‘You’re Hattie’s cousin, I believe?’ Dr Ambrose asked.
There was an awful pause while Lizzie and I both pretended not to be holding our breath.
‘No.’ Gideon said, sounding like a man choking on a terrible secret. ‘I’m her son.’
* * *
I’d packed my things, readied the motorhome and was sitting at the kitchen table, wondering what to do about Flapjack, wondering how on earth I’d managed to convince myself that I could handle a serious relationship, genuine friendships, a normal life… when the front door opened, sending both the dogs scampering out to greet whoever it was.
Cautiously following them, I saw Gideon gently helping a hunched-over, drawn-out Hattie through the door.
‘Sophie,’ Hattie breathed as they both came to a stop, and then she couldn’t seem to think of anything more to say.
Which was to be expected, I supposed, as I stood back to allow Gideon to lead her into the sunroom. I was a near-stranger, hired for a project that was now more or less complete. A grain of grit in the mechanism that had kept Riverbend alive throughout this chapter of its story.
Here was a mother, reunited with her lost child.
Beside her was a son and heir, discovering a legacy and a history that had rocked him to his core.
I watched through the doorway as Hattie slowly lowered herself onto the sofa, felt even more like a voyeuristic intruder as Gideon tucked a blanket around her knees, checked that the cushions were positioned comfortably.
Slipping back into the kitchen, I left a note on the table, picked up my bag, gestured to my dog to follow me, and left.
* * *
A mile outside Middlebeck, I pulled over, my body so wracked with sobs that it was all I could do to steady myself enough to message Deirdre.
I don’t know what you’ve heard, but it’s best that I leave. I think Hattie’s ready to tell you all the truth now, and she’ll need your help. Thanks for everything. Say bye to Laurie and Kalani for me. The Gals meant more to me than I could ever explain xxx
33
I spent a couple of weeks with Ezra and Naomi trying to wallow in my pit of misery while surrounded by children who just didn’t seem to respect Auntie Sophie’s personal crisis. The constant pleas to play a game, braid hair, watch yet another incomprehensible TikTok video eventually ground me down.
It was impossible not to feel better when surrounded by such innocent, unashamedly exuberant life.
‘Did you break up with your boyfriend?’ JoJo asked one breakfast, unable to conceal her eagerness for gossip.
Had I broken up with my boyfriend? We hadn’t spoken since the hospital.
‘I guess I have, yes.’
‘Did he cheat?’
‘He didn’t, no.’
‘Did he gaslight you?’ She patted my arm in sympathy. ‘Ooh, did he slide into another woman’s DMs, because that’s still cheating, you know?’
‘He did nothing wrong.’
‘Oh.’ She licked the lid of her yogurt pot, brow creasing in confusion. ‘Why did you break up, then?’
I took a large bite of toast while I thought about how to answer this.
‘Maybe Auntie Sophie was the one sliding into someone’s DMs,’ Ishmael said, eyeing us over his giant cereal bowl. ‘It’s not always the guy, you know.’
‘Or she lied,’ Aaliyah added, her mouth sporting a milk moustache.
‘Auntie Sophie would never lie!’ JoJo retorted.
