The Library of Lost and Found(80)

“You’ve forgotten your piece of anniversary cake,” Zelda called after him.

Thomas’s eyes flashed. “Get her out, now.”

Betty gave a short nod. Her knees shook as she followed her mum back into the dining room.

Zelda stood next to the table. She held on to Gina’s hand, trying to swing it back and fro. Gina wore an embarrassed smile.

Dylan raised an eyebrow and Eleanor smirked. Trevor and his fiancée whispered to each other, and Lilian sat stiffly upright.

“This is my girlfriend, Gina,” Zelda slurred. “Let’s all welcome her to the family.” She swept her finger around each person sitting at the table. “Well, of course, you’re all Thomas’s family, rather than Betty’s. Not that we ever see any of you.”

Betty stepped forward. “Mum. It’s time to go.”

“I’ve not had any cake yet.”

“I’ve got your coat,” Thomas said. He stepped forward and thrust it at her.

Zelda didn’t move to take it, and it fell to the floor.

Betty surveyed the scene. Thomas’s relations were sat in a line like a weird version of the Last Supper. “Perhaps you’d like to go upstairs, Lilian?” she said softly.

But her daughter remained rooted to the spot. Her eyes didn’t move from her grandmother.

“Go home, Zelda.” Thomas rubbed between his eyes.

“There’s a couple of things I’d like to say first,” Zelda slurred. She stared around the table before focusing on Eleanor. “I’ve not been allowed in this house for eons, because of your son. He stops me from buying gifts for the girls. He keeps my daughter as a prisoner—”

“That’s not right, Mum,” Betty protested.

But Zelda nodded sagely. “Yes, it is. I can see things for what they are. For you. For Martha and Lilian. Thomas is only celebrating your anniversary to show off to his snobby family, and to get a promotion—”

“Mum,” Betty said. “Stop it.”

“Shhh,” Zelda held a finger to her lips. “It’s true.”

Betty looked around blindly for her husband.

Thomas moved over and placed his hands on the top of Zelda’s shoulders. A foot taller than her, he physically dwarfed her. He walked forward and maneuvered her toward the hallway.

“You don’t think she’s good enough for him, but she is,” Zelda shouted back to the group. “Just because she was pregnant—”

“Zelda. Let’s go,” Gina urged her, following behind.

“Please, Mum,” Betty begged. “Go home.”

Thomas opened the front door. He stood stiffly beside it and pointed outside. “Out,” he demanded.

Zelda glared at him. She took a step toward the door, bent her head, then rushed back into the dining room like a bull charging a matador. She snatched up her coat from the floor.

Betty and Thomas followed her.

Betty watched as Dylan and Eleanor each wrapped a protective arm around Lilian’s shoulders.

“You think you’re better than us,” Zelda said. “But you’re not. Look at you all, fawning over Lilian. Well, what about Martha? Not one of you has gone upstairs to see how she is—”

“Mum,” Betty cried out. “Stop.”

“Well, it’s true,” Zelda muttered as she wrestled on her coat. She pushed her hair back with her hand.

Eleanor stood up. “Really, Ezmerelda. Do listen to your daughter. You’re making an awful show of yourself.”

Zelda’s eyes had fire in them. She raised herself as tall as she could. “Well,” she said. “Well, Mrs. La-di-da. At least I’m Martha’s real grandmother.”

Everything seemed to fall into slow motion for Betty. She watched Lilian frown and look at her father. Eleanor stared blankly and Dylan touched her fingertips with his. Trevor’s fiancée started to cry.

“Oh,” Zelda said aloud in mock surprise. “None of you knew, did you? That your darling Thomas isn’t Martha’s daddy?”

Thomas swooped over. He wrapped his arms around Zelda and bundled her out of the room. The front door was still open and he pushed her outside. She raised her hand to push against it, but he forced it shut behind her. He held his hand against it.

“Let me back in,” she shouted, hammering it with her fists.

“Zelda,” Thomas said loudly over and over until she stopped banging. He waited, then opened the door a little and pressed his eye to it. “I never, ever want to see you here again,” he said slowly and firmly, his jaw clenching with anger. “You. Are. Dead to us.”

He shut the door and quickly locked it behind him.

Betty stood helplessly, chewing her lip. She could hear her mum shouting in the street. She peeked through the glass in the door to see Gina pulling her away.

Thomas’s hand shook as he raised it. Betty cowered as he forced it into a finger point. “I told you, Betty,” he seethed, prodding the air.

“Thomas. I’m so sorry.” She reached up and took hold of his jacket lapels. “She promised me—”

“You heard what she said to my family,” he hissed.

“We can tell them it’s not true. They saw she was drunk.”

“Our daughter was there.”