Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
Edith
“ Y ou know, staying buckled in your seat isn’t going to change the fact you have to go in there,” Daisy says as we sit parked outside my father’s driveway.
It’s that dreaded time: the last day of the month where I have the pleasure of his company, which I’d love if it weren’t for his narcissist of a wife.
“I know, but the thought of going in makes me feel sick. I should be used to this shit by now.”
“It’s the unpredictability of Lorna that makes you feel sick. Will she be nice? Will she be sly? But just suck it up, girl. You are better than her.”
My smile doesn’t reach my eyes. She knows how stressed out I get over situations like this. Being out of my comfort zone is not something I enjoy, and I hate that the likes of Lorna takes me there. Nothing ever changes when it comes to her. My legs are like jelly and my stomach is in knots just thinking about walking across the drive. Their large house and expensive furniture are intimidating enough, let alone sitting in the same room as Lorna. I dread these nights, always have, and where I once had moral support from Joel, I don’t anymore.
“God, I wish Fitz was with me.” I sigh, knowing I have to do as Daisy says and suck it up.
“Go on. Get going.” She taps me twice on the leg to make me move. “I’ll pick you up later. Then we will go back home and bitch about her over whiskey and wine.”
“You are the best,” I say.
“I know. Now get out of my car and go kick Lorna in the back of the knees for me.”
I laugh, getting out and considering her request as an option.
“I love you, Peach Bum.” I smile. “Have fun cleaning up your shit at home while I’m stuck here silently crying into my glass.”
“You’ve got this. And I love you, too, Moo Bag.”
She races out of the drive, gathering up a cloud of dust in her wake because she knows it will piss Lorna off.
Taking a deep breath, I knock on the door.
Too many times Lorna has tapped her wicked wand over my head and dusted me with self-doubt and insecurities while speaking highly of everyone else.
As a child, I’d been a typical Cinderella. It had been Lorna’s words I’d fallen victim to, but if she’d been able to get away with me polishing her shoes and mopping the floor, she would have. Anyone who knows me and the life I’ve had with her understands my turmoil.
Everyone but my father because he doesn’t hear half of the shit Lorna throws at me.
“Edith, darling!” My dad beams as he opens the door.
“Hey, Dad.” I step forward and give his thin frame a tight hug, waiting to be welcomed in. Even being allowed to walk through the door on my own accord uninvited had stopped when I left home. Now, I had to ring the bell and wait to be let in like I was a stranger .
“How are you?”
“All the better for seeing you, darling.”
“I’ve missed you,” I whisper in his ear, and he squeezes me a little harder before he pulls back. For a second, it’s like nothing has ever changed. He looks at me with love in his eyes just like he had when I was a little girl and it was just the two of us—where nothing had mattered and we’d believed nothing would change.
I long to have our father / daughter time back, but like everything, it’s been cut with the sharpest knife.
“Edith. You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago.” Lorna’s curt voice slices through our moment, sending a chill down my spine.
“Daisy was late home from work.” I don’t bother to apologise or look in her direction. Instead, I smile at my dad once more before I’m finally welcomed in.
“Have you got a lift home, darling, or would you like me to drive you?” Dad asks.
“I’ve booked Daisy to pick me up at nine.”
And not a minute later.
With them now living between Appletreewick and Skipton town, I got Daisy to drive me because alcohol is a necessity for me tonight.
Taking off my jacket, I hang it over the banister at the bottom of the stairs, knowing it will piss Lorna off. She doesn’t like clutter, so I make sure I spread my shit everywhere when I come here—like kicking off my shoes and leaving them in random places before dropping my bag in the walkway like I’m some teen. I know it’s childish, and I hate for my dad’s sake that I do it, but knowing I get under Lorna’s skin gives me a little kick of satisfaction while I have to breathe and bear the insults.
Just as dad disappears into the kitchen to get the drinks, the first one of the night arrives in the form of Lorna scanning my body in disgust.
“Really, Edith? You could at least have made an effort with your outfit. Jeans and an oversized jumper are hardly dinner wear.”
I look down at myself, loathing the fact she’s making me doubt myself.
“It’s just dinner with you and Dad,” I say.
“Even so. It’s manners, Edith, and you look trashy. I never had to question Sophia’s attire.”
Fire burns in my stomach from her tone of displeasure.
She stands there in her sleek, white blouse and grey, knitted skirt, and I get the urge to pull her thick belt tighter. Her jet-black hair is scraped back into a tight bun at the top of her head, her way of trying to stretch away the wrinkles that gather around her eyes. Her red-painted lipstick has bled at the corners of her mouth, and whoever told her that her foundation was the correct shade for her skin tone was talking shit. Don’t get me wrong, Lorna is an attractive woman, but she doesn’t do herself any favours by plastering her face with makeup in an attempt to look younger.
My inner bitch doesn’t offer to help her out.
She looks me up and down one more time before her eyes narrow. “Have you been overindulging? You look like you’ve put on weight.”
Bitch. I run twenty-five miles a week. What the fuck do you do?
“My weight is fine, thank you,” I say through gritted teeth before heading for the living room, needing Dad to hurry up with those drinks because it appears the insults will be coming thick and fast tonight.
“My Sophia’s frame was flawless.”
I ignore her comment and take a seat on the cream leather sofa that has been polished within an inch of its life, looking around the room that doesn’t resemble home anymore. I don’t remember my mother: she died in childbirth and my dad raised me on his own. All I know is what dad has told me of her and the photos that were once dotted around the house in gold frames.
I’d been six when Lorna got her claws into Dad, weaving her way into his life. It hadn’t been long after that my childhood home was sold and any memories I’d had were gone. After we’d moved into a bigger house that we didn’t need, all those photos of my parents and my mother had been replaced with new ones—ones of dad and Lorna, ones of her and Sophia and those perfect family ones. In reality, we were anything but that.
“Something smells good,” I say.
“I’ve made seafood linguine.” She perches on the edge of the sofa with her back so straight it’s like she’s got a steel rod shoved down her top.
I have to hold back an eye roll at the mention of her meal choice. There’s no hiding the fact it had been one of Sophia’s favourite dishes. Her love for exquisite food had never been something I could get my head around. While she’d been out having lavish dinners with friends from high places, I’d been sitting at home in my loungewear eating cheesy beans and burnt toast, living my best life.
So many times, Joel had walked through my door late at night, frustrated and tired, and raided my food cupboards because the meal he’d been served at the restaurant had been nothing but a mouthful of ingredients he’d never heard of. Sophia had never known he did it, and I’d never said either. They had been some of the only times—before Leon—that I’d got him to myself and I’d cherished them like they were the most precious things in life.
I’d often questioned what Joel and Sophia saw in one another because they’d hardly had anything in common. But I guess that saying opposites attract was right in their case. That and the likes of Lorna breathing down their necks with power, persuasion and pressure.
“Here you go, princess,” Dad says, handing me a large glass of dark rum. One of the things I still have in common with him.
“A princess doesn’t dress in Jeans,” Lorna sneers.
“Lorna,” Dad warns.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“My pleasure, darling. So, tell me, how is work?” He takes a seat beside me, gripping my hand in his with that signature little squeeze.
“Great. The book is constantly full of appointments and the phone is always ring—”
“Edith, please try not to get your drink on the carpet this time. I’ve just had them cleaned,” Lorna interrupts, and I can already tell she is hating the fact I have my father’s attention.
“I’ll try not to, Lorna. But it was an accident.”
The last time I’d been here, I’d accidentally—but somewhat proudly—knocked over my drink. The alcohol in my system had thought it was amusing that her treasured carpet was reeking of whiskey, but her acid tone and deathly stare were what had me standing up and leaving after she’d called me a foolish child.
“Accident or not, I still had to get them cleaned.”
“Honey. Let’s not get yourself worked up over that again,” my dad replies, but the glare from her tells him he’s said too much.
This is literally what my life has been like. I’m the rope to their tug of war and she’ll use any excuse to try and fucking pull it.
Her constantly distorted personality is the biggest head fuck ever: sweetness and delight to others, an absolute bitch to me until she wants something, which is when her charm is pulled out of the bag with the sweetest smile that I can see right through.
“My Sophia was never as clumsy as Edith. She sipped at her drinks like a lady.”
You didn’t see her when she was shitfaced.
“Have you seen much of Joel recently?” Dad asks. “He was snowed under with work the last time I saw him.”
“I see him most days. And he has had a lot of work on of late. But he’s good. He’s doing great.” I smile, unsure myself if my words are true .
“Great. I’ll have to arrange to see him soon. I may have some work his way.”
“I’m sure he’ll love to see you, Dad.”
“It’s about time he stopped spending time with Edith and came back for dinner.”
“Lorna, we’ve discussed this. He just needs a little space,” Dad adds.
“I don’t understand why he needs space. He needs his family. He needs to be around the people who loved Sophia.”
I want to add that his main reason for needing and wanting space is because of the dragon sitting across from me, but I choose to take a mouthful of my whiskey instead.
Lorna adds. “I care about him so much.”
Yet not enough to respect his decision when it comes to Sophia.
“I can assure you he’s doing okay, Lorna,” I say, but she completely blanks my response. That’s the one thing she hates: the fact that even though Joel was married to her daughter, our friendship has always remained strong and that he’s continued to stay in my life after Sophia’s death and not Lorna’s.
“He’s just got a lot on, darling.” My dad smiles.
“I guess you’re right. My Sophia will be proud of all his achievements and hard work. They both took pride in their work.” Lorna smiles, her eyes now locked on her daughter’s wedding photo that takes pride of place on the living room wall. “They were so in love.”
I love him more.
“Nobody saw their love as strongly as I did.”
“We all saw it, Lorna.”
She shoots me a glare. “Coming from the girl who hasn’t been in a relationship long enough to understand what love is.”
“Lorna, enough now.” Dad warns again.
My stomach twists at her comment.
After she’d laughed over my ‘silly little crush’ for Joel, telling me he belonged to Sophia, Lorna had often told me I could never be loved, and I fear she may have been right. I’d never been able to hold a relationship down longer than a few months.
Until Leon.
I’d never thought it was possible to love two people at once, but I tried.
Leon had chewed me up and spat me out like I hadn’t mattered at the worse point in my life, though. What had hurt the most was the fact I’d been so desperate to find the love for him that I’d had for Joel, I’d poured everything I was into the relationship. I’d loved him—I’d loved him as much as my heart would allow—but when I’d found him in my bed, naked with someone else, I’d known his love for me was nothing but disrespect and lies.
And each night when I get in an empty bed, the loneliness I feel is unbearable.
“You know I mean well, Edith.” She smiles, but it’s sly. “Now, I must check on the dinner.”
“Take no notice, sweetheart.” The typical response from Dad would once have had fire burning in my stomach, wanting him to take his words back and fight for me, but now I feel nothing. I’ve become used to the fact my feelings are not a priority anymore as Lorna is very clever in knowing what to say and when to say it.
It takes Lorna all of thirty seconds before she calls my dad into the kitchen to help her, and I’m left on my own with a glass of whisky that I suddenly wish was a fucking bottle.
Getting up from my spot on the sofa, I walk across the long living room to the open double doors of the conservatory like Sophia’s ghostly presence has been calling me. Leaning against the doorframe, that pit of sadness hits my stomach as I look at the endless photographs of my sister that are placed on the large table.
Tealights are dotted around them as the vigil of her is laid out right in front of me. The compassionate side of me does feel for Lorna: she’s lost her daughter in a tragedy that should never have happened, and I can't imagine what it must be like for her because losing a sister has been brutal enough. But Sophia had been put on a pedestal, made out to be the perfect child and wife, when at times she’d been anything but.
I hadn’t been a fly on the wall in hers and Joel’s marriage, but I’m not stupid either. I know him. I know him better than anyone, and I’d seen the hurt in his eyes far too often.
But despite everything, I miss her. I really fucking miss her.
She had been no saint, and at times her mother’s vicious tongue had been replicated in her own words.
I may sound like a jealous bitch because I didn’t get to keep the boy who kissed me all that time ago, but the truth is, when it comes to Sophia, Joel and me, I’ve had years of tangled up feelings and emotions, never knowing which one I should be feeling at any given time.
So, I’ve remained silent.
“Edith, darling. Dinner is ready,” my dad calls, jolting me out of my thoughts.
Downing the rest of my drink, I head into the dining room. The table big enough for eight sits in the middle of the room, two glass chandelier’s hanging above it from the high ceiling. My father sits at the head of the table with Lorna and I sitting on either side of him facing each other.
Her look of disdain is evident when I place my empty glass down on the table, and I inwardly smirk at the huff under her breath when I refuse to use the crisp white napkin that is to the right of me.
“So, Dad, are you excited about retiring? You’re still having a party, right?”
Dad has been a property developer for nearly forty years. He’d built his own company from scratch and will soon be ready to hang up his suit jacket and enjoy country life to the fullest. I’ve never truly understood the difference between Dad’s job and Joel’s but apparently, developers do one thing while architects do another.
“He is, yes. And he is going to have a splendid party. I will make sure of it,” Lorna adds.
“I’m sure you will. Do we have a date yet?”
“Well, we—”
“It’s all in hand. You’ll find out soon enough,” Lorna interrupts.
“Okay, well if you need any help then you—”
“I won’t. As I said, it’s all in hand.”
An awkward silence filters around the table.
Lorna always takes control of anything, so I don’t even know why I offered to begin with. But it’s my dad’s big event—one I know he’s been looking forward to for some time—and for once, I would like to be a part of it as his daughter rather than just a guest in my stepmother’s eyes.
“Actually, there is something you can do.”
I look up at Lorna, pleased that she’s appreciating my offer. “Of course. Anything.”
“The party will be a black-tie event and will require you to bring a plus one. You best start looking now as it may take you a while to find the right candidate to accompany you.”
“I’m sure Edith has plenty of male friends that would love to accompany her, darling.”
My dad chuckles, but the truth is, I don’t. My breath halts and anxiety pools in my stomach, knowing the outcome if I can’t find anyone to go with.
“And if no one is available to attend with me that night?”
Her devious smile makes my skin prickle as she raises her glass as if she’s about to make a toast. “If a candidate cannot be found, I will have to reconsider your attendance at the party.”
Fucking bitch.
My dad wipes his mouth on his napkin. “Lorna, darling. There is no need for that. ”
“I have a number I have to abide by, Gerald. I don’t wish for them to be uneven. You know this.”
“I do. But I’m sure we can break your rules for one night? I’d like our daughter at my party.”
“And your daughter has plenty of time to make sure she has a date.” She smiles sweetly at him before standing to collect the plates.
My dad looks at me and smiles. “Ignore her. Of course you can come. Date or no date you will be there.”
I’m not so sure on that.
She knows damn well that I’ve not got many male friends. There is Daniel, but he has Teddy to look after, and the one person I’d want to go with more than ever doesn’t even come to dinner anymore.
She doesn’t want me there.
And Lorna always finds a way to get what she wants.