The Things I Know(92)

‘It’s possible, Thomasina. A few days to think. That doesn’t sound unreasonable.’ He winked at her, her lovely dad.

The sudden bang of the back door against the wall took them all by surprise, shattering the calm. Her cousin Emery stood in the doorway, with his knack for ruining the loveliest of moments. She saw Grayson stiffen and her mum put her cup firmly on the table. Thomasina had forgotten just how much she disliked the very sight of him.

‘What can we do for you, Emery?’ Pops asked calmly. It seemed that nothing could spoil his day.

‘I just heard from Thurston that the farm is nearly theirs.’

‘That’s right,’ her dad said. ‘Nearly, in a few weeks, give or take.’

‘So I thought I’d come and . . .’ Emery swallowed, his confidence seemingly evaporated.

All four stared at him.

‘We . . . we are family,’ he managed.

‘Yes, Emery,’ Pops said with a nod, ‘we are family. And you are a Waycott and have contributed your own blood and sweat to keeping this farm running in some of its darkest times. And I appreciate all your hard work – it’s not an easy life, not at all – but how dare you call my little girl names? How dare you make her feel scared or sad in her own home? You think that’s what family does? You think that’s nice or fair?’

She had never heard her dad so threatening or so earnest and her heart flexed with love for him.

Emery shook his head and looked at the floor. ‘I’m sorry, Thomasina.’

She stared at him, unable to forgive him, not when the hurt still ran deep, and chose to say nothing.

‘I’ve been up at the Buttermores’ for a while now, and it’s . . . it’s different.’ His voice was uncharacteristically small, his shoulders hunched.

‘What’s different?’ her dad asked, a little more settled now.

‘I’m an outsider, not family, and now I’ll be coming back to Waycott but working for them, and it’s made me think that my great-great-grandparents built this house.’

She looked at the brute, amazed he was on her wavelength, but not liking him any more for it. Maybe spending time with another family had made Emery realise just how good he had had it here.

‘Yes, they did’ – her dad paused – ‘but it’s only bricks and stones, Emery. Home is where your family is, and it’ll be good for you working here with all the investment the Buttermores can make. Remember, lad, this building and this land will be here long after we have all gone.’

Emery nodded. ‘And I wanted to say I’m sorry, Change Pur—’

‘Grayson!’

‘My name’s Grayson.’

She and Grayson spoke in unison and they smiled briefly at each other.

‘Yeah,’ Emery said, nodding. ‘I’m sorry, Grayson, for all the things I said.’ He hesitated for a moment and had clearly not finished. ‘And, Thomasina, I shouldn’t have taken your postcard off the wall at the farm store. Tarran said that was a shitty thing to do.’

Well, no wonder I didn’t get a single bloody call! Thomasina swallowed her response, not wanting to give him any satisfaction and glad that Tarran had apparently spoken up in her defence. It meant a lot and lessened some of her embarrassment when she thought of him.

‘And also . . .’ Emery swallowed, and she wondered what else he had done – this was turning into quite a list. ‘I wanted to tell you that, on my life . . .’ He now placed his hand on his heart. ‘I didn’t kill Daphne. I found her like that.’

‘Right.’ She was relieved that Daphne more than likely had lain her little head down and fallen asleep and not met the grisly, fearful end she had suspected. Slowly, Thomasina stood up from the table and nodded briefly. ‘Do you want a cup of tea, Emery?’

‘Yes, please.’ He walked sheepishly around the table and took the seat she had recently vacated, as was the way in this kitchen.

‘And a slice of cake?’

Emery let a small, hesitant smile form. ‘Yes, yes, please. I tell you what – the Buttermores might have all that flash equipment and loads of money, but they’re right stingy with their cake.’

Thomasina petted Buddy’s ears as she made her way to the stove and filled the kettle, placing it on the hotplate, waiting for it to whistle. She looked over her shoulder at the four people sitting around the kitchen table and smiled. It was funny how things turned out. When she had woken up this morning she could not in a million years have envisaged the day ending with a scene like this.



With the tea things cleared away and the Skype call connected, she and Grayson sat at the dining-room table.

‘Your text sounded pretty urgent. Are Mum and Pops okay?’

‘They’re fine, Jonathan.’

‘Thank God for that!’ he said, exhaling deeply.

‘I just need to talk to you, and we don’t have a lot of time. A few days at most.’

‘I’m all ears! Ah, and you must be the infamous Mr Potts my sister’s told me about,’ he said, pointing.

‘Hi!’ Grayson raised his hand and peered at the screen.

‘You mess her around and you have me to deal with!’ Jonathan let out a loud laugh, but Grayson, sitting stony-faced, clearly wasn’t sure he was joking.