by Sarah Morgan
“But Hannah is expecting me.”
Posy smiled. “Then she’s going to be pleasantly surprised to see her baby sister.”
Oh God, Beth thought. How could she have possibly thought that coming home early might be relaxing? And how was she going to develop a knockout campaign while she was serving shortbread and gingerbread men?
13
Hannah
Hannah hovered in the doorway of arrivals.
People flowed past her, haste making them clumsy and careless. She was bruised by elbows and stabbed by the corners of sharp parcels. Gritting her teeth, she moved closer to the glass for protection.
She felt vulnerable and not up to the challenge of handling Suzanne. The journey home would be punctuated by a cheery stream of well-meaning chat, which would exclude all the questions Suzanne was desperate to ask.
Hannah knew there would be things she was expected to say, and she wouldn’t be able to say any of them.
If she was lucky, Stewart would be home early. His steady presence seemed to calm Suzanne and Hannah had always found him easy to be around.
It crossed her mind that he might be the one to talk to about what was happening in her life.
She’d switched her phone on after the flight and found a message from Adam.
Call me. Let me know how your sister is.
What had possessed her to lie to him?
The airport was busy and she was wondering if she should call Suzanne to get an idea of how far away she was, when a familiar car swerved into a space.
Hannah picked up her two suitcases and her laptop bag and braved the howling wind, but it wasn’t Suzanne who sprang out of the driver’s seat, it was Posy.
Her sister wore faded jeans and hiking boots. Her outdoor jacket was a zingy shade of blue and unzipped, as if she’d been in too much of a hurry to fasten it. Everything about her screamed energy. The way she walked, the way she smiled, the way she turned her head. Even her ponytail swung with enthusiasm. She wasn’t capable of strolling anywhere.
She wore no makeup, but her cheeks were pink and her hair, a rich chocolate brown, gleamed as if it had been polished. She could have appeared in an advert for multivitamins or wholesome breakfast cereal. Looking at her made Hannah feel pale and unhealthy. Did she ever look that vibrant and full of life? The answer was no, at least not without considerable help from expensive cosmetics.
“Well, if it isn’t my prodigal sister.” Posy stepped forward and hugged her.
The hug took Hannah by surprise.
She felt the soft brush of her sister’s hair against her cheek, breathed in the smell of fresh lemons. Something fluttered in her chest, an emotion she hadn’t felt in a long time.
The cold chill that had gripped her for the past couple of weeks melted under the warmth, taking with it another layer of her carefully erected defenses.
That felt so scary that she stepped back and promptly planted her soft suede boots into a slushy puddle.
Icy meltwater seeped through the inadequate fabric.
It said a lot about her need to avoid intimacy that she was willing to sacrifice an expensive pair of boots and possibly a couple of toes to frostbite.
“I was expecting Suzanne.”
“She has a stall at one of the Christmas markets today. You got me instead. I think I’m the jackpot, but I could be biased.”
Hannah wished she hadn’t been in so much haste to pull away from the hug, which made no sense.
You couldn’t reject love one minute and then want it the next.
Fortunately, her sister didn’t seem to have noticed anything strange or different about Hannah.
“Be careful with the suitcases. The blue one is new.”
Posy straightened, and wisps of hair slid around her flushed cheeks. “If you’re going to complain, you can haul your own luggage. And there’s plenty of it. You don’t travel light, do you?”
“The house isn’t usually that warm. I brought extra clothes.”
“It’s warm enough if you’re working.” Posy swept up the luggage and flung it into the car. “Providing you don’t sit around, you won’t feel the cold.”
Already they were sniping at each other. That, at least, felt familiar.
No matter that she was on her way to the top of her profession, her youngest sister always made her feel inadequate, as if all the skills she had amounted to nothing. “I’ve been here less than two minutes, so do you think you could give me a break?” Depression settled on Hannah like a fine mist of rain, slowly seeping through her remaining layers of protection. “I’m sorry. And I’m grateful for the ride.”
“You’re welcome. I’m sorry, too.” Posy gave a quick smile. “I’m hoping it’s my massive Christmas gift that’s straining the edges of your suitcase.”
Hannah stepped into the car and slammed the door shut, relieved to be insulated from the chaos of the airport even though she knew all her problems were sealed in the car with her.
Expensive Christmas gifts she could manage. Handing over her credit card was the easy part, although in fact the weight of her suitcase could mostly be attributed to the books she carried with her when she traveled. Sometimes she could find room for only one or two, but for this trip she’d sacrificed clothes to make room for six of her favorites.
It was like traveling with friends. Simply knowing they were there made her feel better. Later she’d turn to them, lean on them as she always had, seeking comfort in the worlds hidden between their pages.
She watched as a couple hurried toward a taxi, juggling cases, parcels and two young children.
Home for Christmas.
Most people found the concept comforting and soothing. Hannah wasn’t one of them.
Posy opened the driver’s door, letting in a blast of ice-cold air. “Why the dark glasses? You’re in the Highlands, not Hollywood.”
It said a lot about their relationship that her sister assumed the glasses were for anonymity, rather than to conceal the fact that Hannah felt beaten.
Posy didn’t know the details of her life, and whose fault was that? Hannah had allowed misconceptions to stack up like bricks in a wall, cutting her off from other people.
“You’re stressed. I’m sure the last thing you needed was to pick your sister up from the airport. I would have taken a cab, but last time I did that Suzanne was upset.”
“You mean Mom.” Posy leaned on her horn as someone pulled out in front of her. “And I’m not stressed. She’s thrilled you’re home for Christmas. I’m glad you came.”
Hannah knew her sister’s words were driven by her love for Suzanne. She envied her sister’s ability to love so fearlessly and completely. Posy handled love the same way she would handle a difficult rock face—boldly, and without fear of falling.
For Hannah, it was a true demonstration of bravery.
It made her feel cowardly.
She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes, but doing so made her think of Adam and that made her feel even more cowardly. She opened them again. “Tell me how everything is. I feel out of touch.”
“An email or a phone call would help with that.” Posy’s hands tightened on the wheel. “Sorry. Ignore me. Too much to do, too little time—you know how it is. Update. Right. Dad’s busy. The Adventure Centre is doing well. Martha stopped laying for a while, but I can’t imagine you’re going to lose sleep over that. Mom’s business is thriving. The café is insanely busy, but that’s good, too. Bonnie and I have been busy with the mountain rescue team and I’ve been doing a lot of ice climbing. I think that about covers it.”
“Ice climbing?” Hannah shivered and pulled the edges of her coat closer together. The fabric was damp and cold. “I hope you’re careful.”
“Now you sound like Mom.”
“How is she?”
“No
t bad, considering. This is always a difficult time of year for her.”
“Yes.” Hannah’s stomach did a strange roll. It was a difficult time of year for her, too. In the distance she could see snow-covered mountains and for a moment she wished she’d stayed in Manhattan. She could have made some excuse and hidden away in her apartment. She didn’t have to put herself through this. Mountains made her conscious of her failures and frailties. As a child, she’d wondered what was missing in her that she couldn’t feel the same passion for climbing her parents did. Whatever it was she’d lacked had meant she was excluded from the club that contained all the people she loved.
“She still has nightmares.” Posy glanced in her mirror and checked the road. “Twenty-five years and she still has them. I don’t understand that.”
Hannah understood it.
Hannah had her own nightmares, although she was sure hers were different from Suzanne’s.
“It’s the time of year.” She hoped her sister didn’t intend to linger on this particular topic of conversation.
Posy drove confidently, her eyes fixed on the road. “Didn’t expect to see you home this early. Something happen?”
I think I might be pregnant.
“I had a window in my schedule.”
“That’s a relief, because I’m not sure I could handle two sisters having a crisis simultaneously.”
“Two sisters?”
“Beth is home.”
“Oh.” So no time to pull herself together before having to handle her nieces. On the other hand, if Beth was home early, maybe Hannah could enlist her help in tracking down a pregnancy test. “I thought they weren’t arriving for a few more days.”
“It was spontaneous. She didn’t mention any of this to you?”
“When would she? We’re both busy. Beth and I aren’t exactly falling over each other every day, you know.” Guilt was a constant background hum in her life, but occasionally it exploded out of control. Like now, when she was reminded just how bad she was at keeping her fingers on the pulse of her family. If there had been a change in rhythm, she wouldn’t have known about it.
Posy glanced at her. “It was a simple question. No need to overreact.”
She was overreacting to everything these days. It was an uncomfortable experience. “How can Beth be home early? Isn’t Jason working?”
“He’s not with her. Nor are the kids. She wanted some time on her own.”
“She’s having a crisis?”
Was that why Beth had called? Because she was in trouble?
Hannah’s guilt intensified. She’d assumed the call was to confirm dinner. It hadn’t occurred to her something might be wrong.
She cast her mind back to the conversation, searching for clues, but all she could remember was the fact that Adam had strolled onto the plane and she’d tried to finish the call as fast as possible to avoid the different parts of her life colliding.
“Do you know what’s wrong?”
Posy hesitated. “You should probably ask her yourself.”
She was the last person to advise anyone on their personal problems, and she could hardly ask for Beth’s support when she’d been so bad at offering any herself.
She made a decision. “Posy, could we stop at a pharmacy?”
Posy frowned. “Are you sick? Champagne headache? I have something for that back home.”
“I’m not sick.”
“Then—”
“I need to buy a pregnancy test.”
“You’re pregnant?” Posy slammed her foot on the brake and Hannah was grateful for the seat belt.
“I don’t know. That’s why I need the test.”
“Right.” Posy stared straight ahead, her hands still gripping the wheel. “Well—let me think.”
“What is there to think about?”
“A place where we can buy a pregnancy test without the whole of the village knowing. Why didn’t you buy one in the airport?”
Hannah sighed. “I tried. They’d sold out.”
“They don’t sell pregnancy tests in Manhattan?”
Hannah turned her head and stared out of the window. “I’ve been putting it off. I’m probably not pregnant. I don’t feel sick or anything.”
“But you’re late.”
“Yes.”
“And—you’ve been seeing someone?”
Hannah turned her head to look at her sister. “Did no one ever tell you the facts of life?”
“Sorry. Of course you’ve been seeing someone. Got a little carried away there with the whole donkey-in-a-stable, Christmas theme.” Posy turned the car round and headed back in the direction they’d come from. “There’s a pharmacy not far from here. Do you want me to go in for you?”
Hannah was touched by the offer. “Thanks, but I’ll do it. At least that way if we bump into someone we know, it won’t start a rumor you’re pregnant.” All the same, she felt awkward and conspicuous as she picked up the test and paid for it.
If she did this, there would be no more denial.
She’d know, and she’d have to decide what to do.
She kept her sunglasses on and felt faintly ridiculous.
As she slipped the test into her bag, she felt sick for the first time.
Posy drove back toward the village, but now the atmosphere in the car had changed. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Okay.” There was a pause. “I mean, you don’t look exactly happy, so I just wanted you to know that you can always—”
“I’m fine, but thanks.”
“Right.”
Posy turned off the main road onto the narrow lane that led to Glensay Lodge. They bumped their way over ruts and potholes and finally pulled up in the yard.
The house was exactly as Hannah remembered it, framed by dramatic peaks and forest. Originally a Victorian hunting lodge, it had been refurbished by the family who had owned it before Suzanne and Stewart. Everything had been updated and modernized, apart from the wireless broadband and phone signal, which, because of the surrounding topography, appeared as randomly as the sun.
In summer, the slopes behind the house were a sea of purple heather, but winter had coated them with deep layers of snow. There was both a beauty and a bleakness to the landscape. Hannah knew that was part of the attraction for many people. If you wanted to escape from the modern world, this was the place to come.
She slid her sunglasses into her bag and stepped out of the car, gasping as an icy wind punched her. The cold found the cracks in her clothing and took advantage of her wet feet. The ground was frozen and she felt her boots slide. It was almost as if the place was sending a warning. You don’t belong here.
“Let’s get you inside. You’re not dressed for the weather. And don’t slip on the ice, just in case you are...you know...” Posy dumped a suitcase by her feet and then paused. “What happened to your face?”
“My face?” Her sister looked so shocked Hannah almost reached for a mirror to check for herself.
“Have you been crying? Is that why you were wearing sunglasses?”
“What? No, of course not.”
“Your eyes are red.”
She had been crying, but it had been hours ago, when she’d hidden her face under the thin, scratchy airline blanket. “It was a long flight. I’ve been working hard. It could be allergies. And I’ve had a cold.” She shouldn’t have offered up so many explanations. One would have been enough. Four smacked of desperate. It seemed Posy thought so, too, because she studied her for a long minute.
“If you’re upset—”
“I’m not.”
Posy hesitated, as if she wanted to say something more. “Okay, well, let’s get these cases indoors. I’ll carry them. You shouldn’t be lifting, just in case—and I’m sorry I can’t hang around, but I need to
get back to the café.”
Hannah was relieved to have time to herself. The first thing she intended to do was apply layers of makeup. Just because she was falling apart on the inside, didn’t mean it had to show on the outside. Camouflaging her real self was a big part of her life.
“There’s soup in the fridge if you’re hungry, and cake in the tin.”
Hannah hadn’t touched sugar for almost a year. She’d hoped her new regime might help her sleep, but it had made no difference. The only time she slept was when Adam stayed over. “I ate on the flight.”
“Then take a nap, or something. You look tired.”
“I don’t sleep well.” Why was she discussing her insomnia issues with her sister?
Posy strode to the door of the lodge, opened it and put Hannah’s cases onto the floor. “Have you tried counting sheep?”
“What?”
“Sheep. You should count them. It’s what people do to help them sleep.”
“I wouldn’t even know how.”
“You could look out of the window,” Posy said. “Plenty of sheep out there just waiting to be counted. You’re in the turret room. Come to think of it, I should take your cases up.” She carried Hannah’s luggage upstairs with no apparent effort and reappeared moments later. “There are fresh logs in the basket, so light a fire if you’re cold. Mom has festooned the place with lights, so try not to electrocute yourself. I’ll see you later, and make sure you water Eric.”
“Eric?”
But Posy had gone, already halfway to her car.
Hannah closed the front door, peeled off her soaking boots.
The slate floor was heated and for a moment she stood still, allowing the warmth to slide into her freezing limbs.
Semi-recovered, she went upstairs to the turret room.
The bedroom had a high, conical ceiling and tall windows that offered a spectacular view of the loch and the mountains beyond. Following the curve of the window was a seat, padded with a nest of soft cushions that invited the occupant to snuggle and relax.
