Daughter by Jane Shemilt

Author:Jane Shemilt [Shemilt, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781405915304
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2014-08-27T21:00:00+00:00

Someone called Dan left the tree. Soph decorated it. Gone to pub.

E and S

The glow of candles on ivy is silvery soft. I’m still standing there, breathing in the green Christmas tree smell, when a low car glides quietly past the window, on the snowy road and turns into the little forecourt. The front door flings open and Theo is there, taller, broader, tanned. I want to weep with relief. As he bends to hug me hard, he smells different, something bitter and expensive. The warmth dissolves some of the hurt from the morning. He pulls back, turning aside.

‘Mum, this is Sam.’

Sam appears older than Theo by several years, taller, more wiry. He looks different from his photo; perhaps it’s the beard. The brown eyes behind his glasses are watchful.

‘Hello, Sam.’

We embrace, awkwardly. Two kisses, one on each cheek, which always catches me out. He gives me a bunch of flowers with a practised little bow. Theo chats about the journey, his recent exhibition, what it feels like to be here at the cottage. He has acquired a trace of an American accent. I stand close to him, listening to his voice rather than his words, then I pull myself together.

‘You must be starving.’

There is the slightest pause.

‘Not really.’ Theo gives me a quick hug. ‘Don’t be cross. We stopped for lunch at the Beach Hut.’

‘But you were so near home.’

‘We didn’t want to trouble you,’ Sam answers smoothly.

Did he need to get up courage before he met me? Does he want to show his power, that he can hold Theo back from us for as long as he wants? My mind touches these thoughts fleetingly.

‘Well, you’re here now, which is wonderful. You must be tired.’

‘I want to show Sam around. Which room?’

‘Ed and Sophie are in his old room, but yours is tiny; you could have Dad’s and mine?’

‘Don’t be silly. We’ll manage with mine. I don’t take up much space.’

I sense Sam’s eyes on mine, gauging my reaction.

‘Fine by me.’

‘Thanks, Mum. Where is Ed?’

‘Gone to the pub with Sophie.’

‘Sophie. Gosh, all these changes.’

‘Good changes,’ said Sam.

Bertie appears, disturbed from his sleep by our voices, and runs to Theo, his tail wagging furiously.

‘Is this Bertie?’ Sam sounds surprised. ‘He’s older than I thought.’

‘Bertie!’ Theo kneels to hug Bertie. He looks up at Sam. ‘He’s not old, how dare you!’

He is old, though. Theo noticed it too.

‘When’s Dad home?’

I slip the mobile out of my pocket, glance at it briefly. Still no text from Ted.

‘Tomorrow.’

They go to unpack and then take Bertie with them to look for Ed and Sophie. I put my old blue apron on; there are fish to slice and poach, waiting in the fridge with the gleaming grey shells of prawns. I start to chop celery with onions and garlic, then turn on the radio for the carols. The familiar music fills my mind and the guilt and regret recede a little.

There’s a knock at the door. I rinse my hands quickly then walk to open it, my eyes streaming from the onions.

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