Christmas at Butterfly Cove. Sarah Bennett
Kiki’s little boy, Matty, the other weekend. Bursting into the room, she pulled up short. A white-faced Kiki clung hard to Mia’s hand whilst their older sister frowned and nodded at something the person on the other end of the phone pressed to her ear was saying.
Kiki glanced up and Nee could see the tear tracks on her cheeks. ‘It’s Mum,’ she whispered.
A wave of relief washed over Nee, followed swiftly by a sharp stab of guilt. Of the three of them, her relationship with Vivian was the most fractured, having never known the kindness and care she’d been capable of before her alcoholism had dug its claws deep. The two women sitting opposite her had, to all intents and purposes, raised her. Given her more than enough love to buffer their mother’s neglect and their father’s indifference. She crossed the room to sit cross-legged on the carpet in front of them, placing a hand on Mia’s knee in silent support.
Kiki leaned towards her. ‘She’s taken a turn for the worse,’ she whispered.
‘What else did the doctor say, Dad?’ They both turned towards Mia, who was staring off into the distance, uttering soothing noises as she listened to George’s response. The curve of her shoulders increased, as though the words she heard had a physical weight to them. Nee patted her leg, wishing there was something she could do to help. Mia sat up straighter, spine going ramrod-straight. ‘Okay. I need to sort a few things out and then I’ll be up first thing.’
Nee closed her eyes. Mia to the rescue, just like always. She dug her fingers into the rich pile of the carpet beneath her. An image of the sitting room, all warm creams and soft browns with splashes of rich red, filled her mind’s eye. She thought about the other rooms, the stylish bedrooms, the cosy warmth of the kitchen, each one a testament to the beautiful home Mia had built from the ashes of her past. Love and laughter infused every corner of the guesthouse. Just a few short weeks since their beautiful wedding, Mia and Daniel should be on their honeymoon, but they’d postponed it to throw all their energies into the guesthouse and studios. They had enough on their plates as it was without facing the prospect of spending time apart so soon.
Decision made, she opened her eyes. ‘I’ll go.’
Luke Spenser tapped on the frame of the kitchen door to get his mother’s attention. She glanced up with a quick smile, then finished sliding the roasting tray into the oven. ‘Beef,’ she said before moving to the sink to rinse her hands, turning her back to him in the process. ‘It’s your brother’s favourite.’
A quick handful of steps carried him to her side, and he leaned down to brush a kiss against her cheek. ‘Thanks, Mum.’
She looked at him through veiled lashes, and he wondered what was going on inside her head. Aaron had been tight-lipped about his visit home a couple of weeks’ previously, other than to say it had gone better than he’d expected. It would take time to bridge the gap between the two of them, but at least they were both trying. And Luke couldn’t ask for any more than that.
When Cathy had called, asking if he’d come down for an early birthday lunch for Aaron, he’d been happy to accept. Happier still when his dad had taken him to one side and told him it had been her suggestion. He squeezed her shoulders in a quick hug, noting the tension in her stiff frame. He kissed her cheek again. ‘I thought I’d take Aaron down the road for a pint. It’ll get us out from under your feet for a bit.’
He didn’t miss the flicker of relief in her eyes. ‘That’ll be nice. I don’t suppose you’ll get much time together now he’s settling down with Kiki.’ There was a hint of a question in her tone, and he wondered whether she knew he hadn’t been back to Butterfly Cove since Mia and Daniel’s wedding. The work to convert the garages into the teashop had been straightforward enough that no one had questioned his absence. Daniel had called him a couple of times to clarify a point with the designs he’d drawn up, and Aaron had brought an album full of photos from the grand opening last weekend.
‘Things are really picking up at work, and now the last of the conversion works are finished, there’s no need for me to visit Butterfly Cove so often.’ He forced a laugh. ‘Besides, although it’s lovely down there in the summer, I’m not sure I fancy staying somewhere so exposed to the elements now the weather’s on the change.’
Cathy reached for a tea towel and dried her hands before turning to face him. ‘It sounds lovely, from what Aaron has told us. I hope to see it one day.’
‘Give it time, okay?’ He knew with things still so delicate between them, Aaron was unlikely to bring the old and new parts of his family together.
His mum tilted her head to one side and studied him carefully. ‘Is that what you’re doing, too? Giving things time?’
Damn it. Aaron must have told them about Nee. He crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Don’t. Okay?’ His tone brooked no argument.
She opened her mouth, caught the glare he threw at her, and closed it again with a nod. She glanced at her watch, breaking the tension between them. ‘I’m aiming for half two for lunch. No crème de menthe.’
Luke shook his head and laughed. ‘You’re never going to let that go, are you?’ His parents had gone away for the weekend, leaving a twelve-year-old Luke in Aaron’s care. With nearly five years between them, his brother had seemed impossibly grown-up. When Aaron snuck a couple of friends round for drinks, Luke hadn’t wanted to miss out. He’d raided the drinks cabinet, a bottle of the mint liqueur the first thing his hand closed around.
Aaron had nursed him through his first, and, to this day, worst hangover, and though shaky, he’d been able to face his parents when they returned on the Sunday evening. Aaron’s hours on hands and knees, scrubbing at the bright-green stain on the peach bathroom carpet, had proven less successful. Despite Luke’s protestations, his big brother had taken the blame. And Cathy had been all too happy to let him. She’d refused to leave them alone in the house for years afterwards, making it clear she couldn’t trust Aaron to be responsible. The fact she could make a joke about it now was little short of a miracle.
Cathy placed her hand on his chest, smoothing a non-existent crease from the front of his navy T-shirt. ‘Your dad and I are here, if you need us.’
He covered her hand with his and gave it a squeeze. ‘I know, Mum. I’m fine, though. It’s water under the bridge.’ Releasing her fingers, he walked away before she could read the lie on his face. His thick, grey hoodie hung over the bottom of the banister, and he shrugged it on as he called up the stairs. ‘Pub?’
‘Pub!’ Aaron’s enthusiastic response was followed by the thunder of footsteps on the landing above. His brother jogged down the stairs, a wide grin on his face. ‘You’re not as thick as you look, are you, Spud?’
‘Wanker.’ Luke aimed a punch at his brother’s arm. Aaron clutched his arm, staggering down the hall with an exaggerated cry of pain.
Their father appeared from the living room with a folded copy of The Sunday Times in his hand. He gave them both a playful swipe with the paper. ‘Silly sods, the pair of you. Don’t be late back, all right?’
Aaron pulled his jacket down from where he’d hung it neatly on a peg. The contrast between the care he took to do everything right and Luke’s own casual disregard struck him anew. Things might be thawing, but it would be a long time before Aaron would feel completely comfortable in what should be the safest of spaces. Luke shrugged off the tinge of melancholy. ‘You coming with us, Dad?’
Brian shook his head. ‘I’ve got a date with a vegetable peeler, and then I’m going to check out the apple trees, see if I can talk your mum into making a crumble for pudding.’ There was a small cluster of fruit trees at the end of the garden, cookers, not eaters.
Luke’s mouth watered at the thought of hot crumble and custard. It was another of Aaron’s favourites and he knew then his dad’s casual comment was to try and play down how much work Cathy was putting into