Page 67 of The Inn on Bluebell Lane
Sarah gave a watery smile and Gwen’s heart expanded with love. How, at her age, could she not have realized her daughter’s hard, prickly shell hid such a soft vulnerability beneath? Just as everyone’s did.
“Sarah, I’m so glad you’ve said all this,” Gwen told her, reaching for her hand again. “You have no idea how much. I should have realized… but blind fool that I am, I didn’t. I thought you were getting on perfectly well by yourself, and you didn’t want or need my interference. Sometimes I felt a bit… left out, I suppose, having no idea that you might feel the same. But the important thing is, I know now, and that makes a huge difference.” She squeezed her daughter’s hand, wanting to imbue her with all her love and affection. “Darling, I want you to be involved. I’d love your input. Your house is so beautiful… I could surely use your decorating skills!”
Sarah made a face. “And what about Ellie?”
“What about her?”
“I don’t feel as if we really get on. And, admittedly, I haven’t made that much effort. I should have, but…” She blew out a breath. “She didn’t seem to want to, with me. I sent her a text yesterday that probably terrified her, but I was so angry and—well, hurt. But she hasn’t seemed particularly interested in getting to know me, or asking for my advice—”
“And that,” Gwen guessed shrewdly, “is what you really wanted?”
“Well…” Sarah let out an abashed laugh. “Yes, I suppose it was.”
Gwen smiled in sympathy. “I think Ellie’s finding her way, but she still feels a bit lost and adrift,” she said quietly. “She’s just made an enormous move, and it takes time to adjust. I know she’d appreciate your friendship, Sarah… your genuine friendship, and not just you showing her how well you know Llandrigg, or all the activities you’re involved in.”
Sarah let out a surprised laugh as she pretended to clutch her chest. “Ouch. You certainly are telling me like it is, aren’t you?”
“Out of love,” Gwen assured her with a smile. “For your sake as well as everyone else’s.”
“So, if I take you to chemo again,” Sarah teased, “I can’t fuss with your pillows?”
“Or bother the nurses,” Gwen returned with a smile. “No, absolutely not. But you can do the crossword with me. Or just sit with me in the quiet, which is what I’d like most of all.”
Sarah’s expression grew serious and a bit teary. “I’d love to do that, Mum.”
Gwen smiled, even as she went a bit teary herself. How was it, she wondered, that it took so much heartache and even tragedy for her family to find their way to each other again? Matthew and Ellie, her and Sarah… she was hopeful that bridges were being mended or even built… and they were stronger than ever before. She longed for that to be true. She was determined to do whatever she could to make it happen.
“Thank you, Sarah,” Gwen told her daughter. “I love you, you know.”
“And I love you.” Sarah let out a laugh as she slapped her knees. “Right, that’s enough mushiness from me! How about a cup of tea?”
Gwen laughed, relieved as she sank back against the pillows. She’d really been worried that she might have fallen out with Sarah in a terrible way. “A cup of tea,” she told her daughter, “would be wonderful.”
CHAPTER 35
JESS
Heathrow Airport was absolutely enormous. And it was heaving with people, everyone seeming as if they were in a very important rush, and they knew exactly where they were going.
Jess clutched her duffel bag to her chest and tried not to look as panicked and frankly terrified as she felt. Her plane left in three hours; it had taken ages to get to the airport, with so many changes, so many busy bus and train stations to navigate, and no one seeming to care about her at all. She felt very small, and very young, and she hadn’t even got on the plane yet.
That morning, she’d texted Sophie, asking her to tell her form tutor that she was at home with a stomach ache. Admittedly, a parent was meant to ring, but Jess hoped that Sophie being a model student would give her some credibility.
It did, because Sophie had told her the form tutor accepted her word, although Sophie herself wasn’t too happy about it.
Where are you? she’d texted. And then, making Jess feel guilty, Are we still friends?
She shouldn’t have ignored Sophie yesterday, she knew. It had been a rotten thing to do, and yet she’d just been feeling so miserable.
Yes, of course we are, she texted back. Sorry about yesterday. I was just really upset.
Where are you? Sophie had texted again.
Just need a day off, Jess had replied, and then she’d switched her phone off. It was better, she decided, if people couldn’t get in touch with her. She didn’t think she could handle any text messages from anyone just now, and she wouldn’t have any idea how to respond to them.
The bus to the train station in Abergavenny hadn’t been so bad, but the train from Abergavenny to London Paddington had been endless, with two changes, in Newport and Bristol Temple Meads. It had been hard enough navigating the stations, finding the platforms; she’d wondered how on earth she was going to manage the airport.
Jess still couldn’t quite believe she’d actually done it. She’d bought a ticket to New York JFK on her mother’s credit card—which had been hundreds and hundreds of pounds!—and the train ticket to London, as well. She’d packed her clothes and managed the bus and train, and she’d even worked up the courage to ask the porter in Paddington how to get to Heathrow.