Chapter 37
Present
The morning had been a bloody nightmare.
Siggy had woken to the sound of that irritating bell being rung by Morwenna Whythe. Her mother was convinced that the awful woman was in fact an undercover agent for the White Book brigade.
‘She’s just testing us,’ her mother said.
‘Testing is one word for it,’ her father shook his head, and he left them to it, the first time she’d ever seen him leave the house without a hearty breakfast.
‘I’ll go.’ Her mother disappeared down the hall, only to return half an hour later panting loudly, with sweat dripping from her brow. ‘She only wanted the chaise longue moved to the other side of the room.’ She collapsed into a chair in the kitchen.
‘You didn’t lift that thing on your own?’ Siggy knew the weight of it well enough. It was Victorian, stuffed out with horse hair and it felt like the weight of a small car. ‘You’ll give yourself a hernia carrying on like that.’
‘I’m alright,’ but she looked flaked. ‘It’ll be worth it.’
‘It better be,’ Siggy said, and she turned over the bacon she was frying for the Buckleys who’d been booked into room nine.
‘I’ve nearly done these breakfasts now, only that couple who booked into room four last night, the…
’ She couldn’t remember their names. ‘No sign of them yet, do they know we finish breakfasts in half an hour?’
‘Not today we don’t,’ Blythe said.
‘But Mum, I have to…’ She had agreed to meet Rae for a walk on the beach.
‘Listen, Siggy, I know, you have more important things to do than help me out here on a Saturday morning…’ Her mother’s voice had taken on that dangerous, slightly higher pitch that normally led to a lecture of some sort.
‘Mum, I’m doing my fair share here. I’ve done four cooked breakfasts while you…’ She stopped because she knew that old girl in number three was driving her mother insane with unreasonable demands.
‘While I what, exactly?’
‘Sorry, I know you’re under pressure, but I promised Rae…’
‘Oh, well, excuse me, a promise to my sister must take precedence over anything I might need.’ She got up, moved towards the hob where Siggy was just removing the bacon for the Buckleys. ‘I’ll take over here, will I? After all, we wouldn’t want to keep you from having fun.’
‘That’s not fair, Mum. I’m only here because you asked me to be here, most of my friends don’t get out of bed until the afternoon on the weekends.’
‘So that’s it, is it?’ Blythe shook her head and Siggy could feel the judgement being layered on her. ‘You want to laze the day away while the rest of us get on with it, is that it? I’m doing this for you, you know. Think about it, Siggy, one day, all of this will be yours…’
‘Dear Lord, Mother, will you listen to yourself?’ The words were out before Siggy could stop them.
‘You’re not doing this for anyone but yourself, or maybe you’re still doing it to somehow get the last laugh on Marcus and Rae, because, it’s fairly obvious to everyone all of this,’ she looked around the kitchen, ‘all of it, was never about making a life for us, it was about something far beyond either Dad or I.’ The words were out, there was no stopping the flow now.
‘Siggy!’ Her mother looked as if she’d been slapped hard across her face. ‘How dare you? What do you know about anything, beyond this cosseted life I’ve made for you?’ Her mother was screaming now, hysterical.
‘I…’ Siggy wanted to come back at her, to say, that was exactly the problem, she knew nothing of life beyond these four walls worth talking about.
‘I’ve done my best to keep you safe from harm. Everything, every single thing has been about saving you from the mistakes I made…’
‘Oh, getting pregnant with me, wasn’t that the greatest mistake,’ Siggy spat at her.
‘After all, it cost you way more than you expected, didn’t it?
’ She stopped to catch her breath, only barely registering her mother’s shocked expression.
‘Yes, Mum, of course I know, you probably spent years regretting me, wishing that you could have the hotel back again, be a Hope Square Girl? Isn’t that what they called you and Rae?
The Hope Square Sisters? Back when the Scotts were somebodies in this backward, bigoted place. ’
‘Siggy, no…’ Her mother looked as if she might cry. But Blythe Carney never cried. It was the worst-kept secret never kept.
Somewhere beyond the kitchen door, a tinkling sound broke through the fetid stalemate.
‘Well, aren’t you going to get that?’ Siggy watched as her mother’s eyes darted desperately between the food cooling on the plates nearby, her daughter’s tear-streaked face and that irritating bell ringing endlessly.
‘We’re not finished here,’ Blythe said as she backed away from Siggy.
‘Oh, but we are, mother, we really are,’ Siggy said and she watched as her mother paused, her hand just touching the doorknob, about to race off to take care of Morwenna Whythe.
Then, in a movement quicker than Siggy ever saw her make, she spun round.
Stalked across the kitchen so she was right up in front of Siggy.
‘Listen to me, if you ever speak to me like that again, I’ll…’ With that the door burst open.
‘Didn’t you hear me? Are you all deaf here?
’ Morwenna stood in the doorway, and never in Siggy’s life had she wanted more to punch someone right smack in the centre of their face.
‘I need a glass of water, I’m going to dehydrate in that room, hasn’t anyone here ever thought of putting AC into the rooms?
’ She turned and walked from the kitchen, completely unaware of what she had interrupted.
‘I’m out of here,’ Siggy said then, pulling off the apron she’d been wearing earlier.
‘Oh, off to your delinquent boyfriend, I suppose?’ It was a taunt and if she wasn’t so shocked that her mother knew about Danial, Siggy would never have risen to it.
‘He’s not a delinquent, he has far more principles than you have, with your talking about people behind their backs and judging everyone before you even give them a chance.’ Siggy was crying now, she was too upset, she couldn’t stop.
‘I have it on good authority that…’
‘If you’re talking about that vile text that’s doing the rounds, I’ve seen it, and I know for a fact that it’s not true.’ She watched as her mother’s complexion drained, and she wondered if perhaps it hadn’t yet reached her circle of friends.
‘The text?’ she said, stepping backwards and dropping into the chair.
‘Yes. Oh, haven’t you received it yet? I thought all you snobs stuck together, I can send it to you, if you’d like…’ She whipped out her phone. But of course, she had deleted the vile thing. Even knowing it was on her phone made her feel as if she was somehow sullied by it.
‘I know the text,’ her mother said slowly. Her words were so measured, they sent a chill right into Siggy’s heart. ‘But what it doesn’t say is that someone saw him do it. Did he tell you that when he was whispering in your ear and turning you against your own mother?’
‘Oh, you’re completely paranoid and – and…’ Siggy stopped, because she knew she shouldn’t say what she was thinking.
‘Go on, you can’t stop there, can you?’
‘You’re truly vile, do you know that?’ Siggy screamed and then she threw the apron on the floor and made for the back door. She needed to get out of there, because honestly, if she had to listen to another word, she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t be the one causing bodily harm.
After she had walked to the village, it felt as if she had completely run out of steam.
She dragged herself down towards the pier where a low wall ran the length of the road opposite the old fishermen’s cottages.
She decided to sit for a minute, just to get her bearings again.
Really, she could hardly think. She’d never fought with her mother like that before, instead, she’d always tried to button up her emotions, tack them down to avoid conflict.
‘Hey,’ a friendly voice pulled her from her thoughts and she looked around to see Danial’s grandmother standing at her back. ‘Oh, no, you’re crying, what’s the matter?’ she bent down but the wall was too low for her to sit on.
‘It’s…’ but the concern in Melissa Val’s eyes only opened the flood gates further and Siggy began to wail.
‘Come on, come with me. Let’s have some tea. Everything is better when you taste my tea.’ And she held out her hand to lead her to the old McDaid cottage.
It took a few minutes to properly orient herself once Melissa showed her into the tiny sitting room.
It was dark, in a comforting way, with walls the colour of African sun, thick tapestries and beautiful urns.
The sofa, a two seater, was covered with a throw that looked as if it had been spun from precious stones, but felt as soft as mohair.
Siggy sat there, while Melissa moved around the kitchen, boiling the kettle and making sounds with cupboard doors, cups and cutlery.
‘Please don’t go to any trouble,’ she called. ‘I’m fine, really, just…’
‘It’s no trouble, we’ll just sit and take a minute and if you want to tell me what’s upset you, fine, but if you just want to pull yourself together, well…’ she placed a tray on the ottoman.
Of course, it all spilled out of Siggy. The argument with her mother. The things they said to each other and now, the guilt she felt for all of it.
‘I think that’s the thing about working in a family business and living at home with your parents, it’s hard to keep perspective on things.
You love your mother very much and I’m sure she loves you, but it’s hard enough to keep things straight when it’s just family.
Throw in a business too and…’ Melissa shrugged as if to say, no one could possibly handle it.
‘You are very lucky to have such a great support system around you.’
‘I know that, and I have Rae as well, which is great – she’s more like a best friend than an aunt most of the time…’
‘But?’