by Sarah Morgan
“You don’t leave a man who has done nothing wrong.”
“Doing nothing can be wrong.” Beth slumped in the chair. “I mean he literally does nothing with the girls. He swans in at the end of the day, undoes all my hard work settling them down, enjoys ten minutes of quality time designed to rev their excitement levels to Christmas Eve proportions and then leaves me to calm them down again.”
“You’ve left your husband because the girls are excited to see him at the end of the day?”
“Are you being judgy again? Because if you are, I’m walking out of here right now.”
Posy decided not to point out that her sister wasn’t capable of walking anywhere until some of the alcohol in her system had evaporated. “I’m trying to understand, that’s all. You and Jason seem perfect together. You’re such a solid couple.” And she was horrified. She’d thought Beth was settled and happy. She’d had no idea there was anything wrong. “Does Hannah know? Did you talk to her?”
“You really think I’d turn to Hannah for relationship advice? Her longest relationship is with her laptop. She doesn’t know how it feels to be in love, let alone how it feels to have problems.”
“Well, you should have called me. When did you start feeling unhappy? Did something happen?”
“We had a terrible row.” Beth dropped her head into her hands. “I don’t want another baby.”
“Baby?”
Posy glanced nervously over her shoulder, but the noise levels were back up to normal levels and no one appeared to be paying attention.
Beth lifted her head. “I don’t want it. It feels wrong.” She thumped her head back down in her hands again, just as Aidan arrived with the food.
He looked confused. “If you don’t want the burger, then we can—”
“She wants the burger. Thanks, Aidan.” Posy grabbed the plates from him. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”
“My problem isn’t the burger,” Beth said, her voice muffled, “it’s the baby.”
Aidan froze and Posy felt like dropping her head into her hands alongside her sister.
“Ignore her.” She waved him away and nudged Beth’s arm. “Sit up. I can’t talk to you while your head is in your hands and people are staring.”
“I don’t care if people stare.”
“I do, and I have to live here after you’ve gone. I’m already handling enough gossip. Are you telling me you’re pregnant?”
“Pregnant?” Beth lifted her head. “No, I’m not pregnant. At least, I’d better not be pregnant.”
“Then what—Oh for goodness’ sake.” Posy pushed the coffee across the table. “Drink. The sooner you drink, the sooner you will start making sense.”
Beth took a sip of coffee and then started to talk. It all slid out in a jumble of disjointed statements. Jason wants more kids, I want to go back to work, need to have some time to myself, horrible fight, feel like a terrible mother, maybe Jason will walk out, maybe he’ll kill the girls—
“He is not going to kill the girls. He’s their father! He adores them.” Posy could see now how pale and tired Beth looked and it tugged at her heart. This was her sister and they’d always been close, despite the geographical distance. They didn’t see each other often, but they emailed and talked on Skype. How had she not known how miserable she was?
She ignored the fact that she hadn’t shared her thoughts with her sister, either.
“I meant by accident. What if he forgets to carry Ruby’s inhaler?”
“Then she’ll have an asthma attack, he’ll have to take her to the ER and he will never forget it again. But I don’t think he’s going to forget.”
“When it comes to the kids, I’m the one who thinks of everything.”
“That doesn’t mean he can’t do it if he has to.” She processed what she’d heard. “So Jason wants more kids, but you want to go back to work?”
“Yes. He thinks my day involves getting a manicure and lounging on the sofa with a book.” Beth put the coffee down and picked up her burger. “Do you mind not mentioning any of this to Mom? I’d like to keep it between us. She’s always busy at Christmas. I’m hoping she won’t notice anything is wrong.”
“I think she’s going to notice you’re here without Jason and the girls. Not to mention the small fact that you have no luggage.”
“I’m planning on telling her I’m here early because I wanted to spend quality time with her and help out before the kids arrive. I know how much work we are.”
That was probably true, but Posy knew their mother wasn’t going to fall for that. “Why not be honest?”
Mom, I don’t want to take over the business.
Hypocrite, Posy. Hypocrite.
“I don’t want her to worry. She’s already worried enough about Hannah. Do you want a bite of my burger?”
“Why would I want a bite of your burger? I have my own.”
“Sorry, I’m not used to having food all to myself. At home I have to share everything. Breakfast cereal. Smoothies. You name it. Sharing food is so ingrained I even offered to share my smoked salmon with the guy in the seat next to me on the plane. He probably thought I was insane.”
“I’m sure he thought you were generous.” Posy decided to deal with the issue of their mother later. “Instead of leaving, have you tried explaining to Jason how you feel?”
“Do you really think I’d be here if there was an easier way? He doesn’t get it. That’s why I left him with the girls. But if I know Jason, he’ll call his mom.”
“You love his mom.”
“That’s not the point. It will mean the kids won’t starve or miss ballet, but it will also mean that nothing will have changed.”
“Why do you want to go back to work?”
“Because I’m boring, have no conversation and have forgotten how to do anything except play princesses and fire stations.”
“You’re not boring.” Posy took a mouthful of burger. “Actually, right now you are boring. But normally, you’re not.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m your sister. I’m supposed to tell you the truth. So your plan was to come here alone with no luggage and decide if you want to go back to work?”
“I wanted to try on a life that isn’t mine and see how it fitted. I wanted to order the salmon and the steak.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Hannah flies everywhere first-class. She has this amazing job and an apartment with a view to die for.”
“Which she never sees because she’s always on an airplane.” Posy put her half-eaten burger down. “You seriously envy Hannah?”
“She doesn’t have to answer to anyone. People listen to her and pay her good money for her expertise. She can shop in Bloomingdale’s without having to stop her child touching everything or running away. She never has to share anything. Yes, I envy her. Is that really such a surprise?”
Posy, who had never envied Hannah, was at a loss for words. “You want Hannah’s life?”
“I’d like to have the freedom she has. Does that make sense?”
“Not a lot, but that’s probably because you’re drunk and I’m sober. Eat your burger.”
“I came in from my job interview and he didn’t even ask how it went.” Beth picked the lettuce out of her burger. “We said awful things to each other, and the next thing I was grabbing a cab to the airport. What is wrong with me? Why can’t I just be happy with my life, like you and Hannah?”
Posy shifted uncomfortably. “Everyone questions their life once in a while.”
“You love what you do. My earliest memory is of you climbing. First it was the kitchen table, then the cabinets, and then Dad took you bouldering. Remember that?”
Vague, indistinct memories swirled around Posy’s head. “I think I remember the boulder, but not Dad.”
“I remember because Suzanne was there, and they had a fight.” Beth stared into the fire. “I remember her saying, Rob, you can’t let a three-year-old climb that. It’s dangerous. And he laughed and put you on that rock anyway.”
Posy frowned. “Our mother wasn’t there?”
“Yes, but she thought Dad was some sort of climbing god. If he said something was safe, then it had to be safe. Listen to your father, she used to say.”
It frustrated Posy that she couldn’t remember her parents. All she had was photographs. “Where was Hannah?”
Beth fiddled with her drink. “They left her in the van with her book. Suzanne often stayed with her because she didn’t like the fact that they left her alone. I didn’t think anything of it at the time because it was our normal, but sometimes I look at my girls now and wonder how they could have done that. No way will I be leaving my kids on some lonely campsite when they’re eight years old. The thought of what could have happened makes me cold. I remember Dad hauling you in front of friends and boasting about what an amazing climber you were. You were always Dad’s favorite and he didn’t bother hiding it.”
Posy squirmed. It made her uncomfortable to hear it. “I didn’t apply for that position, I can assure you.”
“It was his fault, not yours. It’s only when you have your own kids you realize what awful parenting it was. I’m careful to treat both girls exactly the same. I don’t ever want them thinking Jason and I favor one of them over the other.” Beth finished her food. “I might have to borrow pajamas from you.”
“Sure.” Posy dug her hand into her pocket and pulled out money. “You can choose between llamas or unicorns.”
“I like my nightwear to be sexy. I should pay for this.”
“I’ve got it.” Posy pushed her way to the bar and handed Aidan the money. “Thanks.”
“Is Beth okay, Posy?”
“She’s fine.”
Aidan glanced over her shoulder and watched Beth stagger to the door. “That’s good. And by the way, I think it’s sisterly of you to stick to coffee, too, because she’s given up alcohol.”
“What makes you think she’s given up alcohol?”
“I heard her talking about the baby.”
Posy closed her eyes briefly. “Aidan—”
“Yes?”
“I’m going to ask you a favor.”
He grinned. “Right. Wow, Posy. I’m a little overwhelmed. You’re very friendly lately.”
“Not that sort of favor. Come closer.” She leaned across the bar and beckoned to him.
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you about to kiss me in public?”
“No. I’m about to whisper something in your ear because I don’t want everyone to hear. Which I know is probably a waste of time because keeping a secret in this village is impossible, but a girl can dream.”
Aidan leaned forward. “What’s the secret?”
“Beth isn’t pregnant and I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t mention that you heard her say the word baby.”
“She’s not pregnant?”
“Not pregnant.”
“So why the coffee? Usually she likes a glass of white wine.”
“Forget what she usually likes.” Posy didn’t want to tell him her sister had already drunk more than enough. “Thanks for the burger and the chat, Aidan.”
“Anytime. And anytime you want to grab me and kiss me, that’s fine, too.”
“You’re right. The customer service here really is outstanding.” She patted him on the cheek. “Good night, Aidan.”
She extracted Beth from a conversation with a group of people she didn’t know and propelled her out of the pub.
Beth lurched unsteadily toward the car. “I’m looking forward to seeing Mom and Dad. Are they in?”
“No. Dad’s giving some talk on mountain survival, and Mom has Knitting Club at the café. And if you want my honest opinion, it might be safer for you to see them tomorrow when you’ve slept off your champagne lifestyle.”
“You could be right. I have a toothbrush, by the way.”
“Good to know.”
“First-class, they give you everything you need. Except pajamas, of course. And a new life.”
“You don’t need a new life.” Posy bundled her sister into the car and leaned across to fasten the seat belt. “All you need to do is reshape the old one.”
“Can I raid your wardrobe?”
“You always say my wardrobe is an abomination.”
“It suits your lifestyle.”
“Insulting someone isn’t generally the best way to ask a favor.” Posy started the engine. “As long as you’re not expecting couture, I’m sure we can kit you out. Mom will have knitted you a sweater for Christmas. You could open that early.”
Beth pulled a face. “Is it the itchy, scratchy variety?”
“People pay a fortune for her sweaters, and no, I don’t think she’s knitting itchy, scratchy at the moment.”
“Any smiling reindeer? Delirious-looking Santas?”
“She hasn’t knitted that kind of thing for at least two decades. Her knitwear is gorgeous. Last time I looked, she was making something in a soft purple cashmere.” She drove out of the pub car park, taking care because the roads were icy.
“Remember the year she knitted us matching snowman sweaters?”
“Yeah. Hannah put hers on the goat because she was worried it was going to be cold.” Posy wondered if those early Christmases were really as trouble free as she remembered or whether it was simply that she hadn’t been aware of the tensions when she was younger.
“It was a good year. You’re right. I should probably talk to Mom.” Beth leaned her head back against the seat. “I don’t know what I want, but I do know what I don’t want.”
“Llama pajamas?”
“No.” Beth stared out of the window. “I don’t want another baby. But Jason does, which means we’re in trouble.”
11
Suzanne
Suzanne sat at the table with her friends, listening to the gentle hum of conversation and the rhythmic clack of needles.
The café was closed, but it felt as warm and lively as it did during the day. If anything, the atmosphere was more intimate, because this was a gathering of friends, not strangers.
Her fairy lights were strung around the windows and the glow of the wood burner in the corner gave the place a warm, festive feel.
Suzanne knew it wasn’t the atmosphere that offered comfort, as much as the friendship.
“Those blue hats are selling well, Rhonda. I can’t keep them on the shelf.” She reached for another ball of yarn, checking as she did so that everyone in the group had drinks and food.
On the evenings when she ran her craft sessions, she and Posy pushed the tables together to form one large one, a setup that allowed for chat and companionship.
“It’s because the weather has turned so cold. I’ll have another twenty for you by Friday.”
“You’re a wonder.”
“It’s given me something to do while the weather has been so bad,” Rhonda said, “and you’re the wonder, giving us somewhere to sell our goods. You’ve turned this place into a destination. I almost died when I walked past on Saturday and saw the coach in the car park. How many people descended on you?”
“Forty-five. They were Americans, on a tour of Scotland. I had to bring a few extra chairs in and we ran out of shortbread, but we managed.” She never minded being surrounded by people. The more the merrier. “Fortunately, they called in advance.”
“You’re part of a tour itinerary now?”
“It seems so, which is good because they bought out the place. Cleared me out of everything tartan, spent a fortune in the café and bought a ton of secondhand books, especially those Highland romances that have a half-naked man in a kil
t on the front.”
“I’d love to see a man striding around bare-chested in the middle of a Highland winter.” Maggie had the dirtiest laugh Suzanne had ever heard.
They’d met the first week Suzanne and Stewart had arrived at Glensay.
Before she married Stewart, Suzanne had never lived in one place for more than a few months. She’d trained as a mountain guide. She’d lived in tents and vans, and traveled.
And then everything had changed.
She had a promise to keep and three grieving children to care for.
No more roaming the mountains and sleeping in a tent or the back of a truck. No more dining on dry ramen noodles and washing her clothes in a mountain stream. She had to create a home, something she’d never done.
You don’t have to change your whole life, Suzanne.
Suzanne had wanted to.
The life she’d chosen didn’t fit with having kids. It might have worked for Cheryl, but it didn’t work for her.
She couldn’t give the girls their parents back, but she could give them consistency and stability.
There had been times when she’d wondered whether Stewart’s love for her would be strong enough to withstand this new, unforeseen pressure on their relationship, but he’d handled it the same way he weathered storms on the mountains—with quiet calm.
Suzanne had readily agreed to move from Washington State to Scotland, where they would at least be close to Stewart’s family. To begin with, they’d rented a small cottage a mile outside Glensay village, where Stewart’s parents owned a small café.
With his skills as a climber and mountain guide, Stewart was immediately in demand and he went to work at the Glensay Adventure Centre, while Suzanne did what she could to furnish their home on a shoestring budget. While Stewart was out in the fresh air, she taught herself to cook something that wasn’t dried rations and picked up bargains to make their small rental property cozy.
She’d felt out of her depth and hopelessly ill equipped to handle the challenge that lay ahead. Most people had nine months of pregnancy to prepare themselves for motherhood. She’d woken up one day and found herself responsible for three children of different ages, with no instruction manual.
