Page 72 of A December to Remember
“He was a very smart man,” Star agreed.
“Knowledge is like catnip for my mother.”
“And here we both are. Unlikely sisters.”
Simone smiled at her baby sister. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there that summer.”
Star was quiet for a moment. “Thank you.”
“I was trying to figure out what I was doing that year that kept me from coming to Rowan Thorp. And the answer is not very satisfactory. I wasn’t doing anything much, hanging out with friends and going to parties, nothing that was worth leaving you to go through that on your own.” She bit her lip as though considering whether to go on. “I know that you tried to reach out to me. I remember my mum saying you’d called the house and I didn’t call you back. I was feeling guilty about not coming down and I didn’t want to have to talk to you because I knew I’d feel worse. And now I feelreallybad. If only I’d not been so selfish.”
This was an unexpected admission from her sister. She hadn’t meant to make her feel bad; she’d only wanted her to understand that she was serious about her offer.
“It’s in the past. Looking back, I can see why you wouldn’t want to come down.”
“It must have been frightening.”
“Yeah. I was terrified.” Star gave a little half laugh, to lessen the awfulness. “I’d so hoped you’d be there; I knew you and Maggie would help me. And when you weren’t...” She’d felt so lost. That whole summer had a nightmarish quality to it. “Well, it all turned out in the end. Luckily I was only six or seven weeks gone, so it was very straightforward. It could have been a lot worse.”
Simone pursed her lips. “And Perdita never knew?”
“No. She wasn’t neglectful, exactly; she is a very loving person, she just wasn’t very present. She never would have coped.”
“Shewouldn’t have coped? You were just a kid! You deserved better.”
Star shrugged. Laying blame never solved anything.
They sat for a while in companiable silence as they crawled along behind the tractor. This was new. Simone and Star were only usually silent with each other because they’d had a fallingout or simply had nothing to say to each other, nice or otherwise. Star couldn’t remember a time since childhood when they had been simply happy to sit quietly and enjoy being together. It was nice. Peaceful. She sent a little prayer of thanks to the universe.
31
It was thethirteenth of December—unlucky for some, which was rather how Patrick felt when he was woken by Maggie that morning. She had entered his bedroom, proffering hot tea and using the voice she reserved for when she was going to ask him to do something he didn’t want to do.
“You want me to do what?” His hair was mussed, and his eyes puffed with sleep. Maggie suspected he’d had another heavy night with his old school friends.
“Dig a pit in Granddad’s garden.”
“Have you killed someone?”
“Not yet.”
“What day is it?”
“Thursday. Why does this matter? Are you unable to dig pits on Thursdays? Or do you have a pressing engagement?”
“Ugh! I hate it when you’re so chirpy in the mornings.”
“I’ll try to be meaner. We need a pit dug before we start laying the bonfire wood in it. I am reliably informed by Milton and Harini, our resident fire-safety experts, that this is an important measure. They’re going to supervise you. I’ve been over there this morning, and they’ve already measured it all out for you.”
Rowan Thorp possessed one retired firefighter, Milton—Doreen’s husband—and one Harini, who worked full-time as manager of the post office and also part-time as a firefighter for the surrounding rural areas.
“Arrrghh,” Patrick groaned dramatically. “Why me?”
“Because you’re young and haven’t yet slipped any discs in your spine or recently had a gallstone removed. Please, love. I really can’t have Milton and Harini digging holes with their various ailments.”
He rolled over in bed and pulled his head under the duvet.
“Make Joe do it, and I’ll help you out in the shop,” he mumbled.
