Absent in the Spring (The Shakespeare Sisters 3)

‘Of course it matters,’ Cesca wailed. ‘Everything I thought I knew is a lie.’

Lucy covered her mouth to stifle her own sob. Her chest hitched, feeling painfully constricted when she tried to inhale some air. She felt dizzy, as though everything in the room was slanted – only to realise it was her that was half-falling to the floor.

‘No, honey, no. That’s not true.’ She closed her eyes, seeing her mother’s face, the moment before she crashed into that van.

‘Why should I believe a word you say?’ Cesca asked her, her voice still wavering. ‘You’ve been lying to us for years. What else have you been hiding, Lucy? What else have you been telling lies about?’

‘Nothing.’ Her breath came out in shallow bursts. ‘I promise, that’s all there is. I didn’t want you to be hurt.’

‘So you lied instead?’

‘I just didn’t tell you about it.’ She rubbed her palm over her face, feeling the wetness of her tears against her skin. ‘Please, Cesca, let me explain.’ Shaking her head, Lucy bit her lip, trying to calm herself down. She felt jittery and high, as though she couldn’t quite hold on to her thoughts. They were racing around her brain like it was an Indy 500 track.

‘No, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t believe a bloody word you say. I don’t want to talk to you.’

‘Please don’t hang up!’ Lucy begged. ‘Cesca, listen, it’s not like —’

But the connection was gone. Lucy looked down at the white robe she was wearing, and at the thousand-count bed sheet she was sitting on. What the hell was happening? She dialled her sister back, but the phone just kept ringing.

With shaking hands she scrolled through her contacts, calling up Juliet’s number. Almost immediately it clicked through to voicemail. Either her phone was turned off or Cesca was calling her right now. Both filled Lucy with a sense of foreboding.

‘Juliet, can you call me when you get this?’ That was all she managed to get out before she choked back another sob. God, she needed to get a grip. Still holding her phone she thought about calling Kitty in LA, asking her not to speak to any of their sisters until Lucy had a chance for damage control. But she knew Kitty too well – she was as curious as the rest of them. She’d be phoning Cesca and Juliet like a shot.

Lucy lay back on the bed, her hair dampening the sheets, staining them a darker shade. Staring at the whitewashed ceiling, she shook her head, trying to get things straight in her mind. But nothing was making sense. She couldn’t even remember why she’d lied to them for so long – how the hell could she explain it when she didn’t even understand it herself?

Frowning, she sat up, tucking her knees beneath her chin. Think, Lucy, think. She took a deep breath in, as much to calm her racing heart as anything else. But the memory of Cesca’s cries, her accusations, were like little jabs of adrenalin, sending her pulse racing as she recalled her sister’s rejection.

I don’t want to talk to you.

But she had to, didn’t she? Cesca couldn’t ignore her for ever. Somehow Lucy had to make her understand. She’d tried to protect them, to keep the family together, to make sure they still had a father, a home, a life together.

She lied because she loved them.

With her arms wrapped around her knees, she rocked back and forward in a soothing movement. Everything was going to be okay. She’d make it all okay – she’d done it before, after all, and she could do it again. They were family, and that was all that mattered.

Lachlan plastered a fake smile on his face and called the waiter over, trying to ignore the empty chair beside him. Jurgen and Klaus were already in good spirits, half a bottle in to the fine wine they’d ordered, and neither of them noticed the way he kept sliding his gaze to the restaurant door.

Where the hell was she?

‘Yes, sir?’ the waiter asked. ‘Would you like to wait for your guest, or are you ready to order?’

‘We’ll order now,’ he said, nodding at Jurgen and Klaus. ‘That’s if you two are ready, of course.’

‘Sure.’ Jurgen grinned, his face flushed from a glass of wine on an empty stomach. Combined with jet lag it was lethal. He started to go through the menu with the waiter, as Lachlan tuned his voice out, checking his phone under the table to see if she’d returned his message.

Nothing.

He wasn’t sure whether he was annoyed or worried. It wasn’t like Lucy to be late for anything.

‘I need to make a quick phone call,’ he told Jurgen and Klaus after the three of them had ordered. ‘Will you excuse me for a minute?’

‘No problem,’ Klaus said, nodding as Lachlan stood up.

As soon as he was in the lobby, Lachlan called her number. Straight to voicemail, damn it. Then he called the apartment phone, but it kept ringing until the dial tone made his head ache. Biting down his frustration, he called the front desk.

‘Mr MacLeish, what can we do for you?’ The concierge answered straight away.

‘Do you know if Miss Shakespeare has left the apartment?’ he asked. ‘Did the car arrive okay?’