BooksBarbecue
Back Reluctantly Home Save as PDF
Chapters (55)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  55. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Her mother picked up the laundry basket. ‘You should do what you think’s best,’ she said. ‘But if I were you, I’d leave well alone. People don’t thank you for nosing about in their lives, especially not when they’ve kept themselves so private.’

This wasn’t the answer that Pip was expecting or wanted to hear, but she smiled at her mother. ‘Okay. Thanks, Mum.’

Her mother’s eyes lingered on her face a second longer. ‘And you’re all right?’ she asked quietly, a wealth of questions hidden in just one.

‘Yes, Mum,’ Pip replied. ‘I’m okay. Actually, I feel a bit better today. Maybe things are finally starting to change.’

‘Good,’ said her mother.

And then she bustled away.

Were they? Pip wondered. Were they really starting to change? She hardly dare believe it, and yet she had just said it out loud. She had finally cried, which had to be a good thing, and she had felt something when she had gone out with Jez. Granted, feelings like that weren’t that helpful, but at least she had some. She had been numb for so long that she had forgotten what it was like to have an emotional response. And reading Evelyn’s diary every night had given her an interest beyond her own grief and guilt. Each indicator of change was only small on its own, but they were all pointing in the same direction. Pip was finally moving forward.

26

26

2019

When Evelyn woke, the sky outside was a milky pink. It would rain, she thought. Not that it mattered, as she wouldn’t be going outside. She never went outside any more. Slowly she shifted her position, every inch of her back and hips crying out in pain. She felt so very old these days. It was as if simply moving was a luxury granted only to younger people, whilst she was expected to bear the agony of stiff and frozen joints until she died. She had to remind herself that she was only seventy. That was no age, she knew, and yet she felt every single month of it.

Nicholas told her endlessly that if she insisted on sleeping in her chair then she only had herself to blame, but really, what was the point of shuffling from chair to bed? At least she could get up from her chair when she needed to. If she took to her bed, there was no guarantee that she’d ever bother to raise herself out of it again. They would find her, if they came looking, flat on her back, her body rigid and unmoving even as her heart still pumped blood around her veins.