Page 53 of Sunset at Embthwaite Farm
Anna looked around for Daisy, wondering if she might slip in, but she didn’t see her anywhere. How did the young woman feel, entering this close-knit community as a stranger? It couldn’t be easy.
By four o’clock, everything had wrapped up, and Diana thrust a platter of sandwiches at Anna, insisting they take them home for their dinner, although Anna wasn’t entirely sure any of them wanted to eat prawn salad sandwiches that had been wilting on a tray for the last six hours. She rather thought they’d have a takeaway, but she thanked Diana all the same.
“I don’t know what we would have done without you,” she told her. “In so many ways. You’ve been an absolute rock, Diana.”
“Now, now,” Diana replied briskly, blinking hard. “Don’t set me off. You know where I am if you need me, but I hope you take a few days off, the three of you, to rest and recover.”
“We have the will reading the day after tomorrow,” Anna replied with a grimace. They hadn’t told anyone about the surprising contents of Peter’s will, but she supposed it would become common knowledge soon enough, if it wasn’t already.
“That’s a problem for another day,” Diana replied, giving her a quick hug, and Anna had to agree that it was.
Back at the house, Rachel kicked off her heels with a groan. “I want a bath and then a sleep,” she announced. “For about twelve hours. But first I want a very large glass of wine.”
“I’m happy to go out and get a bottle,” Anna offered, “and a takeaway. Chinese or Indian?” Mathering didn’t have any other options.
“Chinese,” Harriet stated firmly. “And red.” Her expression softened into a smile. “Thanks, Mum.”
It was, Anna reflected, moments like this that made it all worth it. They were together in this, in a way she’d never dared to hope they would be.
On the way into town, she decided, quite suddenly, to stop by Jane’s. She was uncomfortably conscious that she’d never had that talk with Jane, and maybe now she wouldn’t even need to, considering James’s radio silence, but she thought she ought to check in, and maybe she could work up the courage to ask about James, hopefully in a subtle way.
But when Anna pulled up to the house, she saw it was dark, the curtains drawn, and no car parked outside. She rang the doorbell, anyway, and there was no answer. Maybe they’d gone away for the weekend, Anna reflected uneasily. Maybe with James, which was why he hadn’t rung or texted…except even on holiday you had access to your phone, and he hadn’t contacted her for days. Something wasn’t right.
A sudden, chilling thought occurred to her. What if something had happened? What if James was ill or injured or, heaven help her,dead? The thought filled her with dread. That had to be it! He would have contacted her otherwise, she’d known he would have…
Recklessly, her fingers trembling, Anna swiped to dial his number again. Again, she listened to it ring, and then switch over to voicemail.Oh, no…
She was just about to leave a faltering voicemail when her phone buzzed with a text. It was from James, and it was only two words.
I’m sorry.
Anna stared down at those words, trying to figure out what he’d meant, hoping he’d send another text to make it clear, but he didn’t. Several minutes with her standing there in the cold and dark, and there was no further reply, which left her with one unfortunate conclusion.I’m sorryreally meantgoodbye.
She got the takeaway and two bottles of wine, because she had a feeling they’d need them, and then she headed back to Embthwaite Farm, feeling utterly flat.
“That smells amazing,” Rachel remarked as Anna unloaded the cartons of lo mein and lemon chicken onto the kitchen table. “And wine!” She reached for a bottle, only to falter as Anna continued to methodically empty out the takeaway bag. “Mum, what’s wrong?”
“Wrong?” Anna glanced up, forcing her lips to curve into an enquiring if rather brittle smile. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just tired.”
“No, something’s definitely wrong,” Rachel answered as she studied Anna’s face. “You look like someone just died, and I don’t mean Dad.”
Harriet, who had come into the kitchen, let out a huff of laughter. “That shouldnotbe funny, all things considered.”
“Sometimes you just have to laugh, though, don’t you?” Rachel was still studying Anna. “But what is it? Honestly? Have you learned something more?”
“No. That is, not about the farm or Daisy or anything to do with that situation.” She hadn’t, Anna reflected, told her daughters that James even existed. How could she explain how she was feeling now?
And yet…wasn’t that what relationships were meant to be about? Not keeping everything in, saving it for a bloody letter after you’d died! Not putting a stoic face on it all and acting like a martyr when no one was actually asking you to. Maybe it was time to be honest…about everything.
“I’ll tell you,” she told her daughters, “but first I need a glass of wine.”
“Oh, this sounds like a good story,” Rachel replied, her eyes alight although she still looked concerned. “Are we going to get some serious goss?”
“Something like that,” Anna replied on a sigh. “Although unfortunately, it’s over before it even began.”
“What’s over?” Harriet demanded, and so, over plates of Chinese food and very full glasses of wine, Anna told them about James—seeing him at the quiz night, coming across him as her landlord, their day in Stroud and even their kiss.
“I know it probably all sounds ridiculously juvenile,” she finished morosely, “and at my age! But I felt we had a connection, and it’s…” She paused as she sorted through her tangled feelings. “It’s hurtful as well as humiliating, to realise I got it so wrongagain. I let myself believe all sorts of things about a person that weren’t true. I made something out of nothing.” She shook her head as she took a sip of her wine. “At least I didn’t waste twenty years of my life this time. Not,” she amended quickly, “that it was a waste. I have you girls—”
