Page 72 of The Sisters at the Last House Before the Sea

‘I was talking to Gran.’

‘I do that all the time,’ said Isla as Caitlin turned round. ‘It makes me feel better.’

‘Wow!’ Caitlin did a double-take as she took in her sister.

It wasn’t that Isla was wearing the silk dress she remembered on Mum, or the fact that her hair – usually up in a ponytail – was hanging loose over her shoulders. What caught Caitlin’s eye and held her gaze was the glow radiating from Isla’s face. When had her little sister grown up and become so beautiful? she wondered, feeling a deep frisson of regret. She’d missed so much over the last few years. She and Isla had still met occasionally, but there had been an accompanying undercurrent of resentment and guilt that had made both sisters reticent and glum.

When Caitlin left Heaven’s Cove, Isla was an awkward sixteen-year-old, with braces on her teeth and an arsey attitude. She still sported the attitude at times but, in the intervening years, she had turned into a stunning, wonderful woman.

Isla smiled, the candles on the dining table flickering light across her face. ‘What do you think? Wearing Mum’s special dress seemed appropriate for this gathering, seeing as I like to think that Mum and Gran are together again, mother and daughter having a good catch-up in heaven. Do you think Gran would approve of this get-together?’

There was the hint of tears in her eyes and Caitlin stepped closer to her sister. ‘I’m sure she’d love it – the fact that we’re remembering her and honouring her birthday. Even if we can’t, for the life of us, work out that damned riddle she left us.’

Isla laughed. ‘I think Gran would be chuckling at our ineptitude. She always claimed she was better at quizzes and puzzles than me.’

‘And she had to prove it one last time.’

Isla twisted her mouth. ‘Probably.’ She nodded at Caitlin’s dress. ‘You look nice. Really nice.’

‘So do you. Lovely, in fact.’

‘Really?’ Isla’s cheeks flushed pink and she ran a hand down the blue silk that brought out the colour of her eyes, just as it had done with Mum. ‘This dress makes me feel closer to her, you know.’

‘I do know.’

Caitlin grasped her hand and gave it a squeeze – two sisters united in shared memories of the woman they’d lost so long ago.

She released Isla’s hand when Paul walked into the room. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt a family moment.’ He gazed around him and his jaw dropped. ‘Good grief, it looks very different in here. You’ve been busy.’

‘Caitlin has, with Maisie’s help.’

‘Then, well done, Caitlin and Maisie. It’s quite the effort.’

Paul had certainly made an effort. He was wearing a charcoal suit, with a crisp white shirt and a black tie. He looked smart and suave, as if he was going to a wedding – or working as an undertaker, on the quiet.

He walked over to Isla and kissed her on the cheek, then drew back to look at her, his hands on her shoulders. ‘You decided on that dress, then?’ It was said with a smile but Caitlin caught an edge to his tone.

Isla flushed pinker and bent her head. ‘It felt right to wear it for Gran’s birthday meal, seeing as it was once worn by her daughter.’

‘And it suits Isla beautifully, don’t you think?’ interjected Caitlin, giving her sister’s arm a pat in solidarity.

‘Absolutely.’ Paul let go of Isla and began to fiddle with his gold cufflink that was sparking candlelight across the room. ‘It’s just a little low-cut, don’t you think?’

Isla folded her arms self-consciously across her chest as Caitlin studied the neckline of the beautiful dress. It was square, showing off Isla’s long neck and delicate collarbones, but it only grazed the tops of her breasts. The dress was perfectly proper.

‘If you think that’s low-cut, you should see some of Maisie’s T-shirts,’ Caitlin shot back, annoyed with Paul for denting Isla’s confidence. She seemed to have shrunk in stature since his comment. ‘I think the dress is totally fine. Mum always loved it, and I’m sure that Jessie would have approved.’

Isla shot her a grateful smile and went to sit by the fire.

‘Is Maisie joining us?’ asked Paul frostily, glancing at the table, which was set for four.

Caitlin shook her head. ‘No. She was going to but had a last-minute change of heart and decided she’d rather eat in her bedroom. She’s been in touch with a local girl called Beth who’s coming over for a while, which is great. Maisie could do with some company because she’s coping with a lot at the moment.’

A lot that she refused to discuss. Caitlin had tried a few times during the day to engage her stepdaughter in conversation, to check that she was doing all right. But Maisie had insisted that she was ‘totally fine’ and had urged Caitlin not to be so ‘stressy’ about everything.

‘So, who’s the fourth guest?’ asked Paul, obviously not the slightest bit concerned about Maisie’s welfare. ‘Ah.’ His lips pulled into a pout. ‘Our American guest. Of course.’

Caitlin bristled. Ben wasn’t ‘our American guest’ at all because Paul didn’t live here – though she supposed it was only a matter of time now Jessie was gone.

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