‘That snow went as quickly as it came, thank goodness,’ Florence Sibley said matter-of-factly as her great-niece appeared at the door to the flat above the former newsagent. ‘I’ve made a chicken pie and mash, your favourite. Sit down by the fire, duck, and get yourself warm – and just look at that bump of yours! What have you got growing in there, a hippopotamus?’
‘Hello, hello, hello, hello,’ the blue and yellow budgie trilled, then started flying around his cage, causing seed husks to shower out and onto the plastic table covering below.
‘Even Boris is pleased to see you,’ Florrie said comfortably. ‘That’s his happy squawk.’ She sat down opposite the beloved girl.
‘Where’s your Christmas tree, then Auntie? You usually religiously get it out two weeks before the big day?’
‘I’ve lost track of time with all these goings-on. At least she’s out of intensive care now.’ Flo’s voice was full of relief.
‘Yes, thank goodness. They are just the best staff there. And although Mum is out of the ICU they suggested we don’t visit just at the moment as she’s not really well enough to see people. Luckily, she hasn’t got to have any skin grafts and when she does come home, the nurse at the local surgery can dress her arms. What’s more, she didn’t have a mark on her anywhere else, the staff nurse told me. It was lovely to see her on FaceTime. Sober. Auntie Florrie, it’s been so long since I’ve seen her like that. She’s on drugs for the pain, obviously, but it was almost like having my old mum back.’
‘Bless you, my love. I shall thank the Good Lord in my prayers tonight. Do you know what happened yet? The night of the fire, I mean.’
Star let out a huge sigh. ‘Yes. I told her not to use it but she still hadn’t sorted out the timings on her radiators, so insisted on using this second-hand open-bar electric fire. The fire investigator said it looked like she dropped something on it, which started a fire, which in turn set off the gas canister that she keeps underneath the static for when she has a barbecue. Luckily, she was outside when it went up or she would have been killed, that’s for sure.’
‘Poor Estelle. We need to think about where she’s going to live when she comes out.’
‘It’s not your worry, Auntie. In fact, it won’t be mine either. You know what the community is like up there. They look after each other and the fire has really made them rally round. There’s an old van that’s been sitting there for years. I went up there with Skye yesterday. Mum’s neighbours have aired it and cleaned it top to bottom, a hell of a job that must have been. They’ve had the services reconnected – electricity, water, flushing loo – and have even given it a lick of paint inside. Everything is in working order now, including the heaters. People have donated their spare bits of furniture, cutlery and crockery, and bought some bits from the Pound Shop here in Penrigan. Tell the truth, I reckon they enjoyed themselves, and Mum will be well set up. All they wanted from me was to get a new bed and bedding, and I’ll be glad to do that. So when Mum moves in, everything will be fresh and new. Morvah, who must be at least ninety now, has run up some pretty curtains and Larry, that’s Billy Dillon’s mate, he’s found the exact green paint the other one had and was just finishing off the outside when we were there.’
‘That’s God in action – the Christian spirit. How marvellous. But if Estelle does need anything, you both know where I am.’ Florence Sibley looked right at Star. ‘You could do without all this stress in your condition, young lady. You do suddenly look huge though.’
‘I know. Probably because I’m due in March.’
Her great-aunt understood immediately. ‘Oh, Star. The one from America with the girlfriend?’
‘Yep. It’s Jack’s.’
‘Oh dear.’
‘I know. And he still has that very same girlfriend in America.’
‘So does this Jack know that he is soon to become a father, with a baby boy or girl in Hartmouth?’
Star sighed. ‘No, and I have no intention of telling him either.’
‘Right. And how did Mr Blarney Stone take it?’
‘This is the thing. He was just about to propose to me, had it all set up, and then the accident happened at Mum’s, which in a way saved me from having to turn him down there and then. But in the heat of the moment when I had just found Mum and thought she was dying, I came out with it. I had to tell him the truth, that it wasn’t his baby.’
‘You always did like a drama.’ Florrie shook her head. ‘The poor man.’
‘Oh, don’t say that. I feel bad enough already.’
‘And how did he take it?’
‘I don’t know. I was in such a state when Mum was carried off in the air ambulance that I rang Kara to come and get me and Conor went back in the van with Billy. I haven’t seen or heard from him since.’
‘He liked you then.’
‘Yes, it seems he did.’
‘Your uncle used to say to some of the youngsters in our church who were struggling with love that time decides who you meet in your life, your heart decides who you want in your life and your behaviour decides who stays in your life.’ She looked at her great-niece. ‘Do you still want him in your life, Steren? Conor, I mean?’
‘With behaviour like mine, I don’t think that question is for me to answer.’
‘And why not tell Jack? I don’t understand, duck. Doesn’t he have a right to know?’
‘It’s a bit like it was with Conor: I don’t want to force someone to be with me just because a baby is on the way. I want to be with someone for love. As I told you, he came here for a weekend, and gave no indication that he liked me. Mind you, I did tell him that I was pregnant with another man’s child. What a fool I’ve been. Oh, Auntie, how can one human being make so many mistakes in one life!’
‘You’re getting dramatic again, and it’s not good for you. I’ll go and dish up our dinner.’ Florrie waited a few minutes until Star was tucking into the lovely hot food, hungrily clearing her plate. Then she asked gently, ‘Did you not tell him how you felt when you saw him, my love?’
‘No, because he dismissed what happened between us … now let me remember his words … as “the best one-day stand” he’d ever had.’
‘Well, it’s better than being the worst,’ Florrie said, forking some pie into her mouth.
‘Auntie! That’s not funny.’
The old lady swallowed and had a drink of water. ‘It is a little bit. Oh, Star, good communication is the difference between a relationship working or not, but sadly between what is said and not meant, and what is meant and not said, most of love can get lost. It’s tragic really.’
‘If only I had your sense.’
‘I’ve had years of practice.’ Florence Sibley stood up and put her hand on her great-niece’s shoulder. ‘Now let’s have some of my jam roly-poly and custard, shall we? We need it in this weather.’
‘Amen!’ Boris the budgie shouted from his cage.