Picture of Innocence. TJ Stimson

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       Chapter 4

       Wednesday 7.30 a.m.

      Emily looked much better the next morning when Maddie stopped at her mother’s house, where Emily had spent the night, to see how she was doing. Her daughter’s spots had started to scab, which her mother said was always a good sign with chickenpox, and her temperature was almost back to normal.

      ‘You didn’t have to come over,’ Sarah said briskly, putting the kettle on to boil. ‘I told you last night we’re fine. Emily’s helping me make some posters for my sale this morning, aren’t you, darling?’

      Emily nodded. ‘We’ve got glitter pens,’ she announced. ‘And special stickers.’

      ‘Another fundraiser?’ Maddie asked, surprised. ‘Didn’t you have one just last weekend?’

      ‘That was for Child Rescue. This is the Mercy Foundation.’

      Maddie kicked herself for even asking. She’d long since given up trying to keep track of her mother’s good causes. Sarah was an indefatigable do-gooder; Maddie had grown up surrounded by boxes filled with cast-offs destined for jumble sales and had learned to sort china and check pockets almost before she could talk. When her mother wasn’t volunteering at the local soup kitchen, she was helping out with Meals-on-Wheels. It was impossible not to admire the energy and commitment she put into her charitable work, but Maddie had always felt slightly resentful. Her teenage Saturdays had been spent sorting jumble or posting flyers through letter boxes, while everyone else at school had been out shopping and having fun. It was no wonder she’d found it so hard to make friends. Even now, Sarah’s diary was twice as hectic as Maddie’s own. Unless Maddie was in crisis, she had to book lunch with her mother a month in advance. There was always another cause more worthy of her attention.

      No, that was petty and mean. Sarah was the first port of call for a dozen local charities and a lifeline for many of them. Her mother wasn’t given to self-pity, but Maddie knew she hadn’t had it easy, losing her parents while still in her late teens and then being widowed when Maddie was just two. Maddie’s father, who had been nearly twenty years older than Sarah, had ensured his wife and child were provided for; their bungalow had been paid off and there’d been just enough money that Sarah didn’t have to work, as long as she was sensible. She’d chosen to pay it forward by volunteering and fundraising.

      At fifty-four, she was still an attractive woman, with a neat figure and the same rich strawberry-blonde hair Maddie and Emily had inherited. She’d have no shortage of eligible suitors, should she choose. But she’d never looked at another man since Maddie’s father had died. ‘I’ve already been luckier than most women,’ she said, whenever Maddie raised the subject. ‘I have you, and the children, and my charity work. That’s all I need.’

      Maddie finished her cup of tea and stood up. ‘I’ll come back and pick Emily up this afternoon, after work,’ she said. ‘The nursery rang this morning, and said half the children are out with chickenpox, so I’m sure the boys will get it too. I know Lucas will hate it, but there’s not much point keeping Emily in quarantine with you if they’re all going to come down with it anyway.’

      ‘Oh, please, can’t I stay with Manga?’ Emily exclaimed, using her childhood name for her grandmother, which had evolved when she’d mangled ‘Grandma’ by saying it backwards. ‘I’d much rather be here.’

      ‘How about you come back and help me with the sale on Saturday afternoon?’ Sarah said. ‘Your spots should be nearly gone by then, and I could really use some help setting up the stalls. It’d just be you and me. The boys can stay with Mummy and Lucas. How does that sound?’

      ‘Could we go to the Lucky Duck afterwards?’ Emily said eagerly. ‘Can we order burgers? The ones with the special thousand island dressing?’

      ‘I don’t see why not.’

      Emily cheerfully opened a bag of silver foil stars and emptied them onto the kitchen table alongside her poster, good humour restored.

      Maddie hugged her daughter goodbye, and put her empty mug in the sink. ‘I’d better get going,’ she said. ‘Izzy’s arranged for a photographer to come and do some PR shots for the Courier. I promised I’d help her set up some jumps for the horses.’

      ‘Hang on,’ Sarah said. ‘I’ll come and see you off. I’ve got to put the recycling out.’

      ‘I can do that for you.’ ‘No, I’ve got it.’

      She slipped her feet into her gardening clogs and followed Maddie out, wheeling the recycling bin to the kerb. Maddie unlocked her twenty-year-old Land Rover, jiggling the key carefully in the sticky lock. It’d already had a hundred and fifty thousand miles on the clock when she’d bought it, eight years ago; one of these days, it was just going to collapse into a heap of rust.

      ‘Are you OK, darling?’ Sarah asked as she walked back towards her. ‘You look awfully tired.’

      ‘Not you as well,’ Maddie sighed. ‘I am tired, Mum. What do you expect? I have a nine-week-old baby to look after. Noah was up all night again last night. I finally got him to sleep around three, and then Jacob woke at five and climbed into bed with us.’

      ‘And Lucas slept right through it all, of course.’

      Maddie paused, half-in and half-out of the car. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

      ‘Nothing, dear.’

      ‘No, if you’ve got something to say, Mum, spit it out.’

      ‘I’ve got nothing against Lucas, darling, you know that. I think he’s been very good for you in lots of ways.’

      ‘But?’

      Sarah hesitated. ‘He has been very good to you,’ she said again. ‘But you’ve been very good to him, too, Maddie.’

      Maddie bristled. First, Jayne implied Lucas wasn’t pulling his weight, and now her mother. They had no idea how hard he worked. He wasn’t as hands-on with Noah as he had been with Jacob, admittedly, but he was working hard towards making partner at his firm. And sometimes he could be a bit bossy, a little bit controlling, especially when it came to the children, but that’s because she was too soft. He was an incredible father. She refused to hear a word against him.

      ‘He’s my husband,’ she said firmly. ‘We’re in this together, Mum. We don’t keep track of who does what. And to be honest, if we did, I’d be the one in the red, not him.’

      ‘I’m not criticising him, Maddie. I’m just worried about you. You’ve got a lot on your plate. Three children and the sanctuary to manage, on top of everything else.’ She laid a cool hand on Maddie’s arm. ‘If you don’t get enough rest, it’s easy for things to become overwhelming.’

      Maddie shook her off. ‘I’m fine, Mum.’

      ‘Asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness—’

      ‘I said I’m fine,’ she snapped, and then instantly regretted it. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to bite your СКАЧАТЬ