by Sarah Morgan
Clare started to wash her hair, and then let him take over. “Did you see Izzy’s face when she came back last night?” His hands were gentle and soothing and she closed her eyes. The sex was good, but so was this. “I think she’d been crying. I feel bad for her.”
“I feel bad for Flora.” Todd turned off the water and handed her a towel. “You didn’t say much to her, Clare.”
She felt a twinge of guilt. “You know I’m shy.”
“Are you sure that’s what it was?”
His question forced her to face an uncomfortable possibility. Had she been using shyness as an excuse?
With anyone else she would have made excuses. “No.” She forced herself to admit it. “It was probably more than that. It felt difficult, Todd. My tongue was in a knot. I kept thinking about Becca. You know I’m not good with strangers at the best of times, and Flora—”
“It’s awkward, I get it, but sweetheart it’s pretty damn awkward for her, too.”
“Yes.” And now she felt bad that she’d been focusing on herself and not Flora. “I’ll try harder.” She rubbed her hair with the towel and then styled it roughly with her fingers.
“It must be hard seeing Jack with someone else. All I’m saying is that I don’t think it’s easy for her, either.”
Guilt slid through her. “I promise I’ll try to be more chatty.” She smoothed sunscreen onto her bare arms, thinking about the night before. “I didn’t expect her to jump to Izzy’s defense like that. I think Flora was genuinely concerned for her, don’t you?”
“Yes, but I can see why it’s hard on Izzy.” Todd moved round their bedroom with swift efficiency, dressing quickly and retrieving his keys and phone from the jacket he’d worn the day before.
“I’ve never known her to have a meltdown like that. What would you do if Aiden suddenly announced he didn’t want to go to medical school?”
“I’d think about all the money we’d save on fees. I’d book a round the world cruise.” His sense of humor sometimes drove her insane.
“You would not.”
“All right, maybe I wouldn’t. Cruising isn’t for me. I’d sit him down and have a father and son talk. There’d be lots of frowning and serious expressions. I might pound my fist on the table.”
“You’ve never pounded your fist in your life.”
“There’s always a first time. I’d want to know why he’d changed his mind.” His hair was still spiky and damp from his second shower and she thought to herself that he looked almost the same as when she’d met him twenty years before.
“Exactly.”
“Are you making some point here? Because I need it underlined.”
“I’m trying to work out why Izzy has changed her mind.”
Todd slid his phone into the pocket of his shorts. “I’m no psychologist, but if you want my opinion, Flora had it just right. She’s had a traumatic year. That kind of thing is bound to shake you up.”
What if it was more than that?
Flora had thought it was more than that. Clare had seen it in her face.
She stared out of the window. Should she try talking to Izzy? “Is anyone downstairs yet? I’m wondering what the atmosphere will be like at breakfast.”
“There’s food involved. Atmosphere’s are always improved by food. And then there’s the fact that dogs and small children are no respecter of atmospheres.” Todd kissed her briefly. “Stop worrying. They’re not casual acquaintances. They’re like family.”
But family didn’t always hold back, did they? If their relationship hadn’t been so close, all the tensions might have stayed beneath the surface.
“I hope you’re right.”
“Put the coffee on. I’ll be down in a minute.”
But it wasn’t Todd who joined her first in the kitchen, it was Flora. Judging from the dark smudges under her eyes she hadn’t had any more sleep than Clare.
She paused in the doorway, saw that only Clare was downstairs and seemed to consider whether she should turn and leave again.
Clare felt terrible. She’d been thinking about herself, and Becca, and all the previous holidays they’d spent here. She’d felt as if she was betraying her friend by having Flora in the house, which made no sense at all now she thought about it. What was she going to do? Bar Jack and the girls from visiting again? Hardly.
She, who had always been so shy as a child and had frequently felt like an outsider, had made Flora feel like an outsider.
She felt ashamed of herself. Her mother would have welcomed a guest into her home regardless of the history or her personal feelings.
“Good morning! Did you sleep? Can I interest you in coffee?” Compensating like mad, Clare filled a mug to the brim and handed it to her. It was all very well deciding to be warm and friendly, but she didn’t know Flora at all. What was she supposed to talk about? She’d never been that good at small talk. Where was Todd? He was never far from the coffeepot in the mornings, but he seemed to have vanished.
She just had to hope that Jack would join them soon. Presumably he and Flora hadn’t shared a room.
Flora took the coffee gratefully. “Thank you. And I’m definitely a coffee drinker. When I start my day at the flower market coffee is the only thing that keeps me going. That and picking up roses by their thorns.”
Flowers! Of course! That was something they had in common.
“Jack says you’re a florist. How wonderful. I can’t think of anything better than working with flowers all day.” She winced as she heard her unnaturally cheerful voice.
To try to find some degree of normality, she busied herself in the kitchen. Whatever mood people were in today after the alcohol and tension of the night before, a good breakfast would surely help, and her kitchen always calmed and soothed her. “You have your own business?” She threw baby tomatoes into a baking tray, tossed them in olive oil and slid them into the oven to roast while she whipped up a bowl of frothy eggs ready for omelets.
“No, nothing so grand. I work for someone else, which means that they can worry about the income and the market.” Flora slid her hands round the mug, warming her hands even though the room wasn’t cold. “That probably sounds sadly unambitious to you.”
“No. I totally get it.” Clare sliced mushrooms until they formed a small heap on the chopping board. “You’re looking at the woman who walked away from what some people thought was one of the most glamorous jobs there is, to live in a forest and focus on my family. Becca never understood it.” The moment she said it she wanted to suck the words back. “I’m so sorry.” Becca, Becca, Becca. What was wrong with her? She seemed to think and talk about her friend more now that she was gone than she had when she was alive.
“Don’t apologize. She was your best friend. I understand that you need to talk about her.”
Flora was a great deal more patient than she would have been in the same position.
“I suppose that with Jack being here—well, it slips out sometimes.”
“I understand. When you lose someone you love, talking about them is a way of keeping them alive. Of remembering them.”
Was that what it was? Was she keeping Becca alive? “It’s just that every summer we—I mean…we’ve never had—”
“—a summer without Becca. I know.” Flora took a sip of coffee and put the mug down carefully.
Clare fumbled for something to say. She was the one who was supposed to make Flora feel better, but so far it had been the other way round. “This must be hard for you, too.”
“Not as hard as it is for all of you. I’m sorry if I’ve made this awkward. I tried to tell Jack it would be difficult, but he wouldn’t listen and if I’m honest I couldn’t stand the idea of not seeing him and the girls for three weeks.”
She cared. Clare could see she cared. And Jack cared, too. He’d been smiling the day before. Happy.
At the funeral there had been a gray tinge to his face that had worried her. Now it had gone.
That tense knot inside her l
oosened.
“I’m glad you came. I’m glad you’re here.” As she said the words she realized that she meant them. “It’s good to see Jack smiling again.”
“He was in a pretty awful state when we first met.” Flora took a breath. “I’m not trying to replace Becca. I hope you don’t think that. I know I couldn’t. She was as close to perfect as a person could get. I’m far from that.”
Clare gaped at her. Was that what she thought? That Becca was perfect? If she hadn’t been so astonished she might have laughed out loud.
“No one is perfect.”
“Becca obviously came close.” Flora gripped the mug. “She ran marathons for charity, built a successful business, and did all that while running a home and being a wife and mother. And friend. Jack says you and Becca were friends from kindergarten. That’s a special relationship. When you know someone for most of your life, you know the real person. Everything about them. You know what they’ve been through, and you understand them. There are very few secrets. You see them the way they really are.”
“True.” But sometimes, Clare wondered, that wasn’t always a good thing.
“Really knowing a person—” Flora blew on her coffee “—that’s a gift, isn’t it? How many of us have a friend we can show our whole selves to and know we’ll still be loved? Usually we feel we have to cover up the bad bits. It’s like wearing makeup. We feel we have to present the very best version of ourselves all the time to be accepted. A real friend doesn’t expect you to be perfect. They forgive your flaws and love you anyway.” Something about her wistful tone made Clare think she’d never had that.
She felt a stab of guilt. She hadn’t forgiven Becca her flaws. Not this time.
A real friend doesn’t expect you to be perfect.
Had she been expecting Becca to be perfect instead of accepting her decisions and choices as part of who she was?
I know you wouldn’t do it, but you’re not me, Becca had said on numerous occasions and Clare had been forced to admit that she was often guilty of making judgments based on her own life experiences. Becca’s experience was vastly different to hers. Clare had been a much loved only child, given whatever she wanted within reason. Becca had never been given anything. She’d worked, and earned, and fought for everything she had.
“You have quite an idealistic view of friendship.” She kept her tone chatty. “What if a friend did something you thought was awful?”
“I suppose it depends on how awful, and how much it conflicts with your values. Hopefully I’d accept it as part of them. And I suppose it depends on the friendship. I’ve never had a friendship like the one you had with Becca. Losing someone who you’d grown up with, and really knew you—that is a terrible loss. Something you can’t replace.”
That was it. That was exactly it.
Flora, who didn’t know her, had instinctively identified the biggest issue for Clare—that she would never find another friend like Becca. Some people went through life picking up friends like dust on a flat surface. Clare wasn’t like that. She had a few friends in the village of course, but nothing like the depth of friendship she’d shared with Becca.
It was true that Becca had really known her. She’d seen, understood and accepted all Clare’s insecurities and been exasperated by many of them. But she’d done the talking in group situations, meaning Clare didn’t have to.
Becca had been a loyal friend from the first day when a group of girls had stolen Clare’s lunch and Becca had launched herself at them and then shared hers.
The memory made her smile. How could she have forgotten that?
It was the first time in a while she’d smiled when she thought of her friend.
The longing to see her again became a physical ache.
Clare tipped mushrooms into the pan and let them sizzle in the oil. “I can’t ever remember a time when Becca wasn’t in my life. Even when she was infuriating, she was still there. I don’t think I’ve quite adjusted. But she wasn’t perfect. Far from it. I don’t want you to think that. She was human, like the rest of us. But she’s gone, and we are learning to live with that. And the important thing is that Jack is happy. How did the two of you meet?”
She listened as Flora told her the story, first out of politeness and then from interest, easily able to imagine Jack looking lost as he tried to choose the perfect gift for his daughter. “Flowers. That’s thoughtful, but Jack always was thoughtful. I’m sure Izzy loved them.” Clare poked at the mushrooms, watching the edges darken and curl. “Do you have family in Manhattan?”
“I was raised by my aunt. My mother died when I was eight. I was just a little older than Molly.”
“I’m sorry.” Clare couldn’t imagine a world without her mother in it, and didn’t want to. Even now, after two decades of marriage and a child of her own, her mother still watched over her and fussed. And even though Clare protested that she was old enough to make her own decisions and her own mistakes, she secretly basked in the knowledge that someone cared so much about her well-being. “You were so young. Were your mother and your aunt close?”
Flora didn’t answer for a moment. “No. They had nothing in common. My aunt was a career woman. She didn’t want marriage or children. Then I came along. She considered it her duty to take me in.”
“Oh Flora—” Clare pictured Aiden or Molly, orphaned, going to live with someone who didn’t want them. It made her feel cold. “That must have been so hard.”
“It was. I knew she didn’t really want me there. I think it made me uncertain about my place in the world generally. I was never very confident. At school, I was never part of the cool crowd. I worked hard at being accepted both at home and at school. I was afraid to be myself.” Flora paused. “Izzy was right about that. Sometimes I do try too hard. And I can’t believe I just told you all that.”
“Well as we’re both being honest here I can tell you that I wasn’t part of the cool crowd either. I was impossibly shy and socially awkward.” She met Flora’s surprised gaze and felt an unexpected connection.
“You?”
“Oh yes.” Clare laughed. “School was pretty much a nightmare for me until the day Becca arrived. My parents weren’t wealthy. I didn’t have the right clothes. I didn’t speak the right way. I didn’t have a pony. But then along came Becca, and after about two days she was the coolest girl in the school.”
“She had wealthy parents and a pony?”
Clare looked at her curiously. Didn’t she know? Had Jack not talked about her at all? “Becca was raised in the foster system. She didn’t know anything about the right clothes or the right way to speak, but she didn’t care. She was so wild, she was cool. The coolest girl in school. She didn’t care about pleasing people.” She scraped the mushrooms into a dish and slid them into the oven to keep warm. “But she had one exceptional talent. She could dance. Other girls did ballet because their parents had signed them up, but Becca did it because she loved to dance. I think she found it to be the purest way of expressing herself. But when she wasn’t dancing, she was disruptive, daring and—”
“—exciting to be around.”
“Yes, I suppose she was sometimes. And sometimes it was stressful being around her.” Clare topped up Flora’s coffee mug, and then did the same with her own. The atmosphere had shifted from stilted to companionable. “She pushed me out of my comfort zone and in turn I think I gave her some of the stability she’d never had. She saw what a family could be.” She’d never talked about Becca like this, not with her mother, not even with Todd. She’d said more to Flora about Becca in the last five minutes than she had to her own family in the past year. To Flora! Who probably couldn’t bear to hear Becca’s name. “I can’t believe I just talked nonstop about the one subject you probably don’t want to talk about.”
“Actually it was helpful. I need to hear about her. It might help me understand the children a little more. They were obviously a perfect family.”
“I’m burning the tomatoes!” Clare sto
od up abruptly, knowing that she needed to end this conversation right now. She whipped the tomatoes out of the oven, and fried bacon until the edges turned crispy.
“Thank you for telling me a little about her.”
“Jack hasn’t done that?”
“No. I think he finds it difficult. If he wanted to talk about her, he’d talk about her.”
Not necessarily, Clare thought. Sometimes men thought that the best way to handle a difficult topic was to ignore it. But who was she to think that was wrong? She knew she tended to chew on things until they were pulp. “Is your aunt still alive?”
“No. She developed dementia a few years ago. She managed to stay at home until the last year.”
“Who cared for her?”
“I did. It was the least I could do. She gave me everything.”
Except love, Clare thought. And now she saw it so clearly. Flora yearned for family. To belong. “And now? You live in the same house?”
“No. Her house was sold to pay for her care. I moved into an apartment. But last month the roof leaked and I had to move out. Jack invited me to stay with him.”
“You’re living with him?” Interesting. Why hadn’t Jack mentioned that?
“Not living with him exactly. It’s a temporary thing until I can find somewhere else. And I’m in the spare room.”
Thinking of her morning with Todd, Clare sent her a womanly smile. “That must be frustrating.”
Flora blushed. “I don’t want to unsettle the girls, or hurt them in any way. Their needs have to take priority.”
Did they?
Clare wondered if she would have been so restrained in the circumstances. “What about you and what you need?”
Flora had inadvertently given her a gift by stripping away all the anger Clare had felt toward Becca. Maybe she could repay the favor.
