining you’re in love after the second date?’ Skye grinned.
‘Quite,’ I snapped. ‘So just be nice, okay?’
She shrugged. ‘Nice is a bit boring, but all right. I shall talk to him about the weather and compliment him on the colour of his slacks.’
I laughed. ‘He doesn’t wear slacks. He’s not that old. He’s thirty-two next birthday.’
‘I’m just winding you up.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with an eight-year age gap, anyway,’ piped up Rori from the back seat. ‘Until you’re a youngish seventy-two and he’s a crumbly eighty-year-old, of course!’
‘Oh, ha ha!’ I made a face at her in the mirror. ‘Get the map out, Skye. We must be nearing the turn-off by now?’