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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

Evelyn caught Ted’s eye and rolled hers heavenwards, and he gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head to show that he understood; but he couldn’t, not really. Evelyn had hoped Joan might be different, that somehow the two of them would muddle along until they were able to form a relationship that kind-of worked. But now she was here, it was clear that had been a pipe dream. Joan was exactly the same as she always had been, and there was nothing Evelyn could do to make her any warmer or more empathetic. She was just going to have to try and find a level that worked for them both.

Ted was glaring at Joan, as if he was ready to leap in and defend Evelyn at any moment, and she felt grateful for his moral support. At least she wasn’t entirely on her own.

‘So, shall we start bringing my things in?’ she asked him. ‘Am I still in my old room, Joan?’ she said, although she knew the answer.

Joan tutted. ‘I don’t know where else you think you’d sleep,’ she snapped.

‘Fine,’ replied Evelyn as evenly as she could manage.

She was back at home, and it was as if the last ten years had never happened.

22

22

2019

Pip stood on the opposite pavement and surveyed the Mountcastles’ house. Behind her the waves crashed on to the shore and the seagulls called, their plaintive cries whisked away by the breeze. The place hadn’t been hard to find. Jez had described the outside in enough detail that Pip could identify it pretty confidently. Now that she saw it, the house did ring a few distant bells. She probably had scurried past as a child, picturing all kinds of terrible truths about the women who lived inside, her imagination no doubt fuelled by Jez’s ghoulish stories.

These days the house looked shabby and unloved. Paint was peeling away from the window frames and the glass didn’t look as if it had seen a chamois leather for years. In fact, it was so dilapidated that it might have been empty but for a light burning in an upstairs window. Someone was there. But who?

Jez hadn’t been sure which sister had died in the accident, but Pip really hoped it was Joan. Wishing one sister dead over the other was an unworthy thought, but Pip’s affection for the chirpy, positive Evelyn grew with every diary post she read. Looking at the state of the house now, however, it was hard to believe it was the Evelyn of the diary who lived inside.