No Going Back (20 page)

“Why don't you go up,” Aunt Jane said. It wasn't really a question because she shoved me lightly in the small of my back. “I'll bring you some tea and I've just baked some biscuits.”

Before I had the chance to say no, she had gone, flurrying back to the kitchen. Liberty and I looked at each other. We both started to speak at the same time. It broke the ice a bit.

“I'm sorry,” she said, dropping the words onto
the top of my head. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you what I knew. I should have.”

And in that moment I forgave her. Standing in that narrow, dark hall, my hand clutching the oak banister for support, I saw what a difficult position she'd been in. It was as easy as that.

“I haven't known for long and I hated keeping it from you,” she said, as I sat on her bed and bit into a warm cookie. “I overheard Mum and Dad talking one night when I went downstairs to get a glass of water. They made me promise not to say anything.”

She looked so upset. She sat forwards on a small stool, her hands clenched together, her forehead all pinched.

“We've always said that we're like sisters,” she whispered, “so I should have ignored them. I should have told you anyway. I don't blame you if you hate me.”

“Of course I don't hate you,” I said. “I'm sorry you had to hide it from me but, to be honest, if I'd been in your shoes I don't know what I'd have done. Probably the same as you.”

“Really?” She lifted her head, looked at me
properly for the first time.

I nodded.

“Your dad must have been horrible to behave like that.”

“No,” I said, “you're wrong.”

She looked surprised. And I so wanted to tell her but I couldn't, not yet. It was my turn to have a secret and I wasn't doing it as a form of revenge but just because I wasn't ready to go through it all again. I knew that describing everything in words would bring it all back and I felt too fragile for that.

“He wasn't a bad man, Liberty,” I said. “He just got himself into a bit of a mess. He made a mistake and we can all do that.”

“But you've got a sister?”

“Yes. She's called Daisy. I've met her and she's lovely.”

Her face crumpled a little.

“Not lovelier than you though,” I said with a slightly jokey tone. “You'll always be my ‘sister' too.”

She half smiled at that. “I'm sorry what I said, about you always getting extra money and presents
from Gran. It wasn't fair.”

I paused.

“I know you're her favourite, Liberty, and that's okay. I can live with that.”

Her mouth fell open. “Me? Her favourite? You're kidding, aren't you? When you were back in London all she did was talk about you. To be honest I've always felt a little bit jealous.

“But when I came up here, she was always so mean to me, or that's how it seemed.”

“Maybe she just didn't want to show that
you
were ‘the special one'.”

We looked at each other and laughed. And as we laughed I felt something inside of me relax. Liberty sat up straighter.

“I'm sorry, Laura. I know that I've been horrible. I didn't want it to be like this. Mum was so stressed and I felt as if I had to take sides. It wasn't how I imagined it would be. I thought we'd all have a great time together once you moved up here.”

“Me too,” I whispered.

Her eyes had pooled with tears. “Can we start again?”

I nodded. “That would be good.”

She stood up and we hugged. I wasn't stupid. It wasn't all going to be sweetness and light from now on, especially when I told her about Sam. But things had changed between us.
We
had changed. I felt that whatever life threw at us we'd be able to work our way through any problems and that we'd always be there for each other. Of that I was sure.

T
HE
B
EGINNING

I
went back to London at October half-term. I was spending one night with Penny and one night with Abi. Penny met me at St Pancras station. I'd told her not to bother but she insisted. We hugged and she took hold of my case.

“I'm so glad you've come,” she said, turning to look at me as we went down the escalator. “Daisy's really looking forward to getting to know you better. She talked of nothing else when I saw her last weekend.”

To be honest, at that moment, I just wanted to turn around, push my way past all of the people and run back up towards the platform. This could be a complete disaster, I thought. It's one thing having a few random conversations with someone by text or telephone but quite another meeting face to face. When we spoke it was all a bit stilted and I began to doubt if we'd ever form a proper bond. What if we
had nothing in common? What if we found that we didn't really like each other? What if every time I looked at Daisy she just reminded me of the fact that Dad had betrayed Mum? What if I couldn't be the big sister she wanted me to be? Mum and Aunt Jane may argue a lot but there's this invisible thread that always pulls them back together, always encourages them to make up. Daisy and I didn't seem to have that thread. I wondered if we would meet up once a year just because we had a father in common and not because we really wanted to spend time with each other. It was like this pressure weighing down on me all of the time. Sometimes I thought it would have been better if I'd never found out about her at all.

Penny waited until we were walking past the shops, towards the Underground, before draping her arm lightly around my shoulders.

“It's okay to feel nervous,” she said, “but it'll be fine. Trust me. Just take it one step at a time.

It was almost exactly what Gran had said to me as she kissed me on the cheek that morning and pressed a tiny sprig of white heather into my palm.

“For good luck,” she whispered, “not that I think you'll need it.”

I never thought that I'd say this, but I'll miss Gran when we move out of the farm. She's getting stronger by the day and Mum says that after Christmas we could probably start looking for a little cottage for just the two of us. It won't be too far away so hopefully I can still nip in and see Gran after school. She always has tea and cake ready for me and she keeps an eye on Gloria when I'm not around. I can tell her some of my worries and she doesn't get all het up like Mum does. Gran just sits and listens quietly and then puts everything into perspective.

“Thanks, Gran,” I'd said, tucking the heather into my jeans pocket. “But I think you're wrong there. I think I'm going to need all of the luck I can get.”

“Laura, sweetheart,” she'd replied, stroking my cheek, “this is just the beginning. Things take time to settle down and you've had a lot of big changes to deal with. Don't expect too much too soon.”

I tried to keep those words of Gran's in my head as I unpacked a few of my things at Penny's and picked at the lunch she'd made. She chatted on cheerfully
about her work and asked me about the farm and Gloria and Mum. I just kept looking at the clock.

“I wish your mum could have come too. Not to be here this afternoon,” Penny said, turning and handing me a plate to dry up. “Obviously that would have been too difficult, but I would like us to meet up again.”

“She's working,” I replied. “She's got some freelance jobs which she's really enjoying.”

“That's good,” Penny said. “Maybe next time.”

I nodded. “Maybe.”

Penny threw me a wistful smile. “Your dad would have been so proud of you, Laura, doing this. You do know that, don't you?”

“Yes,” I said. “I know.”

The doorbell went on the dot of half past two. Penny had just gone upstairs to make some notes for a new project she was working on. I knew she'd done that on purpose. Adults can be so obvious sometimes.

“Can you answer the door, please, Laura?” she called. “I'll be down in a minute.”

I took a deep breath but my hands were shaking
as I fiddled with the brass catch. Daisy was standing very close to Amanda, their coat sleeves crumpled together, and they both looked as nervous as I felt.

“Hello, Laura,” Amanda said. “How are you?”

“Fine, thanks.”

Such a lie. I was far from fine. I concentrated on what Gran had said, “Don't expect too much too soon.”

“Hi, Daisy,” I said with a weak smile. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, looked up at me shyly as they walked past into the hall. I was so relieved when Penny padded down the stairs and hugged them both. Her natural warmth seemed to thaw the awkwardness a little.

“Laura's bought you a present,” she said to Daisy. “Isn't that lovely? Do you want to go upstairs and see it? Then we'll have tea in a little while. Laura's grandma has sent some lovely lemon biscuits that she made.”

Daisy hesitated so, tentatively, I held out my hand. She took hold of it and followed me up the stairs.

It was Mum's idea to buy something, which
I thought was pretty generous of her.

“It'll break the ice,” she had said.

And she was right. As Daisy unwrapped the little parcel of glittery nail polish, her eyes lit up.

“I can do them for you, if you like,” I offered.

So we sat on the bed together while I painted her nails and gradually she opened up.

“Do you miss London?” she asked.

“Yes,” I replied, “but I'm getting used to Derbyshire. I've got my cousin Liberty down the road and I've just started at a new school.”

“I'm starting at a new school next year,” she said. “Is it scary?”

“A bit. But you'll be fine.”

“Have you made new friends?”

“A few, but making good friends takes time. You can't rush it.”

She wafted her fingers around to get the nails to dry.

“They look so pretty,” she said. “Thank you, Laura.”

“You're welcome,” I said. “You can do mine if you like.”

“Can I?”

Her eyes shone.

“Really? Tell me what colour you'd like.”

“You choose,” I said.

She picked each of the six bottles up and looked at them carefully. Then she looked at what I was wearing.

“I think you should wear purple,” she said, “because it matches the birds on your top.”

“Perfect,” I said.

“Have you got any pets?” she asked, as I rested my hand on her knee.

I told her about Gloria and how she loved to chase things – butterflies, bees, bits of string, leaves.

Daisy laughed and the nail polish wavered onto my finger.

“Oops!” she said. “Sorry!”

“That's all right,” I chuckled. “I do that all the time.”

“Did your Mum get you Gloria?” she asked.

“No, a friend. He's called Sam.”

She looked up at me and bit her lip.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

I nodded.

“That's a very special present. He must like you a lot.”

I felt myself blushing. “He's a special person. He knew I'd always wanted a cat, ever since I was little.”

“When our daddy was alive?”

“Yes. He was allergic to cats.”

“I know. Mummy told me that. Do you remember him?”

“Yes.”

“What was he like?”

I leaned back against the headboard and closed my eyes for a second. “He was funny and kind and silly sometimes.”

“He sounds nice.”

“He was.”

“Did you love him a lot?”

“Yes.”

She must have seen the tears welling up in my eyes.

“Does thinking about him make you sad?”

“Sometimes.”

“I don't want you to be sad.”

I leaned forwards and wiped my eyes. “No, me neither.”

She put her arms around me. Her hair smelled of strawberry shampoo and her fingers tapped softly against my shoulder blades.

“Do you mind me putting flowers on his grave?” she whispered.

“No!”

I moved away slightly, looked into her anxious blue eyes. And at that moment something strange happened. I had this overwhelming desire to protect her from all harm. I didn't ever want to let her down.

“No, of course I don't. You have just as much right to put them there as I do.”

“Why are your flowers always yellow?” she asked.

“Because it was Dad's favourite colour.”

She was quiet for a moment. “I didn't know that. There's lots I don't know about him.”

I stroked her hair away from her face. “Well maybe I can fill in some of the gaps.”

She nodded, and carried on painting my nails without speaking.

“Would you like me to put some flowers on the grave from you sometimes?” she asked, putting the bottle of nail polish down on the bedside table.

“Do you know what I'd really like?” I replied.

She shook her head.

“I'd like you to put flowers on from both of us, one posy from Daisy and Laura. I think Dad would like that, don't you?”

She smiled. “I think if he's looking down on us,” she said, “that would make him very happy.”

I put my arms around her and clasped her close.

“I think so too.”

I closed my eyes and pressed my lips to my sister's ear.

“I promise that I will always be here for you, Daisy.”

It wasn't just a promise to my sister, it was a promise to our dad too.

A
CKNOWLEDGEMENTS

A big thank-you to my editors Katie, Helen and Anne for their meticulous appraisals, support and encouragement. Also thanks to everyone at Templar who has been involved with the production of
No Going Back
. These are the unsung heroes of a published book but their hard work on my behalf is much appreciated.

Also thank you to Reverend Stephen Heygate from the Leicester Diocesan Deliverance Team who gave me valuable advice for certain scenes and also to Joseph Harris for putting me straight on molecular structure!