Haven't They Grown(45)

‘I’m worried Flora’s in danger,’ I say before I can stop myself. ‘I’m not sure I can explain it very well, but … Flora and Lewis both lied to me. The people living in their old house lied. There are no pictures of Flora on Lewis’s Instagram page – only of him, Thomas and Emily. I know none of this proves she’s in danger, but I think something is really wrong.’

‘Beth, please try to understand,’ says Gerard. ‘We can’t help you. We don’t know the answers to any questions you might ask. You know more than we do, and I’m afraid that conversations like this one won’t do me or my wife any good at all. It’s going to take us weeks, possibly months, to recover from your visit. Nothing you’ve said suggests danger to me so much as … well, hard though this might be for you to hear, I think it sounds as if Flora and Lewis don’t want you in their life any more – much the same way they felt about us.’

‘But they told you quite directly, didn’t they? That’s not what they’re doing with me.’

‘Mum, we should go,’ Zannah says quietly.

‘I’m sorry. Sorry to be so … relentless. Can I ask you one more question before I leave?’

‘I’d rather you didn’t,’ says Gerard, at the same time that Rosemary says, ‘Yes.’

‘Did you like Lewis? Were you happy to have him as a son-in-law? Did you ever worry that he might …’ I can’t bring myself to say it.

‘Harm Flora?’ says Rosemary. ‘No. Never. He adored Flora and the children. Treated them as if they were made of gold. I didn’t like him, though.’

Gerard makes a spluttering noise. He puts down his cup of tea and wipes his mouth. ‘Rosemary, of course you liked Lewis. We both did.’

‘I didn’t.’

‘You did,’ he insists, looking perplexed.

‘I pretended to. I’ve always pretended to, even after they told us they didn’t want us in their lives any more. It was probably silly of me, Ged. You and I should have discussed it before now. I shouldn’t have told you in front of people we hardly know.’

‘Never mind,’ he says. He looks as if he does, though.

‘Why didn’t you like him?’ I ask Rosemary.

‘It’s hard to describe, especially at a distance of so many years. But whenever he came here, I felt as if I was a guest in his house and not the other way round. Not even a guest, actually. More of a servant. He always had an air of being in charge, even in places where he shouldn’t have been. Even in my kitchen.’

‘He was always perfectly genial, as far as I recall,’ Gerard defends the man who told him he’d never see his daughter or grandchildren again. ‘Life and soul of every gathering.’

‘But we couldn’t be ourselves around him, Ged. Not at all.’

‘I could.’

‘Well, I couldn’t,’ says Rosemary in a shaky voice. ‘I always felt I needed to please and impress him, and that, if I didn’t, my relationship with Flora would suffer. I worked out, very early on, what kind of mother-in-law he would most want, and then I pretended to be that person.’

‘When I spoke to Lewis on the phone, I asked after Georgina,’ I tell her. ‘I said, “How old is she now?” Obviously, I had no idea she’d passed away. I said it in a “Wow, she must be nearly a teenager” kind of way.’

‘Lewis won’t have liked that at all,’ says Gerard Tillotson quietly. Something chimes at the back of my mind – some sort of alarm or warning – but it’s gone before I can grasp it.

‘What did he say?’ asks Rosemary.

‘He told me Georgina was twelve,’ I say. I know I’ve said enough, but I’m so furious with Lewis that I can’t control it, and the rest spills out: ‘There was no hint of distress or unease in his voice. He sounded his usual, upbeat, extrovert self, even though, it turns out, he was telling me the most outrageous lie: that his daughter who died when she was six months old is alive and well and living in Delray Beach, Florida.’





12


‘Beth? It’s pitch black in here,’ Dom complains.

I’m in the bath, in the dark, with Kiehl’s Lavender, Sea Salts and Aloe Vera bath foam and a few extra drops of essential lavender oil added for good measure, to make the scent stronger. My face is covered with a stiff, dried mask: Zannah’s favourite – a blend of lavender and camomile that comes as a powder. You have to add water and stir it into a paste.

Some people believe that tea is the answer to stress, and others resort to alcohol. For me, it’s lavender.

‘You want to talk yet?’ says Dom.

I nod. I’m ready. It might be nearly midnight, but since getting back from Wokingham I’ve dealt with my work email inbox and had an hour or so to get my thoughts in order. The bath has helped hugely. I feel like I have a grip on things again. I’ve adjusted, digested all the new information.

‘Good.’ Dom closes the door and locks it. Now we’re in total darkness.

‘Can I turn a light on?’ he asks.

‘No. Your eyes’ll adjust in a minute.’

He sits down on the floor, leaning his back against the wall. ‘We need to talk,’ he says. ‘Seriously.’