‘You’ve fallen in love with someone else? Who?’
‘Thomas Parsons. You met him last summer.’
‘The one who went to Holkham with us last summer with his friend?’
‘Yes. That Thomas.’
Dottie winds the memory of the day at Holkham Beach through her mind. It had been so much fun. She peers over at her sister, at her hair glowing silver under a thin finger of moonlight that has slipped past the cellar window’s blackout fabric. She’d had George and Charlie all to herself that day at Holkham Beach because Ellie had gone off with Thomas. It had been wonderful.
‘How could you do that, Ellie? George’s only ever been lovely to all of us. You were supposed to get married. I was going to be the bridesmaid.’
‘You can’t help it when you fall in love. I loved George, but I wasn’t in love with him. I didn’t know that there was a difference until I met Thomas.’ Ellie grabs the blanket and pulls it up over their knees. ‘It just happened, Dottie. I didn’t expect it. I didn’t even want it to happen.’
‘So, stop it.’
‘I can’t. I don’t want to.’
‘Are you going to marry him?’
‘I don’t know.’
Dottie slaps the blanket. ‘But you’re engaged to George!’
‘We were never really engaged. We just assumed we’d get married someday. But he never asked me, Dottie. He never gave me a ring.’
Dottie reaches over and picks up the cat, nestling it against her. She pulls the blanket up over the cat, tucking it in like a swaddled baby. A soft purr wafts into the room, barely audible amongst the noise from the bombing assault outside.
‘Dottie, Thomas asked me to marry him last autumn.’
Dottie’s eyes widen. ‘He did?’
‘I said no.’ Ellie looks over at her sister who is clutching the cat against her chest like a doll. ‘I said no because I couldn’t bear leaving you and Poppy. That would be an awful thing for me to do. Imagine us never seeing each other ever again. I couldn’t do that to you and Poppy, not ever.’
‘I’d never forgive you if you went, Ellie.’
‘Don’t say things like that.’
‘I don’t care. I hate Thomas. I hope he dies.’
‘Stop it, Dottie. That’s no way to talk.’
The wooden stairs creak. The girls look up as their father steps down into the cellar.
‘Poppy!’ Dottie throws off the blanket and shoves the cat into Ellie’s arms. Running over to her father, she flings her arms around him. A cloud of silvery dust rises from his jacket. ‘Ellie’s broken up with George and she loves Thomas and I thought we were going to die!’
Henry coughs, his shoulders shaking as he gasps for breath. He wipes his mouth with a handkerchief and clears his throat. ‘Well, I can see you’re both in one piece.’
‘But, Poppy! What about George?’
Henry runs his hand over Dottie’s smooth brown hair. ‘Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is wing’d Cupid painted blind.’
‘What?’
‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream, pet. It’s not for us to interfere with Ellie’s romantic life. She’s a grown woman and she can make her own decisions. Now, let’s light a candle and play Whist.’
Chapter 29
Tippy’s Tickle – 16 September 2001
‘Daddy!’
Sam looks up from the wooden chair he’s sanding as his daughter runs over to him. She throws her arms around his neck, and he gives her a hug and a kiss on her cheek.
‘Hi, Becca-bug. What are you doing here?’
A young woman in a loose cotton dress printed with pink rosebuds follows the girl into the store and sets a small paper bag on the workbench. The scent of warm pastry and dates wafts into the room.
‘We’ve been helping Nanny make date squares,’ the woman says as she pulls her long, blond hair into a ponytail. ‘I think Becca ate half the filling before it made it into the squares, isn’t that right, honey?’
Becca reaches into the bag and lifts out a date square, the crumbly oat topping spilling out onto the planked floor as she bites into the treat. ‘They still taste good, Daddy,’ she says as she wipes the crumbs around her mouth.
The woman walks over to Sam and gives him a quick kiss on his lips. He pulls her closer and kisses her. Pulling away, she laughs and ruffles his hair. ‘You’d think we were just married.’
‘That’s wrong, Mommy,’ Becca says as she chews. ‘I’m eight, so you married Daddy before that.’
‘You’re right, Becca-bug.’ Sam reaches into the paper bag. ‘Daddy married Mommy ten years ago, then we moved to a big city called Boston. That’s where you were born.’
‘Why did we move here, Daddy?’
‘Well, because … Because …’ Sam looks at the woman and frowns. ‘What are you doing here, Winny?’
The woman laughs, the sound floating on the air like petals. ‘Of course I’m okay, silly. I’m healthy as a horse. In fact, I’m so hungry I could eat one.’ She plucks the date square from Sam’s hand and takes a big bite.
Becca giggles, her laughter as light as the trills of the puffins on the cliffs up the coast. ‘You can’t eat a horse, Mommy. That’s impossible.’
Sam presses his fingers into his forehead. ‘But, Becca and I came here after—’ He jerks his head around to his daughter. ‘You’re talking, Becca.’
Becca rolls her eyes behind her glasses. ‘Of course I’m talking, Daddy.”
‘You can hear me, sweetie?’
‘Daddy, you’re being very silly.’
A rap on the store door. It swings open, the rusty hinges protesting with a ragged squeak. ‘Sam? Ellie sent over some scones and blueberry jam for you since you missed breakfast.’
Sam looks over at the woman in the green velvet suit that looks like it has been dusted with a fine coating of sand. ‘Sophie?’
Sophie smiles at Winny and sets the basket of scones on the workbench beside the paper bag of date squares. ‘There you are, Becca. Did Florie give you those squares? Ellie was wondering what happened to them. We need them for her birthday party tonight. You might have to help me make
