“A personal matter.”
He looked as if he was about to argue, but then moved away, down one of the aisles, presumably to get her.
* * *
Two minutes later, a petite woman appeared at Laura’s shoulder.
“Can I help you?”
Laura scrutinized her for a resemblance to Cherry, but still saw nothing.
“Hello, I’m Laura Cavendish.”
The woman frowned a moment, then broke into a delighted, albeit perplexed, smile.
“Daniel’s mum?”
Her heart jumped. “That’s right.”
“Cherry never said . . . Are we meant to be meeting?”
“It’s more of an impromptu thing. I didn’t tell Cherry I was coming.”
“It’s almost time for me break. Hold on—” She fiddled with her radio. “Holly, can you cover now? I’m going for a cuppa.”
Laura heard a fuzzy agreement and then followed Wendy to the cafe, a bland, natural-light-starved cubicle at the side of the shop. “They do a lovely latte,” said Wendy, insisting on paying as she got the staff discount.
Laura ordered a peppermint tea, Wendy a latte, and the two sat down at a small round table with brown edging.
Wendy looked at her curiously. “It’s nice to meet you finally. I’ve been asking Cherry to introduce us for ages, but she’s always had some excuse, mostly that you don’t have much free time. Course, we’re both working mums,” she said, smiling.
Laura returned the smile. She thought that Cherry had said nothing about their falling-out; Wendy was too amiable, delighted even to be in her company. In fact, she was so pleased to meet her,so openly warm, that Laura had an unexpected stab of guilt for what she was about to do. She took a deep breath and clasped her hands on her lap.
“Wendy, a few months ago, I did something rather awful to Cherry.”
Her face was blank. “Did you? She never said.”
“Cherry and I haven’t always seen eye to eye, and when Daniel was not expected to live . . . you know he was injured?”
“Yes, terrible news, I felt so sorry for you—”
“Yes, well, when the doctors said he was unlikely to live, I told Cherry he’d died, just so I could spend those last few days with him alone. Just his father and I.”
It didn’t sink in at first. “You what?”
She didn’t say it again.
“Oh, my God.”
“And when hedidlive, I didn’t tell Cherry. I did a terrible thing, and I’m sorry for the hurt I caused them.... But since Cherry found out, she’s . . . well, to put it bluntly, threatened me with destroying my life.”
“Come again?”
Laura was wary. She’d caught the indignation on Wendy’s face, the flash of anger. “I know it’s probably very hard to hear. I would find it hard—”
“Now, just a minute. How do you get off coming here and telling me my daughter’s some sort of monster?”
“I didn’t say that exactly—”
