Chapter Forty-Two
A silence stretched between them as Flora tried to work out what to say.
Thousands of thoughts were flying through her head and she opened her mouth to say something and then closed it again.
She squeezed her gran’s hand and took a decisive breath.
‘Don’t worry, Gran. It’s okay. We will figure this out together.
If you want to find your sister then I will do my best to help. ’
A flicker of relief crossed Iris’s face and she pressed a hand to her chest. ‘Thank you, dear. I do think it’s time I tried to find her. That’s unless she doesn’t want to be found or it’s too late . . .’
Flora nodded but her mind raced and tumbled with thoughts.
How could she help her gran? Where would they even begin?
And she kept trying to push away the darker but more obvious thought that her gran’s sister may already be dead.
If she was seven years older than Iris that would make her eighty-two.
How would her gran cope if the sister she hadn’t met had passed?
Although it did seem as though her gran was considering that as a possibility.
She watched her as she took a sip of tea and knew she had to try and help.
Even if they couldn’t find her, they had to at least try so she could have some closure at the very least. ‘It must have been a huge shock when you found this out, Gran?’
Iris was clasping and unclasping her hands.
‘It was, especially as my mum died not long after she told me. I was left reeling and decided to let things lie. I was broken-hearted by her death . . . even though we weren’t terribly close.
My mother really never talked about love openly.
’ A gentle smile touched her lips. ‘But my dad was different as was your grandpa. Otherwise, I could have been very wary of love and emotions. I guess that was why I went to the ends to make sure your dad knew he was loved very much.’
Flora nodded, a wave of sadness washing over her.
Although her own parents had brought her up in Scotland, they had moved back to her mother’s native South Africa five years ago.
Yet her gran had never made a big deal of it.
She always told her parents that they must do what was right for them.
Once again, Flora was glad she was here spending this time with her.
Iris had given so much love to her family over the years yet was now living alone.
She wanted to make sure Iris knew how loved she was.
‘Tell me what you’ve got and what you know,’ said Flora gently.
‘Her name and where she was born and the date and I will see what I can find. There has to be something somewhere that will lead us to her.’
Iris nodded and stood up. ‘I’ll go and fetch the tin and show you what I know.’
* * *
Later that night, they sat together at the kitchen table, eating a light supper of salmon with broccoli sautéed in a garlic butter.
‘That was delicious,’ sighed Iris as she finished her last forkful of food. ‘Not bad for someone who claims they can’t cook.’
‘Even I can’t really mess that dish up. It’s very basic.’
‘Well, I enjoyed it,’ said Iris who looked exhausted, her face, pale. She kept covering her mouth to stifle the yawns which were becoming more frequent.
‘Gran, you know you can go to bed. You don’t have to keep fighting it.’ Flora reached for her plate and took it over to the sink, flicking on the hot water and adding a squirt of washing-up liquid.
She nodded. ‘You’re right. I am tired. It always seems to take quite a lot out of me when I start talking about the past.’
Iris had shown Flora the old and worn baby tag and Flora had made some notes of when the baby was born and the names of her parents: Maude and Matthew. She had no idea where to start but had assured her gran that she would give it her very best shot.
‘So, dearie, enough of me and my woes. Before I go to bed, are you going to tell me what you got up to when I was away?’
Flora had her back to her gran and didn’t speak for a moment, instead choosing to buy herself some time by starting the dishes.
She flicked her gaze back to Iris; her gran was looking at her expectantly, with a curved eyebrow.
Did she know something about her and Brodie?
‘Well, we painted your kitchen and . . . I had a drink with Brodie at the inn on Friday night . . .’
Iris clapped her hands together in delight. ‘A date? I knew it,’ she said, now sounding quite revitalised and much more like her usual, cheery self.
Flora shook her head vigorously as she rinsed the plates and stacked them to dry. She carefully dried her hands and went back to sit at the table opposite her gran. ‘It was just a drink,’ she said in protest with a half-smile. And Brodie kissed me. Her cheeks flushed at the memory.
Iris was looking at her much more attentively than just a few minutes ago.
Indeed, she steepled her hands together and fixed her gaze on Flora.
‘Oh Flora, Flora, Flora. That’s why you should grab love when you can, dearie.
And that Brodie . . . well, he’s a wee smasher.
And you’re such a catch. Take it from me, love doesn’t wait around for you to be ready.
Sometimes you have to take a chance. Just don’t let it slip through your fingers, my precious girl. ’
Flora was stunned into silence as she let her gran’s words settle.
Love? Who said anything about love? This was just a casual summer fling.
Absolutely just that. She and Brodie both knew that they were simply making the most of the summer.
She would leave Rowan Bay at the end of August and her normal life, whatever that would look like, would resume.
Flora swallowed hard at how bereft she suddenly felt.
It must be the thought of leaving the village and leaving her gran.
Yet Brodie’s face kept looming large in her mind.
What was that all about? She would just have to make sure they made the most of their time together. Summer fun was in order.