by M S Morris
‘He seems like a very nice boy,’ said Vanessa. ‘And Chloe is more sensible than you give her credit for. She’s growing up so quickly.’
‘She’ll be sixteen in June,’ said Bridget. ‘Sixteen!’
‘What a lovely age. The whole world ahead of her! Do you remember what you were like at sixteen?’
‘Barely.’ At sixteen, Bridget had dreamed of travelling the world and marrying a wealthy Italian count. Or becoming a professor of History at Oxford, and discovering some long-lost ancient document in the depths of the Bodleian Library. She had done none of those things. Now she realised with a start that she didn’t even know what Chloe’s hopes and aspirations were. She couldn’t even recall when she had last asked her daughter such a question. Time was slipping through her grasp and she was powerless to stop it.
‘I’ll be forty next year,’ she said to Vanessa. ‘How can that be possible?’
Vanessa snorted. ‘Forty? Don’t worry about it. At the grand old age of forty-two, I can assure you that birthdays are all in the mind.’
‘Birthdays are not just in the mind,’ said Bridget. ‘And even if they were, that wouldn’t make them any less worrying. If anything, I’d say it’s all the more reason to worry.’
‘Well, now you’re just being silly.’
At the sign for Andover, Vanessa signalled left and turned off the A34 onto the A303. To either side, the road was lined with a thick layer of trees and shrubs. Ahead, the tarmac stretched straight as a dart towards the horizon.
‘So,’ said Bridget, turning finally to the purpose of their journey. ‘What’s your strategy for Mum and Dad?’ She was sure that Vanessa would have one. Before leaving her career to have children and fill her time with domestic affairs, Vanessa had managed large projects for a big company. Strategy and planning had been as normal to her then as the school run and after-school violin lessons were now.
‘Well, for now, we just need to make sure they can manage day to day. But long-term we need to move them back to Oxford, obviously. We can’t keep driving down to Dorset every time there’s an emergency. Besides, they need somewhere much smaller and easier to manage. A nice retirement home would suit them well, perhaps even an apartment. There’s really no need for them to have to look after a garden at all.’
‘I think Dad enjoys his gardening,’ said Bridget.
Vanessa cast a scornful glance her way. ‘That’s all very well in theory, but he doesn’t have the time or the energy any more. I had to mow the lawn and cut back the worst of the shrubs last time I was down there. Easter is the time of year when the gardening workload begins to get heavy, and so far Dad hasn’t really done a thing. It’s going to get out of hand very quickly.’
Bridget acknowledged the fact with a nod. She knew from first-hand experience just how quickly a garden could get out of control if you neglected it.
‘I’ve also been looking into retirement homes that provide care,’ said Vanessa. ‘There’s a retirement village in Witney that offers round-the-clock nursing. It even has its own spa.’
Bridget couldn’t really picture their parents making use of a spa, but she let Vanessa talk enthusiastically about all the health and social benefits of such a place. She’d obviously given it a lot of thought.
‘It would be nice to have Mum and Dad living closer,’ Bridget acknowledged, ‘but I think they’re going to resist moving.’
‘Of course they will,’ said Vanessa. ‘They’re stubborn. Just like you.’
‘Like me?’ If anyone in this car was stubborn, Bridget felt pretty sure that it wasn’t her.
‘So I’ll need you to back me up,’ said Vanessa. ‘Can I count on you?’
Could Vanessa count on her? The question went right to the heart of the two sisters’ relationship. Although at times it felt to Bridget that she and Vanessa were pulling in opposite directions, they always had an instinctive understanding of each other. Unlike Diane Gilbert, who had kept an explosive secret from her own sister for so many years, Bridget and Vanessa had always been completely open with each other. Despite their obvious differences, perhaps they weren’t too dissimilar after all.
Vanessa glanced anxiously across at Bridget, and Bridget smiled back. ‘You can always count on me, Vanessa. You know that. Isn’t that what sisters are for?’
The Bridget Hart series continues in Toll for the Dead (Bridget Hart #7)
Thank you for reading
We hope you enjoyed this book. If you did, then we would be very grateful if you would please take a moment to leave a review at Amazon. Thank you.
JOIN OUR MAILING LIST
If you would like to receive news about new books and promotions, please join our mailing list. Thank you.
Mailing List
FOLLOW US ON SOCIAL MEDIA
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/msmorrisbooks/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/bridgethartoxford/
MORE BOOKS IN THE BRIDGET HART SERIES:
Aspire to Die (Bridget Hart #1)
Killing by Numbers (Bridget Hart #2)
Do No Evil (Bridget Hart #3)
In Love and Murder (Bridget Hart #4)
A Darkly Shining Star (Bridget Hart #5)
Preface to Murder (Bridget Hart #6)
Toll for the Dead (Bridget Hart #7)
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
M S Morris is the pseudonym for the writing partnership of Margarita and Steve Morris. They both studied at Oxford University, where they first met in 1990. Together they write psychological thrillers and crime novels. They are married and live in Oxfordshire.