Absent in the Spring (The Shakespeare Sisters 3)

And then making sure the bills actually got paid.

Her face screwed up in misery as she thought about those days. They’d all been a little broken back then, trying to live in a world where their mum no longer existed. It was like the solar system without the sun, their sense of gravity had completely disappeared.

‘Been on holiday?’ the driver asked, pulling out of the airport complex. Ah, he was one of those. Lucy wasn’t sure whether to be happy or sad that she couldn’t be left alone with her gloom.

‘Just visiting a friend.’

‘Did you go anywhere nice?’

‘To New York.’ She held on tightly to her box as he put his foot down to beat the lights.

‘Ah, lovely. Took the missis there once, for our anniversary. Did the whole shebang. Statue of Liberty, Empire State Building. Even ate oysters in Grand Central Station. Disgusting little things. Taste like snot.’

She smiled in spite of herself. ‘I managed to avoid the oysters.’

‘It’s a great city, though, isn’t it?’ he continued. ‘One of those places you can visit again and again. I must ask the missis if she wants to go back.’ He steered right, filtering onto the motorway.

‘Yeah, it’s great.’ She stared out of the window at the fields as they drove past them. Patches of green and yellow, with tall hedges dividing them. So different from the concrete jungle she’d just left.

‘Will you go back, do you think?’

If you walk out that door now, don’t bother coming back. His final words echoed in her mind. ‘I’m…’ Frowning, she looked down at the box in her hands. A gift ungiven. ‘I’m not sure.’

Around an hour later he pulled up outside her father’s old house. She took in the imposing red-brick façade, the white criss-cross Georgian windows, the three chimneys jutting proudly from the roof. It looked the same but different. Where once the front path was lined with pretty flowers and hedges, now there were weeds. The paint on the front door was peeling, the glossy black giving way to dull grey wood. But more than that it looked wan and lonely. As empty as she felt.

As he pulled her case out of the back, she checked her phone. No messages. Not from Lachlan, not from her sisters, not even from Lynn at work. It was as though for the hours she was in the air she had ceased to exist. She couldn’t remember the last time somebody didn’t want something from her. Whether it was a sandwich to take to school or a deposition for the court. There was always something she was having to respond to, from the earliest age.

And now. Nothing.

Thanking the driver, she pulled her case up the pathway, ignoring the dirt ingrained in the Victorian tiles. In her right hand she still held that box, gently placing it on the top step as she rooted for her keys to open the door.

She hesitated for a moment, as metal slid into metal, not quite willing to make the turn that would unleash all those emotions again. Standing on that porch, she felt heavy, like a ton of weight was pressing down on her shoulders. The same weight she’d managed to forget about when she was in New York with Lachlan.

She was about to turn the key when the door was wrenched open. Standing on the other side of the threshold was her sister. Cesca looked smaller than Lucy remembered, more delicate, too. Like a tropical flower you needed to protect from the cold, harsh winter.

‘Hey.’ Lucy gave her sister a half-smile. ‘I’m home.’

Cesca stared at her, saying nothing. Her tongue peeked out to moisten her lips. Lucy watched as she inhaled, breathing in through her nose, then slowly breathing out, her mouth pursed.

‘I’m sorry,’ Lucy whispered. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘I’ll make us a cup of tea.’ Cesca turned on her heel and walked back up the hallway to the kitchen, leaving Lucy to follow with her case and her box. She left them at the bottom of the stairs, before kicking off her shoes, and padding back to her sister in her sock-covered feet.

‘Have you had something to eat?’ Cesca asked. ‘I’m pretty sure Sam bought some food yesterday. I haven’t eaten anything, I’m not very hungry.’

Lucy shook her head. She came to a stop next to the old kitchen table, and curled her hands around the top of one of the chairs. ‘I’m not hungry either.’ She traced a crack in the wood with the pad of her thumb. ‘I wasn’t sure you’d still be here.’

Cesca filled the old, metal kettle, then put it on the hob, lighting up one of the gas burners. ‘We fly back to LA tomorrow,’ she said, pulling her hand away quickly when a flame flickered up. ‘I don’t know why Dad couldn’t just have an electric kettle like everybody else.’

‘I don’t suppose it matters now,’ Lucy said. ‘It’s not like he’s coming back. We don’t have to worry about him burning the house down any more.’

Cesca sniffed, then turned her back to Lucy, reaching up in the cupboard for some mugs. When she spun back round, her eyes were glinting in the early-morning sun. ‘Why didn’t you tell us?’

Lucy opened her mouth to speak, but none of the usual excuses appeared. She’d had half a day to think of all her reasons, but every time she tried to pin them down they seemed to disappear like smoke into the air. ‘I don’t know,’ she finally said, pulling the chair out and sitting in it. She rested her elbows on the table, dropping her forehead into her hands. ‘It just seemed like the right thing to do. I don’t know how much you remember, Cess, but things were crazy back then.’

‘It’s no excuse. You’ve had years to tell the truth. And yet you’ve kept it from us for all that time. You were supposed to be our sister. We were supposed to be a family.’

‘We are a family,’ Lucy said firmly, looking up from the palm of her hands. ‘And it got harder as time went on. When would have been a good time to get you all together and announce, “Mum was having an affair, and I found out just before she died”? At Juliet’s wedding? Before Kitty moved to LA? Or maybe I should have done it at your premiere? There was no good time.’ She sighed, knowing how ineffective her words were. They sounded stupid even to her own ears. ‘Please sit down, Cess. Let me make the tea.’