Cut You Dead (Dr. Samantha Willerby Mystery #4) - A J Waines Page 0,49
wonderful place. I keep popping in whenever I get the chance, if only to chat with people.’
I nodded. ‘Lovely atmosphere. They’re open and welcoming.’
‘A really nice bunch turned up to my class. Your sister was there – she was probably the most advanced.’
‘That doesn’t surprise me,’ I said with a wry smile. ‘She’s got a feisty streak and hates being taken advantage of.’
‘I like her. She doesn’t look as though she gives up easily.’ Emily took a sip of ale, then set down the glass and watched the orange dregs slide to the bottom. ‘Same as you, actually.’
I let her see my smile, but didn’t pursue what she said. ‘How’s she getting on with the exhibition? Do you know?’
‘Yeah – it’s going great, so far. I seem to be heavily involved,’ she said with a chuckle. ‘Helping with admin, but I said I’d be there on the day as well. Ralph’s on the scene a lot, but I expect you know all about him.’
Ralph? Was that the guy Miranda had been cagey about at the café?
‘Her boyfriend?’ I said neutrally, taking a chance.
‘Hmm.’ Emily nodded.
‘Actually, Miranda’s been a bit cloak and dagger about him. With me, at least. I haven’t even been introduced.’
‘Really? Everyone seems to know about him at the project. They seem very pashy. I keep catching them snogging.’
I folded my arms. ‘Miranda isn’t always forthcoming about her love life. Even though I’m the younger sister, she demonises me as some kind of wicked stepmother out to spoil her fun.’
Emily was about to laugh, then realised I was being serious. ‘Oh, that’s rotten. Bit like me and Kipper, my older brother. Utterly clueless. Used to get into a complete fluster whenever there was a problem. No ideas or initiative of his own.’
Emily stared down at her twitching fingers, as if she was turning pages in a photograph album of her life. She looked at her glass then directly at me. ‘I’ve only just met her, but your sister seems like she’s had a tough life one way or another.’ Her eyes stayed on me. ‘And you too. But in a very different way. And I imagine you don’t talk about it much.’
I laughed awkwardly. ‘You’re very astute. Ever thought of becoming a psychotherapist?’
She laughed for real this time.
‘Seriously,’ I added.
She cleared her throat. ‘I’ll think about it. Maybe. When my body gives out and I can’t teach sports anymore.’ She grinned. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence. It means a lot, although I think I’m a bit too messed up to be any use to anyone.’
I shook my head. ‘Ah, that’s not how it works. You need to have struggled yourself in order to help others. You need to know from experience the savage clutches of pain and suffering. Otherwise, you can’t feel your way into someone else’s misery.’
She nodded slowly. ‘I suppose so.’ She appeared to chew it over, then dropped her head. ‘It’s my dad’s birthday today, or would have been.’ She sniffed and wiped her nose with a tissue from her sleeve.
I put my arm around her. ‘Want to talk about it?’
‘Not much to say, really. He was wonderful. Had a heart attack when I was eight.’ Her words fell heavily in the air between us. ‘I was the one who found him.’
I let out a sympathetic whimper.
She tugged a strand of hair from her mouth. ‘I heard a crash and found him in a heap beside the toilet.’ A faraway look claimed her face. ‘Mum was out at a Tupperware party with her girlfriends. My brother was fast asleep.’ Emily threw a glance at me. ‘That’s it. Except I still miss Dad like crazy.’ She lifted her head, her eyes moist. ‘Have you lost loved ones in your life?’
‘No one close – no family or friends, but there have been patients who’ve died. Some on my watch. Always tragically.’
She winced. ‘That must be tough. You must feel responsible.’
‘A troubled kind of grief, certainly.’
Something jabbed inside my heart at the thought of Lorna. I cleared my throat and sent the focus back on Emily. ‘Did your father get to see you shine at sport?’
Emily shifted her gaze into the distance. ‘No. He died before I showed any talent. Such a shame. He never saw me do well. Probably my greatest regret.’
A tear dribbled down her cheek, catching the light. Emily looked up suddenly as if she’d forgotten I was there. ‘Sorry. This must be a busman’s holiday for you.’