Page 47 of A Sky Full of Stars
Happy to move onto a cheerier subject, Thea grinned at him. ‘Oh, yes? Things going well with Charlotte, then?’
‘Yes. So far, so good… mostly.’ He didn’t want to go into the conversation he’d had with Charlotte yesterday. That was another one to be filed away for when he was ready to deal with it.
Thea, with that sixth sense she always seemed to have for when to push Tristan and when to leave well alone, didn’t choose to comment on the ‘mostly’. ‘Will wonders never cease?’ she teased. ‘Do keep me posted, brother dear, or I’ll be forced to interrogate Gran for the details.’
‘Don’t you dare!’ Tristan grinned back at her. ‘The last thing I need is the third degree from Gran about my love life.’
‘Well, enjoy it while it’s good,’ Thea replied. She gave a melodramatic sigh. ‘I remember those early days of hormones, hearts and flowers. How quickly they give way to dirty socks, farts and arguments over which brand of beans to buy!’
‘Maybe if you’d agreed on the beans, things would have been different,’ Tristan teased, and earned himself a swat with the tea towel Thea was using to dry off the mugs she’d rinsed. Tristan remembered to double check that she’d included a dishwasher on her list of appliances for her new house.
‘Certainly would have helped with the farting!’ she giggled. ‘I wonder if I could have cited that as grounds for divorce, if Carl and I had ever bothered to tie the knot?’
‘And on that cheerful, optimistic note, I’ll leave you to it.’ Tristan found himself still smiling as he walked to his car. Spending time with his sister never failed to cheer him up, and even though what she’d said about Lorelai was nagging at him, it had been nice to speak to her. He resolved, as he always did, to make this a more regular occurrence.
46
All the way home, Tristan pondered what Thea had said about Lorelai’s strange behaviour. He couldn’t just shrug it off. Perhaps it was the recent talk with Charlotte about unearthing information from historic sources that was unsettling him, but he kept turning things over in his head. Sighing, halfway back to his house, he pulled into a side road, turned the car around and headed back to Lower Brambleton. He knew he’d spend the evening worrying if he didn’t swing by Nightshade Cottage, and if, as he hoped, Lorelai was fine, it would also be a good excuse to see if Charlotte was about. He wanted, he needed, to see her again. There was no point trying to dismiss what he was starting to feel for her. If anything, the discussions they’d had yesterday after that weird encounter with her ex had clarified his feelings for her. He wouldn’t have been half so bothered by Todd if he hadn’t been starting to fall for Charlotte. He’d loved spending time with her over the past few weeks, and he wanted to continue seeing her, even when she moved back to Bristol. He really hoped she was feeling the same way.
Pulling into the driveway, he noticed the light on in the annexe, and his heart sped up. He’d definitely knock on the door later. He headed around the back of the house, trying to rehearse how to broach the subject with Lorelai. She could be the most easy-going person in the world, but when the mood took her, she could also be the most stubborn. She wouldn’t take kindly to the suggestion that something was wrong with her memory, and he knew he’d have to handle things carefully.
Reaching the back door that led into the utility room, he paused and peered in. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see. Lorelai was more likely to be settling down in her living room at this time of the evening. He’d intended to give a brisk knock of the door and then go in for a chat. What he saw, however, made him freeze in the act of knocking.
It was as if what Thea had told him was being rewound and replayed, right in front of his eyes. Lorelai was sitting at the kitchen table, with a huge, disorganised pile of paperwork in front of her, frantically rifling through it, and clearly looking for something. She looked agitated, and more stressed than he’d ever seen her. Observing her for a few seconds longer, Tristan’s heart sank. Maybe Thea was right: it looked as though they did have cause for concern.
Gently, not wanting to startle her, he tapped on the windowpane. Lorelai glanced up, and as if a switch had been flipped, her expression changed when she saw him. He pushed open the utility room door and moved quickly into the room, before she could struggle out of the wooden kitchen chair.
‘Hi, Gran,’ he said gently. ‘Don’t get up.’ He pulled out the chair next to her and sat down. ‘What are you looking for?’
Lorelai gestured vaguely to the papers that were strewn over the table. ‘Oh, nothing,’ she said. ‘I was just, er, just hoping to…’ She trailed off in apparent confusion. ‘It can wait. What can I do for you, my darling?’ And there, behind the befuddlement, was his grandmother. Tristan fought an inexplicable urge to burst into tears. He had no idea how long she’d been sitting there, but there was no evidence of her having cooked dinner for herself, or any other signs that she’d been away from the kitchen table.
‘I was just passing,’ he said softly, ‘and I thought I’d see how you were.’
Lorelai smiled knowingly. ‘Making a duty visit to your grandmother before you pop next door to see her tenant?’
Tristan smiled back, feeling more reassured by Lorelai’s tone. ‘Perhaps.’
‘Well, I’m sure Charlotte will be as pleased to see you as I am.’ She reached forward to try to bundle up the papers, but as she did so, several of them fell onto the floor between herself and Tristan. ‘Bugger,’ she muttered, leaning down to retrieve them.
Tristan was swifter. He picked up the fallen documents and couldn’t help but notice some very familiar handwriting on the one nearest to him; handwriting he hadn’t seen for a long time.
‘What is this, Gran?’ he asked carefully. His eyes were drawn to the page he was holding, not just because it was so recognisable, but because the penmanship became sloppier the further down the page it went, as if the writer was in an increasing state of frustration. It was a section of a handwritten letter, but not the beginning of it, and Tristan’s brow furrowed in confusion as he began to read.
‘Just give it back to me, darling,’ Lorelai said quietly, but there was an undercurrent of tension in her voice. ‘It’s something I should have binned years ago. That’s all I was doing now when you came in. It’s nothing important.’
Eyes glued to the page, Tristan ignored his grandmother. In mounting confusion, as the words he was reading began to sink in, he found he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Eventually, he reached the bottom of the page and looked up.
‘This is from Great-Uncle Philip,’ he said softly. ‘I recognise the handwriting. Who’s it written to?’
Lorelai’s silence extended between them. Impatiently, Tristan looked at her, willing her to answer.
‘It’s nothing,’ Lorelai eventually insisted. ‘Just an old love letter to a girlfriend, that’s all. Give it back to me, there’s a love.’
‘I never knew Uncle Phil had a girlfriend. He kept that close to his chest.’ Tristan gave a brief grin, which faded from his face when he saw the expression of unease on Lorelai’s face. ‘Gran… what aren’t you telling me?’ He glanced down at the rest of the papers he’d retrieved from the floor and saw the first page of the letter. Before his grandmother could snatch it back, he began to read. As he did so, the amusement that his uncle might have had a secret girlfriend morphed into something entirely different.
‘Tristan…’ Lorelai said again. ‘Just give them back to me. They don’t concern you.’
Impatiently, Tristan shook his head and continued reading. As he did so, his hands started to shake so badly, he nearly dropped the letter again.
