Stella was irritated that Jack was coming over. She was having such a good time with Eve and Arthur, more so than she would ever have anticipated. It was very cosy, the three of them together. There had been few tensions, this first week. She was careful with Eve, though, feeling they were still sounding each other out, finding a way to be together – they had not lived with each other since Eve left home at eighteen. But her daughter did seem genuinely pleased to have her there. And the house was lovely, the garden tranquil in the summer sun – and beautiful, despite the work needed on both. She felt unusually calm, although she could sense something nibbling at the outer edges of her mood. Something she was resolutely ignoring.
‘You’d better be careful,’ she’d warned her daughter as they sat drinking tea in the garden that morning, ‘I’ll get my feet under the table and you won’t be able to shift me.’
Eve, bless her heart, had only missed one beat. ‘That’d be great, Mum,’ she said, a bright smile on her face. ‘Stay as long as you like. We can start a commune … Iain would love that.’
But Jack threatened to ruin it. Was she being a competitive gran? Jack had stolen a march on her in the grandparenting stakes. He’d seen a lot more of her precious Arthur since Eve and Eric had moved to Kent. She wanted him all to herself.
‘You don’t mind Dad coming over, do you?’ Eve asked, seeing the look on her face as she glanced up from the patch of earth she was attempting to clear. ‘It’s just so rare to get him on his own without Lisa. I couldn’t resist.’ Her daughter paused. ‘He sounded a bit weird on the phone. Like he couldn’t speak properly. Said it was hay fever, but he sounded sort of upset.’
‘He doesn’t get hay fever … Maybe he and Lisa had a row?’ Stella shrugged. ‘You never know what goes on behind closed doors.’
Stella was head down in the weeds of the herbaceous border when Jack arrived. Sitting back on her heels and rubbing the sweat from her forehead, she smiled a cautious greeting. Jack hovered awkwardly. He’s getting old, she thought, remembering his tall, vigorous figure from the past, his vivid auburn waves falling around his neck, broad shoulders squared to the world. A small sigh escaped her at the memory. I loved him so much once, she mused silently.
Now, Jack seemed tired and diminished, his expression haunted. Getting up and rubbing the grass from the knees of her old, baggy jeans, she joined him at the table. Eve had gone inside to make tea and they were alone for the first time in decades. Jack was looking at her intently.
‘I went …’ He stopped.
Stella sensed from the way he was staring at her that he was going to bring up the subject of Jonny again, and she willed him not to. For a moment they sat without speaking, Jack’s intended words frozen on his tongue.
Breaking his gaze and casting her eyes around the garden, Stella said, her voice strange and high, ‘Isn’t this a wonderful place? They made such a great choice.’
Jack cleared his throat. ‘Yeah. Beautiful.’ He, too, changed the focus of his stare. ‘I suppose you know what all these plants and trees are, having a husband like Iain.’
‘He’s not my husband. But yes, it helps. I’ve always wanted to be more of a gardener, though. You know that.’
Jack smiled, ‘I suppose. But it was so long ago, you and me. I forget.’
She stared at him. ‘Do you? I remember every last minute.’ She felt a flush rise to her cheeks as she spoke words she had not intended. ‘Well,’ she added, ‘you know what I mean.’
He didn’t reply, just looked away. ‘So, what’s that plant over there, the spiky one with the dark red flowers?’
She followed the direction of his index finger. ‘Astrantia, I think.’ It didn’t matter if she was wrong, her ex-husband had never really been interested in nature – the cut-throat machinations of the political world had taken up too much of his time and head space.
Eve saved them from a turgid trawl through the garden plants of Britain by arriving with a tray of tea and a plate of shortbread.
‘So, Dad,’ Eve said, ‘what was up with you earlier? You sounded upset when you rang.’
‘Yes,’ Jack said, then stopped.
Her daughter frowned. ‘And?’
Stella held her breath. She saw the stubborn determination in Jack’s gaze. He was on a mission.
‘Yes,’ he said again, ‘I was upset. I went back to the house where your brother died this morning. It’s not far from here.’
‘Oh, Dad!’ Eve was immediately sympathetic and reached over to take her father’s hand. ‘Was it … Did you … I mean …’ She tailed off, glancing over at Stella.
Not looking at either of them, his head bowed, Jack went on, ‘I didn’t go in. I don’t think there was anyone there, anyway.’ He forced a laugh. ‘Some bloke in a van came up behind me and thought I was in need of medical assistance.’
‘Were you?’ Stella asked, hearing the trembling in her voice. A hot wave of anguish coursed through her body as she remembered the house with the grey slate roof.
‘Of course not,’ Jack said dully.
No one spoke for a long time. Then Eve said, her voice low but passionate, ‘Tell me, Dad … Mum. Please tell me what happened. Please just talk about it, will you? I know it must be the hardest thing for you both. But it’s so long ago now …’
Is it? Stella asked herself. In actual years, maybe, but still a second away in her thoughts.
She waited for Jack to speak, but Eve turned to her and said, ‘Mum? Say something. Please. Someone.’
‘You know what happened,’ Stella said quietly, the words forced from unwilling lips. ‘I told you.’
Eve’s face was tense with trepidation. She looked as if she were bracing herself, compelled to ask the questions she knew neither of them wanted to answer.
‘I know that Jonny died, obviously. But not much more.’
Jack still said nothing, his head bowed, so Stella felt obliged to respond, although she wanted desperately to run away. ‘What more do you want to know, Eve? It was a terrible thing. And it happened before you were born. Why do you suddenly need the details?’
Eve frowned. ‘Because you’ve never, ever properly spoken about it, Mum. Not for my whole entire life. Neither of you has. And it’s the first time I’ve got you both alone together, you and Dad, since … well, since forever. I’ve always avoided asking before, because I knew it would upset you and I didn’t want to do that. But not knowing what really happened to my own brother is weird, don’t you think? We ought to be able to … as a family … after all this time …’ She tailed off.
Stella looked at Jack. For a split second he met her eye. Was it resignation she saw, or just the old, familiar pain?
‘OK,’ Jack said, ‘OK, sweetheart. I’m sure you’re right.’