It wasn’t her fault their grandfather had singled her out.
‘He gave them to me because . . . he thought they would be safer.’
‘They’re here on a bookshelf, hardly kept at a controlled temperature under glass.’
Ellie was staring at her and Abby wilted under her gaze. ‘Not like that . . .’
‘How do you mean, then?’
‘He wanted them kept in the family.’ Abby bit her lip as her sister’s face contorted in growing disbelief. She was unsure if the message had sunk in. ‘Forever,’ she added for emphasis.
Ellie was crushed. ‘He thought I’d sell them?’
‘Well, wouldn’t you?’
‘No!’ Ellie stood abruptly, tears pricking at her eyes. ‘I loved these books. These books were my friends when you never bothered to spend any time with me. When you hated me.’
‘I never hated you.’
‘Yes, you did. You hated the fact I got all Mum’s attention when I was small. That my illness took her away from you.’
‘You’re wrong—’
‘It was obvious! And you weren’t even that bothered by Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. When I tried to tell you I’d read it, you just said you’d read it when you were six!’
Abby looked chastised. ‘Yes, I might have said that but . . .’ She took a deep breath. Maybe now was the time. Maybe she should speak up. ‘Ellie, there’s something you need to understand—’
‘What, that you’re always trying to stab me in the back?’
‘There’ll be no stabbing while I’m here, thank you very much.’ A woman’s voice cut through the argument.
Abby spun around. Her mouth dropped as she saw the familiar slight frame, the cropped blonde wavy hair framing the petite face. ‘You’re not supposed to be here until Wednesday!’
‘Charmed, I’m sure,’ said Susanna. ‘And I’m very happy to see you too, dear daughter.’
SIX
‘Oh my word, look at this terrace! It’s sublime!’ Susanna was breathless with delight as she gazed out across the sun-bleached flagstones, the olive and lemon trees, the large wooden table under a pagoda that was bursting with semi-ripe vines.
Abby watched her with an element of suspicion. She was unused to approval from her mother.
‘And the view! My God, it’s like gazing out onto heaven itself.’ Her face was enraptured and she pushed her sunglasses onto the top of her head. ‘You’ve done so well. Clever, clever girl to find all this.’
Her mother turned and smiled at her, waiting for a response, but Abby deliberately didn’t meet her gaze. She sensed her mother’s hurt, felt her falter and, out of the corner of her eye, saw Susanna turn back to the view, embarrassed by her daughter’s snub.
Ellie was sitting away from them, alone in a small wicker chair, sipping silently at a glass of wine. Her face gave nothing away but Abby knew she was still fuming. She also knew their mother’s lavish praise of the house was fuelling Ellie’s jealousy.
Matteo appeared from inside and handed a glass of wine to his mother-in-law.
‘And this husband,’ said Susanna. ‘He’s entirely wonderful.’
‘Salute!’ said Matteo, clinking her glass with his own.
‘It’s so great to meet you at last.’
Abby watched as Matteo, knowing she hadn’t wanted to invite Susanna to their wedding, took it all in his stride. Except he still doesn’t know the real reason why I didn’t want Mum here, she thought.
‘And you’re a policeman, you say? Must be very reassuring for Abby. To think, she had no expectations on that singles’ holiday, and she was right. But in the end it was lucky that she got mugged, otherwise you two would never have met.’
Abby stiffened and immediately saw her sister sit up in surprise. It hadn’t been something she’d talked to Ellie about. When it had happened, a year ago now, Ellie had been away on some long-haul trip, and by the time she’d come back, Abby had buried it.
‘The main thing is she was OK,’ said Matteo.
‘I know. I was beside myself when I heard about it.’
‘I need to start dinner,’ said Abby, turning away.
‘I’ll help,’ piped up Susanna, following her back inside to the kitchen. ‘What can I do?’ she asked brightly.
‘Start chopping the salad,’ said Abby, pointing at the pile of vegetables on the side.
Abby busied herself with the pasta and they worked in silence for a while. Abby knew her mother had offered to help as she wanted to talk privately, but was obviously taking her time, avoiding the elephant in the room. Abby sliced an onion, fried it in the pan and added herbs, garlic and tomatoes, all the while her irritation building. Her mother