The crowd fell back a little, crunching the slivers of glass beneath their stilettos and hipster brogues. Arthur pushed through to her; he didn’t say anything, simply held out a hand to help her to her feet. Lizzie grabbed it and scrambled up. She had no pride left. She followed him down what felt like an endless succession of dark corridors into what looked like an old scullery full of discarded wedding paraphernalia, piles of empty boxes and flower containers heaped up and left out of sight. This, Lizzie thought, was definitely the servants’ quarters. She had been demoted from guest to unsightly wedding detritus along with all the rest of the rubbish.
Arthur was rummaging in a cupboard underneath a white ceramic sink. He emerged with a first aid kit in his hand. She turned her palm up so that he could clean the cut. The bleeding had stopped now but the wound throbbed, even more so when Arthur dabbed at it with antiseptic. Lizzie suppressed a wince as it stung. He was so dour and exasperated, and there was no way she was going to show any weakness.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, as the silence became blistering. ‘I really don’t know what happened.’
‘Keep your hand still whilst I bandage it up,’ Arthur said. ‘It’s Amelia you should be apologising to,’ he added. ‘It’s her wedding you’ve ruined.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Lizzie snapped. Her hand was smarting but not as much as her feelings. ‘If anyone has ruined the wedding it’s Dudley, and that’s not my fault.’
‘You think?’ Arthur looked at her very directly and her heart did an odd sort of flip. He continued to wrap the bandage methodically around her hand and her wrist, as gently as before. Lizzie suddenly became acutely aware of his touch against her skin and by the time he had finished and tucked the end in she was squirming to escape.
‘Thanks,’ she said, jumping up and heading for the door. ‘I’ll just grab my bag and…’
Go. There was no way she was hanging around here any longer. She felt very odd.
Back in the grand hall, someone had swept up the glass and the place was empty. It was as though nothing had ever happened. Lizzie could hear the band playing and splashes and screams from the pool. The party had moved up a gear.
She called her driver who was there in three minutes. She was in such a hurry to get away that she left her very expensive jacket behind. Days later, when she finally emptied the wedding favours, teabags and scented candle from her goody bag, she found that in the confusion someone must have accidently slipped the little stone angel in with all the other stuff. She meant to return it to Amelia but after all the fuss it never seemed like the right time. Then she saw Amelia wearing her jacket as though it were her own so she never mentioned it again but stowed the angel away in a cupboard. She knew it was petty but Amelia had started it and the jacket was probably worth more than the ornament anyway.
Over the years she forgot about the stone angel, but she never forgot Dudley and Amelia’s wedding. She tried but there was no way she could ever forget a day that had ended with Amelia in hysterics and with blood on her hands. It felt ill-starred. It felt as though, sooner or later, something bad was going to happen.
The Forgotten Sister is available now.
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The Last Daughter Page 31