Joe let out a tiny gasp and stepped forward to hold her but she held up her palm to stop him. Any show of affection now would reduce her to a blubbering mess, and she needed to finish the story. To get out the secret she’d been keeping for nine long years. ‘I stopped looking for you after that. There didn’t seem any point. You might have come back for the baby, but it was clear you were never coming back for me.’ She lifted her chin and stood strong against the tide of emotion battering her defences. ‘I stayed with a friend in Wales for a few weeks to get my head straight and while I was there your dad died. That’s why I wasn’t at his funeral. I wasn’t avoiding you. Nana didn’t tell me about your father until I came home. She figured I was dealing with enough.’
‘Lottie … I had no idea.’
‘I know that.’ She dredged up a brief half-smile from somewhere. ‘Because I kept it a secret. And I am sorry for that. But it’s haunted me ever since.’
‘Did I cause the miscarriage?’
Lottie shook her head automatically. Then she remembered what he’d said about no more secrets. ‘I don’t know what caused it, Joe. Nobody does. Maybe it was stress; or maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.’ She returned the Christmas card to her back pocket. She’d done what Nana had advised, and a great weight had been lifted. As usual Nana was right.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ said Joe.
‘It’s okay. You’d better go and check Megan caught that flight.’
He drew in a breath. ‘Right.’ He opened the door to leave and Lottie walked away.
Lottie did feel better for having told Joe, but she wasn’t sure anything had actually changed. He knew now why his leaving had had such an impact, but that was nine years ago, and they were different people now. At least she no longer had the weight of it on her shoulders. She straightened her back and headed for the safety of the kitchen. She was going to make everyone ham sandwiches to take home with them, whether they wanted them or not.
The remnants of tea were waiting for her on the kitchen table. The empty trifle dish, a few slices of ham on a platter and a multitude of dirty bowls and plates. They’d not bothered to tidy up. Lottie sighed. Maybe she had been doing all this for selfish reasons. Perhaps it wasn’t about bringing the family together; perhaps it was about Lottie needing to belong and to feel needed.
But right now, the kitchen needed tidying up.
Lottie snatched the roll of clingfilm out of the cupboard and in her haste caught her finger on the serrated edge of the box.
‘Bugger.’ She sucked her throbbing finger. It was the last straw. She sank to the floor, hugged her knees and let the tears flow. She’d been holding them back for far too long.
The back door flew open. Joe walked in and without a word he lifted her into his arms and held her tight while she sobbed. Minutes passed before he put her down on a chair and handed her a tissue. She blew her nose. He pulled a chair up next to her and sat down.
‘You’re bleeding,’ he said, noticing her finger.
‘I cut it on the clingfilm,’ she said miserably.
‘Clingfilm? Only you could do that.’
‘I bet I look a sight,’ she said, drying her eyes.
‘You look …’ he smiled. ‘I can’t lie. You look a fright.’
‘Cheers. I don’t know why I’m so upset.’ Lottie blew her nose again. ‘I was thinking about Nana and how crap everything is without her. And I know she was just a grandparent and she was a good age and I should be getting over it. But I’m not. I don’t know why but I’m not.’ Her hands flopped into her lap in defeat.
Joe wore a puzzled expression. ‘Lottie, you’re upset because you lost your mother.’
Lottie snorted a laugh and was confused by Joe’s serious expression. ‘My mother is alive and well and right now is most likely snogging the face off an ex-porn star.’ The next time I utter that sentence it’s likely I’ll be lying on a therapist’s couch, she thought.
Joe looked like he was chewing the inside of his mouth. ‘And that is why Angie is not really your mother.’ Lottie opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her with a shake of his head. ‘I know that biologically she is, but that’s where it ends. Rose took on the role of your mother when you were very young. She’s the one stable person you’ve had in your life. Rose was the one who was always there for you, loved you unconditionally and wanted the best for you. That’s what a mother does.’ She saw tears well in his eyes. ‘I had one of the best, so I know how it feels when you lose them. We’ve both lost our mothers, Lottie.’ He opened his arms for her and she leaned into his hug. So many times she’d wanted nothing more than to be right where she was now.
Lottie let his theory sink in. It did make sense. ‘And I guess I treated her like a mother too.’ Nana was always the one person she would turn to. The person she shared her hopes, dreams and failings with, knowing she wouldn’t be judged. It was a little like the puzzle pieces were dropping into place. She wondered how that had made Angie feel. ‘There’s always been a rivalry between me and my mother for Nana’s affections.’
‘Like a sibling?’
‘Exactly like a sibling.’ This was all a bit of an eye-opener for Lottie. His simple explanation answered so many questions that had troubled her for such a long time.
‘Rose was more than a mother to you, Lottie – she was your stability, your rock, your safe place. But you know, you are tougher than you think.’
Lottie sighed and let out an ironic chuckle. ‘I’m about to be made homeless, so I’m going to have to get tough pretty quickly.’
Joe leant back. Lottie missed the warmth of him against her, but she knew he had just been being friendly. She stood up to put some distance between them.
‘Ah. About you being homeless.’ Joe looked sheepish.
‘What?’ She didn’t like the look on his face. ‘I’ll be fine. I can stay with Dayea and Bernard if I get desperate. I could do worse.’
‘What if the new owner of Henbourne Manor wanted you to stay on here?’
She pondered it. It was a nice daydream. ‘I’d love that, but it’s about as likely as my mother becoming a nun.’ She chuckled, but the laughter soon faded. ‘The estate agent said a company had bought it, so they’ll probably turn it into flats or, worse still, knock it down.’ A shiver of dread ran up her spine. If that was the case, she would have to make sure she was a long way away – she just couldn’t bear to see it happen.
Joe frowned. ‘Nope. That’s definitely not happening.’
Lottie’s head whipped in Joe’s direction. ‘You know who’s bought it. Don’t you?’ He nodded but kept his eyes downward. ‘Come on, we promised no more secrets.’
He looked up, and as their eyes met, her resolve puddled inside her. She was going to have to get a long way away from Joe Broomfield too. Being this close was going to keep stirring up feelings she wasn’t equipped to handle. She pulled a tin from the shelf and busied herself with finding a small plaster for her finger.
‘It’s me,’ said Joe, in a small voice.
‘What’s you?’ She glanced over her shoulder.
‘It’s my company that’s bought the manor. I’m the new owner.’
Lottie was momentarily stunned. She blinked a few times and focused on Joe. His face had broken out into a grin. Lottie felt her jaw drop. ‘You?’ He nodded. ‘I’ve been worrying myself sick about this place and it was you all along!’ She gave him a playful thump.
‘Hey!’
‘Why didn’t you say something?’
‘I didn’t want it to influence what you did. I still don’t.’
‘You’re not pulling it down are you?’ Lottie held her breath.
‘No. Definitely not. But it’ll get updated. Some new heating for a start.’ He gave a shiver.
‘Why did you buy it?’ Suspicion marauded her happy thoughts.
‘I love this place. I always have. And I knew I was ready to come back to Henbourne – what better place to have a veterinary practice than here? I’m th
inking of converting the garages and store into consulting rooms and building a theatre at the back for surgery. All in keeping with the original building.’
Lottie’s mind was working overtime. ‘But surely you didn’t know it was for sale until you saw the sign in the garden?’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘So when you left America you couldn’t have known.’ She watched him closely as he replied.
‘True. But I already had plans for the practice, and I was on the lookout for a suitable property locally. As soon as I saw the For Sale sign that was it, I had to have it.’ Joe rummaged in his jacket pocket. ‘And I also had one of these.’ He pulled out a familiar-looking Christmas card.
‘Nana.’ Lottie’s voice was barely a murmur. Joe offered her the card and she took it. She blinked away tears as she tried to read the familiar handwriting.
Dear Joe,
I hope this finds you in good health and at peace with the past. Lottie is back home at the manor and she’s breathed life into the old place and me. Having her here has had me thinking about the decisions we make in a passing moment and then feel we have to live with forever – I do not believe this to be the case. There is little, except for death, that cannot be undone.
You are very much missed by the Collins family. I always considered you one of my brood. I am not a young woman and I find that I am nearing the end of my life’s journey somewhat sooner than I expected.
I intend to make this Christmas a special one and we would love you to share it with us. You always have a home here at Henbourne Manor.
Here’s to a very happy Christmas, wherever you decide to spend it.
With love,
Rose
X
P.S. Seize every opportunity that comes within reach. They are often fleeting, so go with your gut.
‘Oh, Joe. I have the same postscript on my card.’ She turned her tear-laden eyes to face him and found he was welling up too.
‘Should we do as she says? Go with our gut?’
‘Depends on what it’s telling you.’ Lottie swallowed. Her pulse was picking up pace.
Joe leaned forward. ‘Mine’s telling me to do … this.’ He watched her closely as he placed a delicate kiss on her lips. He slowly retreated. ‘What’s yours telling you?’
Lottie reached up and pulled his soft lips back to hers. That was all the answer she hoped he needed.
Chapter Forty-One
New Year’s Day
Lottie was aware of a shaft of light on her eyelids. She blinked herself awake and stretched. She reached out an arm and, realising she was alone, she scooched herself up onto her elbows and looked around her bedroom. Thing was, it wasn’t entirely hers any more. Joe had pretty much moved in. They’d talked non-stop after the family had left, and a lot had healed between them. They’d drawn a line under the past and spent time mapping out their future – or, more accurately, the future of Henbourne Manor. Joe had money from his American ventures, so Lottie had sketched out plans of what they could do. Together they had planned how best to update the building whilst keeping its original features. One new addition was to be an artist’s studio for Lottie. She was going to do some website design, too, which would hopefully fund her passion for painting that was already returning.
The door slowly opened and in trotted Dave, who, on his third attempt, made it onto the bed, wagging his tail furiously in greeting.
‘You’re awake,’ said Joe, following Dave into the room and putting a cup of tea down on her bedside cabinet as he leaned in to kiss her. It was a slow, sultry kiss. ‘Happy New Year.’
‘Are you coming back to bed?’ They’d spent most of New Year’s Eve in there, with a short interlude for food, showers and a dog walk.
‘No, too busy.’
‘On New Year’s Day?’ She couldn’t hide her disappointment. Now they were back together, she wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.
‘I’ve got a shift at the village stores,’ he said, with a wink.
‘Blimey, you got stitched up there,’ she said, reaching for her cuppa.
‘I asked Shirley if it was opening today because we needed more fizz for later.’
‘Rookie mistake,’ said Lottie, shaking her head.
‘It’s okay. She thinks I’m wonderful because her cat’s arthritis is improving. Did you know Mittens was still alive?’
‘Yep. She feeds her sherry and peanut butter.’ Joe gave her a look that said he didn’t know if she was joking or not.
‘It feels like I’m settling back into the village already,’ he said, and the corners of his lips twitched.
She studied Joe. It still felt like a dream that he was back, and even more so that he was hers. She didn’t know what the future held, but she was damn sure she wasn’t going to waste a minute of it. ‘Come back to bed.’ She gave what she hoped was a sexy pout and not the look of a constipated duck.
He sat on the bed, took her tea off her and put it back on the cabinet. ‘Actually, I’ve got a few more minutes before I have to go.’ He climbed back into bed. ‘And a bit of feedback – that duck face you pull; it does it for me every time.’
Lottie wasn’t expecting to have everyone back at the manor house so soon, but she felt it was time to scatter Nana’s ashes. It had been delayed because, as usual, the family hadn’t been able to agree on what they should do with them. Up until now the manor hadn’t seemed like an option – Lottie couldn’t have left Nana behind, and the thought of bulldozers marauding over her was unbearable. But now she knew Joe was the new owner of the manor and saw it as his forever home it put a different spin on things. He’d even been the one to suggest that Rose’s ashes were scattered there. So that was how they found themselves all back at Henbourne Manor on a bright but cold New Year’s Day.
It was mid-morning and most of the Collins family were sitting around the kitchen table, eating the breakfast Lottie had prepared. Angie was insisting on calling her crushed avocado on toast ‘brunch’.
‘This is amazing, Lottie. Thank you,’ said Scott, tucking in to the same. ‘Is that a hint of fresh chilli?’
‘Yep. I’ve been doing a bit of research into vegan recipes since Christmas, so I’m a bit better prepared today.’
Angie rolled her eyes. ‘You shouldn’t try so hard, Lottie.’
‘I disagree,’ said Scott. Angie almost toppled over, when she spun around to glare at him. ‘I think it’s a lovely quality and I really appreciate it. Thank you.’ Scott gave a sideways nod as if encouraging Angie to add something.
‘She knows I appreciate what she does,’ said Angie.
‘I don’t actually,’ said Lottie.
‘Oh, well …’ Angie pulled at the neck of her dress as if it were suddenly tight. ‘I do appreciate what you do. And brunch is lovely … thank you.’
Lottie could tell it had taken a lot for her mother to compliment her. They would need to take baby steps to build a relationship without Nana.
‘You’re welcome,’ said Lottie.
Scott gave Lottie a warm smile whilst soothing Angie with a one-armed hug. Lottie liked Scott. He handled her mother well, and from the look of adoration on her mother’s face, he did so on a number of levels – many of which she didn’t want to dwell on.
‘And I found your sparkly pen under the armchair.’ She handed it to her mother.
‘Fabulous. My life story is coming on well. I’ve got to the bit where Alejandro seduced me …’ Lottie turned up the radio.
Joe reached past Lottie and, in passing, kissed her neck gently.
‘Oh, hello,’ said Zach, noticing the gesture. ‘What have we missed?’ Emily mouthed I didn’t tell him anything. ‘You knew about this?’ He pointed his bacon sandwich at Emily.
‘There has been the odd phone call,’ said Emily, sipping her orange juice. She and Lottie had been in constant contact since they’d gone home four days ago, so Emily was fully up to speed on developments.
‘Is Joe your boyfriend?’ asked Jessie, liberally squirting ketchup over h
er bacon sandwich before Emily took the bottle away.
Zach was on freeze frame, his bacon sandwich on his lips.
Lottie felt her cheeks flush. ‘Yes. Yes, he is.’
‘Oliver Sadler is my boyfriend,’ said Jessie matter-of-factly, as she replaced the top of her sandwich and squashed it down.
‘What?’ said Zach, completely distracted by Jessie’s confession. ‘You’re too young to have a boyfriend.’
Lottie leaned towards Emily. ‘How did it go with your folks yesterday?’ Emily had been planning on telling her family about the baby news.
‘Good. Actually, really good. Mum is made up about being a grandparent, and my sister was pleased, but not in an “I’ve won” kind of way. She explained that she doesn’t think being a mum is for her and she was worried about letting Mum and Dad down on the grandchildren front. It seems we’ve both been worrying about impressing them when really they’re proud of us both.’
‘That’s brilliant. I’m really pleased for you,’ said Lottie.
They heard voices in the hall and the kitchen was suddenly swamped as Dayea pushed Great Uncle Bernard’s wheelchair into view. ‘Uncle Bernie,’ said Lottie, throwing her arms around him. ‘You look so well.’
‘I’m being thoroughly spoiled,’ he said, with an affectionate look over his shoulder at Dayea, who was smiling broadly behind him.
Nicola and Rhys came into the kitchen. Nicola was wearing the same black outfit she’d worn to the funeral, and Lottie suddenly felt underdressed in her usual jeans and Star Wars sweatshirt. Nicola saw her looking. ‘Oh, don’t mind me. You’re fine. I just didn’t know what to wear to something like this. And I like your hair. It suits you.’ Lottie was surprised by her response but grateful for it. She had dyed her hair pink the day after everyone had left.
Lottie looked past Nicola. There was no sign of Uncle Daniel.
Rhys had his ear buds in, so Lottie tapped him on the shoulder. ‘You okay?’ Lottie asked. He winced at her through narrowed eyes.
‘Bit of a headache. Big night last night.’
‘Bacon sandwich do the trick?’ She pointed to the pile she’d just made.
One Family Christmas: The perfect, cosy, heart-warming read to curl up with this winter Page 33