Just Like the Other Girls(26)

‘I’ve got to get to work,’ she says. ‘Please excuse me.’ She smiles at me stiffly and plants an obligatory kiss on her mother’s cheek before disappearing out of the room. Nobody speaks until her footsteps have receded and we hear the front door close behind her. Then the three of us take a collective breath as the tension in the kitchen eases. Aggie joins us for breakfast and we spend the next half-hour talking about neutral subjects, mainly Aggie’s pregnant daughter, who’s married to a vicar and lives in a village outside Bristol. She’s got a two-year-old boy whom Aggie dotes on. Elspeth sits back in her chair, relaxed for once, an indulgent smile on her face as Aggie describes her grandson’s visit to the zoo at the weekend.

Just as I begin to feel at ease for the first time that morning, Aggie has to go and ruin it. ‘Who was that handsome young man I saw you with last night, then?’ she says, helping herself to some toast and plastering it with butter.

Elspeth turns to face me, her eyes cool. ‘Who’s this?’

It was gone eleven thirty when I arrived home with Vince. What was Aggie doing here this late? She doesn’t live in. ‘Oh, an old boyfriend. He just walked me home.’

‘An old boyfriend, eh?’ laughs Aggie, winking at me. I can feel the blood rushing to my face. ‘He’s a bit of a dish. Is a reconciliation on the cards?’

‘We’re never getting back together,’ I insist, even though Elspeth is dabbing the corners of her mouth with her napkin, no longer looking in my direction, as though she couldn’t care less what I do. ‘He … well, he stole from me.’

Elspeth’s eyes soften as she turns to me. ‘Stole from you?’

‘He used my credit card to buy some expensive amp equipment without telling me. I only found out when the credit-card company wrote to me to tell me I’d exceeded my limit.’ I don’t mention the row or how he’d pinned me against the wall by my throat.

Aggie tuts. ‘That’s awful. I’m sorry, pet.’

‘He’s paying me back. But I can never trust him.’

Elspeth reaches over and places her hand on mine. ‘No, you’d never be able to trust him again. It was a wicked thing for him to do. You deserve better.’

To my shame my eyes fill with tears. It’s the sort of thing I’d longed to hear from my mum, but she’d already died when I found out what Vince had done. I’d felt so alone, with nobody to turn to, apart from Courtney. And now Elspeth and Aggie are comforting me, showing me that I’m worth more, that they’re on my side.

Elspeth has a lot of appointments today. First I have to accompany her to the doctor’s, which is only a five-minute walk away. ‘Just for a check-up,’ she says, squeezing my hand as though to assure me that she’s not about to croak it at any minute, and then to a tailor to get a ripped lining mended. She walks slowly, clutching my arm, so by the time we’ve performed these errands and taken a detour to the florist to pick up some flowers – ‘It’s so important to have fresh flowers about the place, don’t you think, dear?’ – it’s nearly midday when we get home.

Elspeth says she’d like to rest before lunch so I help her into bed, close the curtains and retreat to the kitchen where I know I’ll find Aggie. I’ve been hoping to bump into Lewis but I haven’t seen him all day, although I did notice his abandoned wheelbarrow overturned in the garden. I wonder if he’ll be back after his row with Elspeth yesterday.

‘Would you like a cup of tea, pet?’ asks Aggie, as I offer to help cut up carrots for the stew she’s making for dinner.

‘Yes, please.’ This is my favourite time of day, when Elspeth is having a nap and I can sit in the cosy kitchen with Aggie and have a chat. I’ve been desperate to ask her about Matilde and Jemima.

‘What do you think about Jemima?’ I ask, as I slice a carrot. Aggie is chopping an onion and has to keep wiping her eyes.

‘Shocked. She didn’t seem the kind of girl to take her own life.’

‘Did you think she was depressed?’

‘Not at all. She was a chirpy little thing. Always going about the place singing. You know …’ She swipes at her eyes again. They’re streaming. ‘Sorry. Bloody onions. They get me every time.’

My mum used to be the same. ‘Here,’ I say, taking the knife out of her hand. ‘Let me do it. They don’t make me cry. Maybe because I wear contacts.’

She sniffs, ‘Oh, you are a lamb,’ and we swap jobs.

‘What were you about to say?’ I probe, as I cut into the onion.

‘What? Oh, yes. I was just going to say that you remind me of Jemima.’

‘Really? In what way?’ I think of the photograph in the locket. ‘Do you mean in looks?’

‘Yes, but also personality. You’re both bubbly, easygoing. Happy. You brighten up the place. I can see why Elspeth likes having a young companion. Especially as Kathryn can be so –’ She stops herself as if suddenly remembering where her loyalties lie. ‘Kathryn is a good person, just more reserved, that’s all.’

I don’t say anything but concentrate on chopping the onions into small cubes as instructed.

‘And she worries about Elspeth. It’d been just the two of them for years before she decided to employ Matilde.’