Jacqueline filled his empty wine glass without asking if he wanted more.
“You’ve never mentioned your father,” said Gardener. “Is he still alive?”
“I haven’t seen him for years. I’ve never forgiven him for the nasty things he said and did after my mother died. He was awful to me. I think he blamed me for her death. He used to shout at me, hit me, criticize me for the slightest thing. Which is how I ended up with a chipped tooth and a broken little finger.” She held her left hand aloft for him to see. “I think he wanted me to take my mother’s place, be everything she was. How could I? I was only ten years old. I could barely make toast, yet he expected his meals to be there.”
“Didn’t your aunt help?”
“I don’t think she was aware of what was going on. He tried to keep a lid on everything. Kept us apart, instead of bringing us together so we could all help each other. He was selfish, manipulative. Sly. He never truly learned to love someone, not even my mother.”
“When did you go and live with your aunt?”
“When I was thirteen. My mother had been dead three years. My father spent too much time at work to notice me. He had nothing but his precious newspaper.”
“He was a journalist?”
“I think he started as a tea boy and worked his way up. The period of time I’m talking about, he was the owner. Don’t ask me how. I’ve no idea where the money came from to buy the newspaper. He always said we were broke. I was never given pocket money. He didn’t seem to trust me with the housekeeping. Can you imagine how embarrassed I was when I needed items of personal hygiene? I couldn’t take any more.”
Jacqueline sat in silence, perhaps composing herself. “He never came to see me. Do you know I never even had a birthday card from him?” Her eyes filled with tears. “So, you see, no mother, no father.”
“It must have been hard.”
“Which is why I looked towards my aunt. She was my mother, in every sense of the word.”
Jacqueline smiled. “My aunt always claimed she had more children than any other woman alive. She’s a walking encyclopaedia on plants. She has them all over the house and calls them her children.”
Gardener laughed loudly. “She should meet my father. They’d get on like a house on fire.”
He finished his wine. Jacqueline fetched another bottle from the kitchen. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“No. But I’m relaxed, I’m enjoying our evening together, and I’d like it to continue.”
He didn’t comment, so she poured another, before asking: “So, your father is a plant man?”
“Oh, you wouldn’t believe
it. He found something he wanted out of life and stuck with it. He inherited the business from his father. Apparently, my grandfather was a workaholic. Ran himself into an early grave. My grandmother took the business on and eventually passed it down to my father. He’s retired now, but you still can’t get him out of the greenhouse. Even in winter!”
“Your father and my aunt should definitely meet.” Jacqueline paused, hesitated before continuing. “When we were laughing earlier, about your father and my aunt being a good match, maybe we are.”
That one comment completely turned his mood. His stomach flipped. His legs weakened.
If he managed to keep his food down, it would be a bonus. It was the one thing he’d been terrified of hearing.
Jacqueline took his hand and stood up. She was obviously expecting him to do the same.
He did, but his emotions were all over the place. Any red-blooded man would have jumped at the chance the minister was offering. But he wasn’t any man.
Her expression grew concerned. “What’s wrong?”
A little over a year had passed since Sarah’s death. He had never allowed his thoughts to stray from her memory. She had meant the world to him. Still did. The situation between him and Jacqueline wasn’t right. She wanted more than he could give.
“Is it me?” she asked.
He had only ever made love to Sarah. She had been his only partner. He simply couldn’t deal with what Jacqueline was asking for.
“No. I’m afraid it’s me. I’m sorry.”
He found his hat and made his exit, leaving Jacqueline alone.