by Susan Lewis
Andee smiled. “It’s good to hear you talking about Kian and Daisy. I wondered if you were able to.”
“I’m not, usually.”
Andee nodded her understanding. “The text you just mentioned, that Daisy received from Amelia after running into her at the gym, did you ever see it?”
Jules thought. “No, I don’t think so. I only remember Daisy saying it was sweet. Actually, most of her texts were, until they started to seem…” She shook her head, not quite sure how to express it. “Something I remember very clearly—I don’t know if I told you this before, but it was the first time she came to the pub. Not as a child, with her parents, but as a friend of Daisy’s. It was really quite…odd.”
—
“Mum!” Daisy shouted down the stairs. “Amelia’s just arrived. Can you send her up when she comes in?”
Glancing up from the new iPad ordering system she was testing at the bar, Jules looked out of the window and spotted a young woman coming across the garden with a large bag clutched closely to her chest. Since her head was down, her face was masked by the fall of her mousy hair, but it was plain to see, in spite of her voluminous brown coat, that she was neither tall nor particularly slender.
To Jules’s surprise as she reached the door—open for Kian to bring in logs—it suddenly slammed shut in her face.
Wondering where on earth the gust had come from, Jules hurried to let her in. “I’m sorry, there’s usually a doorstop there,” she apologized, ushering the girl inside. “Are you OK?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” she answered, tucking her hair behind one ear and seeming less interested in being abruptly shut out than in studying her surroundings.
Jules watched her lichen-green eyes, set slightly too close together and fringed by pale lashes and eyebrows. Her complexion was fair and freckled, her cheekbones prominent, and her mouth wide and delicate.
“This isn’t how I remember it,” Amelia murmured, sounding vaguely piqued.
“There have been some changes since you were last here,” Jules told her with a smile. “How are you, Amelia? I’m Jules, Daisy’s mum.”
As Amelia’s eyes came to hers bearing not even the hint of a smile, Jules was reminded of the three-year-old child who’d been hit in the face by the table-skittles ball.
“You’re not like I remember you either,” Amelia stated, making it neither an insult nor a compliment, “but I guess I only saw you a couple of times.”
“And you were so young I’m surprised you remember me at all. Have you been living in London all this time?”
Amelia nodded. “Sort of,” she replied, looking around again. “In my mind this place was bigger and darker….I remember the fireplace. I had a dream once that I fell into it.”
Startled, Jules said, “Well, I hope the fire wasn’t lit at the time.”
Amelia frowned, apparently taking the poor joke seriously. “I can’t remember, but it was a weird dream to have. I think Daisy pushed me in, but it could have been anyone.”
Not quite sure how to respond to that, Jules said, “So, what a coincidence you running into Daisy at the gym. Have you been a member there for long?”
“No, I just joined a few weeks ago. You belong too, don’t you?”
Assuming Daisy must have mentioned it, Jules said, “I do, but I don’t manage to go anywhere near as often as I’d like.” The sudden eruption of angry voices upstairs made them both glance at the ceiling.
“That’ll be Stephie and Dean.” Jules smiled fondly. “Don’t worry, it’ll all be over before you get there.”
“I’m not worried,” Amelia assured her.
With slightly raised eyebrows Jules walked the girl toward the bar.
“So how are your parents?” she asked. “It’s been a very long time since I last saw them.”
“Daddy’s fine, thank you,” came the airy reply. “Always busy, so I don’t get to see him much. I’m afraid I can’t tell you about Mummy; she left us when I was about nine and she’s never been in touch since.”
Stunned, as much by the girl’s apparent indifference as by the news itself, Jules said, “I’m sorry to hear that. Do you know where she is now?”
Amelia shrugged. “I guess she doesn’t want to be found.” She was still looking around the bar, apparently inspecting it for only she knew what. “Who did the paintings?” she asked. “They’re quite good.”
“They’re all by local artists,” Jules told her. “Daisy, Stephie, and Dean put on a couple of exhibitions each year, usually at the town hall, and those that don’t sell are given a few months on display here.”
Amelia nodded. “She’s got some sort of theater company, hasn’t she? I saw the sign as I drove in: the Hope Cove Performing Arts Society.”
“It’s not just theater,” Jules replied. “They make a lot of films as well, and stage concerts and dances and charity events. There’s not much they aren’t into.”
Amelia nodded again. “Sweet,” she murmured, turning around as the pub door opened.
Seeing Tina, Stephie’s mother, Jules lit up with relief—she’d worked hard enough with this girl for one day and was happy to be rescued. “Tina, meet Amelia,” she announced cheerfully as the plump, pretty redhead finished a call. “Amelia, this is Stephie’s mother.”
“Nice to meet you, Amelia.” Tina smiled warmly. “Are you new around here?”
“Not really,” Amelia replied.
Catching Tina’s surprise at the shortness, Jules said to Amelia, “Well, I expect you want to go and join the others now. It’s lovely seeing you again. Just follow the sound of voices and you’ll find them.”
Amelia glanced at the stairs. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “It’s lovely seeing you again too, Mrs. Bright.”
“Oh, please call me Jules. Everyone does.”
“Jules,” Amelia repeated, as though finding the name unusual. Tossing her hair over one shoulder, she wandered off in the direction she was being shown.
—
“So why did you find it odd?” Andee asked curiously as she put down her coffee. “I mean, from what you’ve just described, I can think of several ways in which it qualifies, but I’m interested to hear what you have to say.”
“Well, to begin with, it was the door slamming in her face as she arrived,” Jules replied. “There was no wind that day, not a breath of it, and no one came out of the kitchen to cause a draft, but if you’d heard the slam…It was hard enough to rattle the windows. It wasn’t until later that I wondered if it was Ruby, and I think it probably was.”
Andee frowned. “Ruby?”
In a sardonic tone, Jules said, “Ruby the ghost. She lived with us the entire time we were at the pub.”
Surprised, but apparently deciding to go with it, Andee asked, “So why did you think it was her?”
Jules shrugged. “It was just a feeling….Actually, I sometimes wonder if she was behind another incident, years before, when a table-skittles ball seemed to acquire a life of its own and hit Amelia in the face. OK, I know how crazy it sounds, but I keep wondering if Ruby was able to sense something about the girl that the rest of us couldn’t. Although, I have to admit, I could never warm to her, even as a child. She was spoiled rotten, that much was clear, but not in a normal, loving way, more in a give-her-anything-and-shut-her-up kind of way, and there was a look about her…Well, all I can say is, think Chucky.”
Andee’s eyebrows shot up.
“OK, she wasn’t ugly like that,” Jules admitted. “She was just colorless, and she stared like she was seeing right through you and thinking horrible thoughts. Really strange for a girl of that age.”
Andee didn’t disagree. “Were there any other Ruby-type incidents?” she wondered.
Jules nodded slowly. “Actually, there was one, after the door slam at the pub, when she came to have lunch with us one Sunday and a jug of scalding hot gravy ended up in her lap. She was so angry I thought she was going to smash the jug against the wall, or even throw it at someone. If she
’d known who to blame, she might have, but even if not all ghosts are invisible, which was what she once said to Daisy, Ruby is.”
After a while, Andee said, “So do you think it was a coincidence, her running into Daisy at the gym?”
Jules shook her head. “No, I don’t, but whether she had any specific plans in mind when she first came back, I’ve no idea. Nor can I tell you why she decided to come when she did. There must have been ample opportunities to befriend Daisy over the years, presuming she was visiting Crofton Park with her father. If she did, we never saw them, and when she did start coming to the pub, after meeting up with Daisy, she almost never talked about her father or anything else to do with her life.”
“But you know now that she’d been asked to leave several schools, junior and senior, and that she’d always had a problem making or keeping friends?”
“Oh, yes, we know that now. Actually, I knew it before, because her mother told me back when Amelia was no older than seven. Then it turned out that Stephie’s cousin was at one of the schools Amelia had been excluded from and she had plenty of stories about the kind of things the girl got up to. They were horrible, even cruel, some of them, especially where small animals or even birds were concerned. She’d use their innards or beaks or tails to play sick jokes on other children. And apparently she had a very divisive nature, you know, always trying to come between friends, making up lies about people and trying to turn them against one another. When Stephie told me all this, she and I, Dean too, tried to persuade Daisy to stop seeing the girl, but Daisy wouldn’t listen. She felt sorry for her and kept insisting that we’d all be different and even a bit weird if we didn’t have parents who loved us or friends who cared.” As tears welled in Jules’s eyes, Andee reached over to squeeze her hand.
“I’m sorry,” Andee whispered. “I didn’t mean to put you through it all again.”
Jules shook her head. “I’m fine,” she assured her. “It’s not like I don’t think about it every minute of every day, seeing, knowing what I should have done differently, wishing to God that I had…”
After a while, Andee asked, “When did you find out the truth about her mother?”
Jules’s eyes went down. “At the same time that everyone else did,” she replied, “but it made no difference. It was too late by then, and I’ve heard other rumors since, that…” She took a breath. “Let’s just say it wouldn’t surprise me if they’re true.” She looked at Andee. “Have you heard them?”
Andee nodded. “And like you, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re true.”
With a sigh, Jules said, “I had the urge once to send Olivia Quentin details about the women’s refuge. I wish I had; things might have turned out very differently if she’d come to us.”
“They might have, but you don’t know that for certain, so I hope you’re not blaming yourself.”
“Not blaming, exactly, but it goes to show how important it is to act on worthy instincts, even if you end up being told to mind your own business.”
Conceding the point, Andee said, “So Stephie and Dean didn’t like the girl?”
“None of Daisy’s friends did. It was only Daisy who had time for her.”
“What about Joe? What did he think of her?”
“The same as the rest of us, although obviously he saw a lot less of her. He definitely took against her when she started trying to come between him and Daisy. The way she did that…” Jules shuddered. “We should have done something about her then. We tried, of course, but there was never any changing Daisy’s mind about someone she saw as an underdog, and as far as she was concerned Amelia was absolutely that.”
—
“Mum, look at this,” Daisy said, passing over her phone to Jules.
Wiping her hands, Jules took the mobile and frowned at the photo that had come with a text saying, What do you think?
“Is that Amelia?” Jules asked, knowing it was and wishing it wasn’t.
“She’s had her hair cut and colored just like mine,” Daisy stated in a mock how-lovely sort of way. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or spooked.”
Knowing exactly how she felt, Jules said, “Well, at least it suits her, sort of.”
Daisy took the phone back. “I’ll tell her you said that. She always likes to know what you think.”
Hoping that wasn’t true, Jules carried on with the evening meal she was preparing, expecting to be asked at any minute if Amelia could join them, and wishing she could think of a way to say no that wouldn’t earn her a lecture from Daisy on how important it was to be openhearted and tolerant.
“Ah, here she is again,” Daisy declared, opening up a new text. “ ‘Your mum’s so lovely. Please tell her thank you for what she said. You’re very lucky to have her.’ ”
Covering her real feelings with a twinkle, Jules said, “And don’t you forget it, young lady.”
“As if you’d ever let me,” Daisy shot back. Putting the phone down, she returned to her iPad to carry on instant-messaging with Joe. “Oh no,” she groaned, “he’s having to change his flight and come later, because of a flaming football game.”
Only half listening, Jules said, “Is that such a disaster?”
“It is for us. We don’t get to spend enough time together as it is. I really miss him when he’s not here.” Picking up the phone as it bleeped with another text, she said, “Amelia again. ‘Did you get my last message? Just wondering because I haven’t heard back.’ ” She sighed wearily. “What does she want me to say?”
Jules popped a leg of lamb in the oven. It was the middle of a sunny Saturday afternoon in October, with only a few customers left over from a hectic lunchtime downstairs and a group of fortysomething ladies starting to turn up for a birthday tea in the library. Later, with a local jazz band due to play in the function room and most of the pub tables booked out for one of Marco’s special Italian evenings, Jules, Kian, and Daisy had all offered to help out where they were most needed.
Reading another text, Daisy said, “Oh, that’s brilliant. Stephie’s saying she can come and lend a hand tonight if we need her, and she’s pretty sure Dean will be able to get away too.”
“Angels, the pair of them.” Jules smiled. “Talk to Misty—I’m sure she’ll jump at the offer.”
A few minutes later Daisy said, “OK, so I’ve told Amelia that I know how lucky I am to have such a fabulous mum and I’m really happy to share you. Would you like to have her as a daughter?”
Jules’s eyebrows rose.
Daisy swallowed a laugh. “You are so transparent, and mean. Poor Amelia doesn’t have anyone.”
“Let’s not go there again. I’m afraid I can’t feel as sorry for the girl as you do, which probably makes me a really wicked person, but I never claimed to be a saint. Now, when exactly is Joe arriving, so Dad or I can schedule in an airport run?”
“He’s going to let me know as soon as the flights are confirmed.”
Looking up from her supper preparations, Jules realized Daisy was watching her, head propped on her hands. “What?” she prompted.
“I’m just thinking.”
“About anything in particular?”
“Well, yes, I guess so. I mean, you know me and Joe are going to end up together, right?”
Jules cocked an eyebrow. “I kind of had a feeling.”
Smiling, Daisy said, “The trouble is, I don’t know if I want to go and live in the States. I mean, I do, obviously, to be with him, but it’s going to mean leaving you and Dad and the grannies and everyone…” As tears filled her eyes Jules went to embrace her.
“You don’t have to make any decisions yet,” she reminded her. “There’s plenty of time.”
“Except there isn’t. I mean, I already know I want to go to uni here, either in Bristol or Exeter, which means I’ve already chosen you and Dad over him, and I feel so bad about it because I know he was really hoping I’d try to get into the same uni as him.”
“I’m sure he understands that yo
u don’t feel ready to leave your roots yet.”
“Of course he does. You know what he’s like, he understands everything and never puts on any pressure, but I know he’s afraid that I’ll end up not wanting to leave England at all.”
“Then maybe he could come here when he’s got his degree?”
Daisy shook her head. “We’ve talked about that, but the law’s different here, so his qualifications wouldn’t work, and anyway he’d never get the kind of high-powered job in Britain that he would in the States.”
“If he was in London he might.”
“But his dad’s got loads of connections over there that could help him get started with a really big firm.”
Of course Nicholas would have.
Since Daisy was still looking torn, Jules said, “Listen, you’ll work something out when you have to. And in the meantime you shouldn’t get upset about it. Dad and I understand that you’ll be leaving the nest one of these days, and it’s only right that you should.” She didn’t add that it was going to break their hearts and suck all the life out of their home when it happened; that was a truth, a dread, Daisy never needed to know.
Gazing up into her eyes, Daisy said, “I can’t imagine ever wanting to leave you.”
Feeling the words curling lovingly around her heart, Jules smiled as she said, “That’s because you’re still only seventeen and the time hasn’t come for you to leave yet. When it does, believe me, it’ll feel right, and Dad and I will support you in whatever you decide.”
With a twinkle Daisy said, “It’s no wonder all my friends would love to have you two as parents. You’re so cool and wise and easygoing and crazy—that’s Dad, obviously, although he’s not as crazy as he used to be, is he? I mean, he’s still like really out there, and he gets involved in everything we do, but…” She shrugged. “He’s kind of different in a way. Still the best dad in the entire world, but different.”
Knowing she was to blame for the way a light had gone out in Kian four years ago, Jules turned away to hide her guilt and dismay. She might never have told him how she’d betrayed him, but he obviously knew that something had changed between them, and because of it the light he’d lost then had never really come back again.