Her Sister's Secret by E. V. Seymour

Author:E. V. Seymour [Seymour, E. V.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2019-06-12T17:00:00+00:00

Chapter 45

Back to his ridiculously sunny self, the eccentricity of the night before forgotten, Rocco left for work, no more said about his nocturnal adventure.

He stooped over the bed, took my face in his hands, kissed me. “Have a good day.”

“See you tonight?”

“Can’t, babe. Got some work to catch up on. I’ll give you a ring, yeah?”

I huddled under the sheets, fully intending to go back to sleep. Thick headed from drinking wine, scratchy and out of sorts, I gave up, got up and cleared up. As soon as it hit 8 a.m. I called home.

Dad answered. Difficult to ascertain his mood, there was no mention of our disagreement. Ill at ease, I asked how things were, more specifically how Mum was.

“Up and down. You know how it is. She’s busy with funeral arrangements after Nate phoned last night, out of the blue, and asked if your mother could take over. He’s finding it all extremely difficult. I’m worried about him, to be honest.”

Don’t be. “Oh?”

“He talked about dissolving the partnership.”

Good. “Understandable in the circumstances.” I bit down hard on my teeth, briefly endangering the enamel. “There are plenty of other decent architects you can work with, Dad.”

“Won’t be the same.” He sounded properly cast down. “It feels like another link to Scarlet broken.” I felt bad for my dad, but I’d have to be flayed alive before I whispered a word of Nate’s affair. It would break his trust and his heart. “Nate’s got it into his head that he needs to go travelling.” From Dad’s tone, I could tell he thought it a daft idea. To my mind, nowhere could be far enough away. “Which reminds me, could you collect Zach for the funeral?”

“He’s coming?”

“Of course, he’s coming,” Dad said, put out. “I spoke to him late last night.” I pinched myself. Two slippery individuals had actually taken my advice seriously or, in Nate’s case, threat. I told Dad I’d gladly chauffeur my brother. He gave me the details: funeral at a local crematorium, wake at the house. Mum had got her way. Cremation not burial; I wondered how Scarlet would feel about that.

“Hang on a second, I think Mum wants a word.”

I briefly closed my eyes and braced myself for a conversation I didn’t wish to have.

“Molly, darling, how are you doing?”

It was the best I’d heard her since Scarlet’s death. “So-so.”

We discussed flowers and readings. I chose a hymn, The Day Thou Gavest’ because we’d sung it at school, and it was Scarlet’s favourite.

“Do you think we should have something more uplifting on the way out?” Mum said, which took me by surprise. “I was thinking Morning Has Broken.”

“Great idea. What about dress code? I don’t have anything in black that’s really suitable.”

“How about that rather nice navy wrap-over with the short sleeves?”

“Not too informal?”

“I don’t think so. Scarlet always liked you in it.”

Then it was good enough for me. We chatted some more, mostly about the caterers she’d hired.

“Have you any idea of numbers?”

“A lot,” she said, without quantifying it.

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