Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
Malcolm walked Sorrel to the car, where Heather was waiting. She looked up from her phone as they approached, winding down the window.
‘Okay?’ she asked her sister, caution on her sweet features. Sorrel nodded, wondering if Heather was primed to leap out of the Land Rover and grab the shotgun from the back seat.
‘I’m fine. This is Malcolm.’ Sorrel looked at her biological father. ‘This is my sister, Heather.’
Heather got out of the car and shook Malcolm’s hand.
‘Hello. We saw you at the café,’ she said, brightly.
‘Yes. I’m sorry that I didn’t come and introduce myself. I was… a bit nervous, I suppose.’ Malcolm looked evasive. ‘Lots of feelings.’
‘Yes, I felt that.’ Heather nodded. ‘But you’ve cleared the air a little between you now, it seems.’
‘I think so. Begun to, at least.’ Malcolm nodded at Sorrel; she wasn’t sure if he was going to kiss her on the cheek, but he put his hands in his pockets and stood there awkwardly. ‘You have my number now. And you know where I am. Stay in touch, Sorrel.’
‘I will.’ She got into the car. Heather wound up her window, and Malcolm went back inside.
‘Goodness. I feel as though you have a lot to tell me,’ Heather said as she pulled out of the car park. ‘I have to warn you that the group chat is a little… divided about all of this, by the way.’
‘About all of what?’ Sorrel asked, as they started to drive back towards Portree. ‘Me?’
‘Yes. I mean, you have to accept that it’s pretty major news.’ Heather frowned at the road ahead.
‘I know it is… why, what are people saying? Divided, how?’
‘Umm. Well, I support you. You know that. And so do Primrose and Bloss.’
Sorrel turned to look at her sister. ‘Okay… which infers that Violet and Bluebell have a problem with it.’
‘I wouldn’t say they have a problem with it.
More, they’re just… uncomfortable with it all, I guess?
And we all feel our different ways about Mum and Dad.
I added you to the chat after you shared your story with us all, because I thought it was unfair that everyone’s responses and thoughts were going on without you there. I hope that was all right.’
Sorrel had seen that Heather had added her to the sisters’ group chat on a messaging app, but, if she was being honest with herself, she’d been avoiding the chat. The messages kept pinging: she’d turned notifications off. There were over a hundred unread.
‘I see.’ Sorrel sighed. ‘And presumably, you told them all about what I just did?’
‘You didn’t say I couldn’t.’ Heather gave Sorrel an apologetic smile. ‘Sorry.’
Sorrel opened the chat, steeling herself.
Violet: It’s all very well to say ‘support Sorrel’. I do. I love her, she’s my sister. But where was she when we all needed support?
Blossom: Don’t be mean @Violet. You can’t blame Sorrel. No one is to blame here, not even Mum and Dad. If you had children you’d understand.
Violet: What’s that supposed to mean? @Blossom
Blossom: What it said @Violet As a parent I can see this from both sides. You don’t understand either what Sorrel must be feeling or why Mum and Dad made the decisions they did.
Blossom: @Violet I’m not defending it, I’m just saying I understand.
Violet: Please do not shame me for not falling into the trap of motherhood @Blossom. I know you love it. But it’s not for everyone. And I do have empathy, thank you.
Primrose: @Violet No one’s shaming you, for god’s sake. This isn’t about you. Get over yourself
Violet: Nice, thanks @Primrose Don’t blame me that I’m out here earning ￡￡￡ in the sun going to parties and you’re breathing in teen boy stank 8 hrs a day in the drama studio
Primrose: @Violet Yeah I’d love to be felt up by sixty-year-olds at dodgy clubs and pretend to orgasm over lip balm for a living, 10/10 no notes
Heather: Can you all just stop fighting? This is upsetting. Why can’t we all just get on?
Violet: The Emotion Police have arrived
Primrose: @Violet Stop acting like you’re such a badass when we all know you didn’t get out of bed for a month when Eduardo left you.
Bluebell: Am I the only one who is really sad about all of this? I feel betrayed.
‘Oh dear.’ Sorrel looked up from her phone. ‘This isn’t good.’
‘No.’ Heather sighed. ‘But I suppose it’s to be expected. From Violet, especially. But I know her well enough to know that she’s really sad about all this. You know that she lashes out when she’s hurt.’
‘Well… yes, I do.’ Sorrel let out a long breath.
Violet had a sharp tongue if she felt cornered or attacked, but she was also one of the most caring people Sorrel had ever known.
Violet was the one who would bring you soup when you were ill, but not tell anyone that she did it.
Violet was the one who never forgot a confidence, never forgot a favour and always repaid them.
Bluebell’s message had hurt the most to read, though.
Sorrel had always had a close bond with her youngest sister.
Bluebell was the one who was hurting the most, it seemed.
Sorrel scrolled down to the most recent messages.
Heather: @Sorrel and I came out to meet her biological father. She’s talking to him now.
Blossom: WHAT??!
Primrose: WHATTTT?!
Bluebell: Maybe we aren’t enough for her any more
Blossom: @Bluebell That’s not what’s happening here, sweetheart
Violet: Well, that’s a new development…
Blossom: Is @Sorrel on this chat?
Heather: Yes, I added her
Blossom: @Sorrel I wish you’d communicate better with us, i.e. at all, would be nice. This is really important stuff. We want to be here to support you
Violet: Right @Blossom but I’m worried about her bringing some stranger into our lives. Do we know anything about this man?
Heather: @Violet He works at the archery centre outside Portree. I’m in the car park now.
Primrose: @Violet What do you think he’s going to do? We’re all adults, he can hardly kidnap us
Violet: @Primrose. You must have seen those true crime shows. He could be a psycho. Probs why Mum didn’t want anything to do with him
Primrose: @Violet I don’t even know where to start with that.
Sorrel put the phone down, making a face.
‘It would help if Mum would speak to us. But she’s hiding out. Literally and metaphorically.’ Heather gave way to a large farm truck. ‘I’ve asked her to talk to all of us, but she won’t. You know how she is.’
‘She’s not going to be happy that I met with Malcolm, I guess.’ Sorrel stared down at Catriona’s text. ‘But I have to tell her.’
‘You and Mum need to have a proper chat.’ Heather nodded. ‘Get everything out in the open.’
‘I know. I’m just not looking forward to it.’ Sorrel sighed.
When they got back to the caravan, Sorrel found Bluebell sitting on a dilapidated wooden bench at the end of the Inn’s lovely garden, sketching a robin.
‘Hello.’ Sorrel approached her youngest sister cautiously.
‘Hello.’ Bluebell looked up briefly, and then went back to her drawing. It was mid-afternoon and the sun had passed to the west, on its slow way back to the horizon. For now, it glinted on the waters of the loch, which were just visible through the trees in the distance.
‘Am I interrupting?’ Sorrel asked.
‘Kind of.’ Bluebell continued shading in the bird’s feathers.
‘That’s really good. I used to love all the drawings you did for our stories. Do you remember those?’ Sorrel perched on the bench next to her sister.
‘Of course I remember,’ Bluebell replied, shortly.
‘Do you still have them? I’d love to see.’
‘I’m sure you would,’ Bluebell replied.
Okay… this is going to be tough.
‘So, you know that I met my biological father today,’ Sorrel began, her heart pounding with nerves.
Bluebell’s opinion meant so much to her, and she desperately wanted them to be friends.
‘It was a bit out of the blue, but Aunt Joan gave me some information and… I dunno. I decided to go over there. Heather took me.’
‘Good old Heather.’ Bluebell rolled her eyes.
‘Blue. Whatever you think about all this, it doesn’t mean I don’t love you. You’re still my sister. I still love you. This is… I guess it’s just part of my story that I have to discover for myself.’
‘Great. Enjoy.’ Bluebell picked up her drawing and walked away to the end of the garden. Sorrel followed her, not knowing what to say.
‘Bluebell. Please talk to me.’
‘No.’ Her sister got to Catriona’s rose bushes at the end of the garden and turned to face Sorrel.
‘No?’
‘No.’ Bluebell crossed her arms over her chest. ‘You didn’t talk to me for ten years, even though I never stopped trying. See how you like it.’
She walked past her older sister, handing her the sketch of the robin as she did so.
‘Here. Since you like my drawing so much. Have it. I don’t care any more,’ she said, storming off towards the caravan.
‘Blue…’ Sorrel called after her, but Bluebell didn’t turn back.
Well, that went well, Sorrel thought.