Brooke blinked. ‘Gone?’
‘That’s right,’ Janey said. ‘And the children too.’
‘She can’t have gone. Where would she go?’
‘There’s a letter in the living room that tells you all about it. It’s addressed to you but it’s open. I hope you don’t mind me reading it.’
‘But… she can’t be gone.’
Brooke ran out of her bedroom and flung open the door to her sister’s. Sure enough, the cupboard was hanging open; empty. Rhianna’s clothes and Livvy’s little things were gone – just a few of the less portable items had been left. When she ran into Max’s room, she found the same there: his clothes, his favourite books and toys, all gone.
‘Mum, what’s happening?’ she asked.
‘They must’ve snuck out early this morning while you were sleeping.’
‘But… why?’
‘Here.’ Janey put an arm around Brooke and guided her into the living room, onto the sofa. She picked up a letter from the coffee table and pressed it into her hand.
‘Read this,’ she said. ‘I’ll make tea.’
The ink swam before Brooke’s eyes until it eventually formed into her sister’s familiar handwriting.
Dear Brooke,
Apologies for the cliché, but by the time you read this, we’ll be gone. It’s clear you don’t trust me any more, and I can’t blame you. Nevertheless, I’d like you to know the whole story.
Nick Weyborough asked me to go out with him by telephone shortly after he approached me with the final offer for the pub. It was weak of me to say yes, and even weaker not to tell you what I’d done, but I was flattered by his attention and found him to be a charming man: funny, and good company. Fresh from my life in Nantwich, Nick felt like ‘my kind of people’ – sorry if that sounds snobbish, but that was how it felt. Perhaps it was my ego urging me on, or perhaps a need for someone who seemed to understand me, but I can promise it was never an attempt to undermine you or force you to sell the pub.
Nick and I met for coffee approximately five times, as well as sharing numerous phone calls and texts. As I told you, we never slept together. We never even held hands. We just talked. However, it was all over by the time you saw him trying to contact me yesterday. I’d realised that Nick had always been more interested in the pub than in me. You were right, I was naive, but not so naive as not to realise he was pressing me more and more on the future of the pub as the Willowtree deadline drew near. He gets a performance-related bonus on top of his salary, did you know that? Although I think in the end, it was as much about not wanting to admit he’d lost as it was about acquiring the pub. His sort can’t bear that. It upsets them to think there’s anything money can’t buy.
Anyway, his elation when I let slip that Mum would be signing her share over to us, making me an equal partner, was the final straw. I told him I knew that his interest was in the pub, not in me, and that I wouldn’t see him again. As you saw from my phone, he’s continued to badger me with calls. If you’d looked a little closer, you’d see that none of them have been answered or returned since the date a week ago when I ended things between us – if you can say there ever was anything between us. I’m not sure that you can.
I’m sorry that I destroyed the trust you had in me, and the bond we’d built as sisters. I was a fool to let myself be manipulated by Nick for so long, but as you pointed out, I do have my track record against me. Anyway, it’s done now and I can’t take it back.
I spent many sleepless hours thinking last night, and I finally concluded that I had to take positive action for my and the children’s future. I know you don’t want to sell the pub, and despite what you might believe, I’d never expect or want you to – not any more. The Highwayman’s ought to have a Padgett over the door. But I do desperately need security, and money to provide for my family. Every month it gets harder to keep treading water. There are no jobs for someone like me, and no way for me to easily become financially independent. For this reason and others, I’ve decided to take Max and Livvy home. Back to their father.
Brooke looked up in horror as her mum handed her a cup of tea. ‘James! She’s gone back to that bastard?’
Janey nodded to the note. ‘Read on.’
Brooke put her tea down and carried on reading.
James has apologised over and over for his ‘mistake’, as he calls it. He wants us to go to marriage counselling, and he’s sworn to me nothing like that will ever happen again. For my sake and the children’s, I choose to believe him. He’s also offered to pay for my barrister training, which ought to guarantee my future financial security: something that I would never be able to afford for myself. Brooke, I know you’ll think this is a terrible idea, but I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this and I genuinely believe it’s for the best. I hope you can forgive me now you’ve read this, and that you’ll be willing to call me your sister again, but please don’t try to talk me out of it. It’s what’s best – for me, for the children, and for you too. We’ve been a burden on you and Mum for too long. You both have your own lives to lead – Mum with Martin, you with Hayden and your pub. Max, Livvy and I will be fine, and what’s more, we’ll be provided for. Please, please don’t worry about us.
I love you. Please believe I mean that, and I never meant to hurt you. And please, if you can bring yourself to forgive me, do me a favour and make things up with Hayden. You two are made for each other.
Your sister,
Rhianna
‘Oh God, Mum,’ Brooke whispered. ‘What the hell did I go and do?’
Three days later, Rhianna was sitting in James’s conservatory while the children played in the garden, staring at her iPhone.
Her thumb hovered over the Fitbit icon. She scrunched her eyes closed for a moment, then slipped it back into her pocket.
‘Oh. Here you are,’ James said as he came in. ‘Darling, you’re going to catch a chill sitting in the draught.’
‘I’m all right.’ She roused herself. ‘I like to sit where I can see the children. I’ll go into the living room in a little while.’
‘You mean the sitting room.’
She frowned. ‘James, must you keep correcting me?’
‘Sorry.’ He sat down beside her and rubbed her shoulder. ‘I didn’t mean to offend you. Would you like me to fetch a blanket for your legs?’
‘No, that’s OK. But thank you.’
He leaned over to kiss her neck. ‘You know, Flops, you don’t have to watch the children,’ he said in a whisper. ‘Ursula’s with them. They’d be quite safe if you and I were to sneak upstairs.’
James was currently making overtures to the children’s old au pair, Avril, trying to lure her back from her new employers with generous offers of a pay increase and additional holiday, but for now Max and Livvy were being cared for by a stern Swiss lady he’d recruited: Ursula. Rhianna’s reassurances that it was fine, she could care for them herself without any additional help, had fallen on deaf ears.
She tried not to flinch as James nibbled her ear.
She’d managed to avoid it so far, but Rhianna knew she would have to have sex with her husband at some point. This was the choice she’d made, and whether she loved him or not, she was going to have to lie in the bed she’d made for herself and think of England.
But right now, his affair was still too raw. When she pictured him with Shari, it turned her stomach.
Gently she extricated herself from his embraces.
‘Not today,’ she said, forcing a smile. ‘I’ve got terrible cramps. Maybe tomorrow.’
He looked put out. ‘Three days’ worth of cramps?’
‘It happens, James.’ She shuffled to face him. ‘I did want to show you some of the graduate diploma courses I’ve been looking at though. There are some distance-learning options that would be perfect for fitting around the children, and I could easily—’
‘You don’t need to rush into that, do you?’
She blinked. ‘But the new academic term starts soon. If I hurry, I might be able to get a last-minute place.’
‘Why scrabble to get in this term?’ He lifted her hand to kiss it. ‘There’s plenty of time, Rhianna. The rest of our lives. For now, why not just enjoy being home?’
‘Oh,’ she said, deflated. ‘Um, all right. If that’s what you think is best.’
He glanced at her arm. ‘Have you thought any more about what I was talking about last night?’
‘Yes.’ She bowed her head. ‘Yes, I… I suppose you’re right. If you want me to have the surgery, James, then… I will.’
He beamed. ‘That’s my good girl. Then you can be as beautiful as God meant you to be.’ He planted a soft kiss on her lips. ‘I’m going to toddle over to the office for a while. Then I’m going to come back here and whisk you away for a romantic meal at that Thai place you like, just the two of us. How does that sound?’
‘You’re going into the office again?’
‘There are a few little jobs I’d like to get finished.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re not still worried, are you?’
‘No. I just… didn’t think you’d be going in today. You said you wouldn’t need to if you worked yesterday evening.’
‘Would you like to come with me? Check there isn’t anything untoward going on?’
She flushed. ‘Don’t be silly.’
‘I can get you signed witness statements from Jeremy and the other staff if you like. That’s if you still don’t trust me.’
‘I trust you, all right?’ she said, failing to keep the irritation out of her voice. ‘I was only surprised you were going in. Nothing else.’
‘Good. Because there is nothing else.’ He leaned down to kiss the top of her head. ‘I’ll be back in a little while. I love you.’
‘Goodbye.’ She suppressed a grimace as he waited expectantly. ‘I… I love you too.’
Seventy miles away in Yorkshire, Brooke was leaning on her fists behind the bar when Martin Brady appeared.
‘Smile, love,’ he said with his usual jollity. ‘It might never happen.’
‘It already did happen, Marty. And do you know how bloody annoying that is, some bloke telling you to smile when you’re not in the mood?’
‘All right,’ he said, blinking. ‘Just trying to cheer you up. Not like you to snap.’
‘Yeah, well, that was when you were a customer. Now you’re family.’
He smiled. ‘I suppose that’s an honour of sorts.’
‘It is, actually.’ She sighed. ‘God, I’m sorry, Marty. I didn’t mean to have a pop at you. Let me get you your drink.’
‘No word from your sister?’ he asked as she pulled his pint.
Yes, there’d been word. Rhianna had eventually picked up the phone after Brooke’s repeated attempts to contact her – not that it had done any good. She’d only repeated in a soft, dreamlike voice exactly what she’d said in the letter: that she’d thought it through, and it had nothing to do with Brooke or with anything else. She just genuinely believed going back to James was in the best interests of both her and her children. She hadn’t sounded resentful at all. She’d sounded… defeated. And no amount of entreaty or apology on Brooke’s side had been enough to make her change her mind.
She had at least answered the phone though, which was more than Hayden was doing. He was currently ignoring Brooke’s calls altogether. God, she was desperate to talk this through with him; to feel his comforting arms around her and know he was on her side…
‘Brooke?’ Martin said.
She forced herself out of her reverie as she put his pint in front of him.
‘No. No word from Rhia,’ she said in answer to his question. ‘At least, not the words I wanted to hear. I couldn’t change her mind. Same response as Mum got when she tried to convince her to come home.’
‘Ah well. Happen she’ll see sense in the end.’
Brooke sighed. ‘I think it might be too late for that, Marty. She seemed determined to make a go of it with James for the children’s sake. And he’s just such a… you-know-what.’
‘Aye, we all know what he is,’ Martin said with a grim smile. His face glowed as Janey appeared behind the bar with a tray of dirty glasses. ‘Heyup. What’s this vision I see before me? Could it be Aphrodite, the goddess of love, come to earth to steal men’s hearts?’
Janey laughed, pushing an escaping tendril of hair away from her hot forehead. ‘I don’t know. Does the goddess Aphrodite smell of stale beer?’
‘She does in my version of heaven.’
‘Well, then I suppose it must be.’
He leaned over the bar to steal a kiss.
‘I’d better get back to the boys,’ he said. ‘I have to enjoy this bachelor lifestyle while I can, don’t I? See you later, ladies.’
‘How’re you doing, love?’ Janey said softly to Brooke when they were alone.
‘I’m scaring the customers with my miserable face. Everything’s such an almighty mess, Mum.’
‘I know. But we’ll fix it.’
‘How?’
‘Well, I don’t know that yet,’ Janey admitted. ‘But we will. We’ve come too far together for it to end like this.’
‘Hayden didn’t turn up for his shift.’
Janey lowered her head. ‘I noticed.’
‘I guess he really meant it. About quitting and… and the rest of it.’
‘Well, we’ll see about him too.’
Silence fell. Brooke gazed at her left arm.
‘I might book another tattoo,’ she said.
‘Why?’
She shrugged. ‘Something to do.’
‘What will you get this time?’
‘Dunno. I thought maybe a little owl.’
‘Like Plop, you mean.’
Brooke frowned. ‘What?’
‘Plop,’ Janey said. ‘From that book you liked when you were little. The one you and Livvy were reading.’
Brooke swallowed when she pictured Livvy, her eyes bright with adventure by proxy as her aunt read the story to her – being careful, of course, to do all the voices just as instructed. Brooke had quickly become the first choice to do story time, and had been looking forward to introducing her niece to some of her other favourites from childhood. She just knew Liv was going to love Mrs Pepperpot, and The Worst Witch, and My Naughty Little Sister and…
Was that what had made her think of an owl? Had she subconsciously been thinking of Plop, and of Livvy? Brooke Padgett, long convinced that she and children were better off out of each other’s way, hadn’t believed she was capable of missing a pair of kids as much as she missed her niece and nephew. The flat felt so miserably dead and quiet without them.
But she had what she wanted, didn’t she? She cast a resentful look around the pub. Yes, she had The Highwayman’s Drop, the thing that had filled her life ever since her dad had died. The thing that had taken the place of meaningful human relationships and kept her frozen in a sort of half-life, unable to fully move on from her grief. Until Rhianna and the children and Hayden had come into her world to show her what really mattered.
And now she’d driven them away. Her sister, her niece and nephew, the man she loved – even her mum, her life’s one constant, was about to leave her. Yes, she had her pub, but it was all she bloody had.
God, how had she been so selfish – and so blind? She’d called her sister selfish for wanting her to sell the pub, never acknowledging how her own refusal to grant Rhianna the value of her share was ultimately going to force her back to the husband who cheated on her, infantilised and belittled her. It was the exact opposite of what their dad had surely intended when he chose to leave part of the pub to Rhianna to keep her out of James’s power.
Brooke winced with shame when she thought of Hayden too. She’d treated him appallingly, accusing him of trying to use her as a substitute mother for his kids when all he’d wanted was to make her a part of the family he adored. And now she was left with no family at all, neither his nor her own; just this. Just a building; a building where every day she was expected to screw on a smile for strangers after she’d pushed all her own loved ones away.
Well, she wasn’t sure what to do about Hayden, but there was still a chance to make things right with Rhianna. There was one sure-fire way to set her sister free, so she’d never have to depend on James again. A way to show her she mattered more to Brooke than any mere thing. And yes, there was still just time…
‘Mum?’ she said.
‘Yes, love?’
‘I’ve got an idea. To get Rhianna home again.’
Janey blinked. ‘Have you? When did you have that?’
‘About thirty seconds ago. I’m going to need your help, though.’
‘What’ve you got in mind?’
‘The nuclear option.’ She closed her eyes. ‘I need to call Nick Weyborough.’