change it. Selling was the only option. She ought to talk to Edward about it – well, talk to Edward’s lawyer. That would be next she supposed: his lawyer talking to her lawyer. She didn’t have a lawyer. There hadn’t been much call in her life for legal help, but she’d have to get one now. Not from Tamarin, of course. Even if the lawyer was the very model of discretion, still Anneliese winced at the thought of somebody local knowing everything about her and Edward’s break-up.
She could imagine it. Nell, sitting in a lawyer’s office, crouched like a witch on her chair, saying: ‘No, Edward, make sure you get half of everything – more than half.’
Anneliese shuddered. She’d get a lawyer in Waterford and let them deal with it. She’d say she wanted it done as simply and cleanly as possible, like amputation. Cut the limb off, cauterise it and walk away. But where would she go then? Would she stay in Tamarin? If Lily wasn’t there, she probably wouldn’t and Lily might not survive.
It had been over a week since her stroke and it was time to face facts. Lily might never come back and the more Anneliese visited her, the more she thought that Lily was getting older and frailer and more distant in the bed.
She could move to Dublin to be close to Beth and Marcus and her beautiful grandchild, but that might be crowding Beth; it wouldn’t be fair.
Her family home had been the other side of Waterford, but her parents were long dead and her brothers and sisters were scattered all around the country and the globe. There was no one place to call home any more, except Tamarin. When she’d married Edward, Anneliese had made this place her home.
God, the tablets were great, she thought sleepily. They allowed her mind to roam into areas she’d previously locked off. Which had to be good – or was it bad?
She closed her eyes, allowed herself to stop thinking about what she’d do next, and somehow she fell asleep.
The sound of a car crunching up on the stones on the drive woke her up. Beth was back. She should have been cooking and she’d fallen asleep. Blast it.
She threw back the duvet and looked out of the window, only there were two cars parking, Beth and Marcus’s car and Edward’s.
Anneliese’s chest tightened. She couldn’t cope with Edward right now. Clearly this was some idea of Beth’s to bring him here and make him talk to Anneliese. But Edward and Anne-liese didn’t want to talk to each other. They’d had two weeks to do it and neither of them had so much as picked up a phone to speak to the other. There was simply nothing to be said and too much pain would emerge during the saying of that nothing.
Anxiously, Anneliese pulled on her sweatshirt and jeans.
‘Mum,’ said Beth from the door of the bedroom. ‘Mum, I know you’re not going to like this, but…’
‘I saw your father’s car,’ Anneliese said. ‘Beth, this isn’t a good idea.’
‘Mum, please.’ Beth came into the room and sat on the bed. ‘Please.’
‘I’m not able for this.’
‘But talking is good, Mum, and you haven’t spoken to each other since he left, Dad told me.’
‘So?’ snapped Anneliese, feeling suddenly angry. ‘What is there to talk about? That he’s sorry and can we all be friends and do this amicably? I can guess what he wants to talk to me about, and I don’t want to listen. Once upon a time, he told me he loved me, and all the time he was involved with Nell. So frankly, I’m not interested in anything your father has to tell me.’
Beth looked taken aback. Anneliese knew she should apologise. It wasn’t her daughter’s fault, after all, and she never spoke to Beth like that, but she was fed up with considering everyone else’s feelings before her own. That was the old Anneliese.
‘Beth,’ said Anneliese firmly, ‘I do not want to talk to your father. Now get him out of my house.’
‘Please, Mum.’ Beth’s eyes filled up with tears.
She looked so forlorn and Anneliese knew at that moment that she’d have to go down to talk to Edward.
‘How did you get him here?’ she asked.
‘I told him to do it for me. He didn’t want to come, but I know if the two of you would just talk to each other, it would help.’
Anneliese raised her eyes to heaven. She knew that Edward, like herself, could never deny their daughter anything. Even now when Anneliese couldn’t bear the thought of being in the same room as Edward, she knew she would endure that because it would make Beth happy.
Nobody else would be able to make her do it. They were hardly at the family-mediation stage, unless mediation involved throwing kitchen implements and screaming blue murder. Oh well, she’d talk to him for five minutes, that was all. Anneliese glanced at herself in the mirror. Her hair was wild and her face tired. She looked like she looked when she came in from a wild, windy walk on the beach, except that then she might have some glow in her cheeks and now she just looked drained. There was no point primping or beautifying. Edward had gone. He’d hardly come back just because she was wearing lipstick.
‘I’m ready,’ she said.
‘But your hair…’ began Beth.
‘My hair’s ready too,’ said Anneliese grimly.
Downstairs, Edward was standing just inside the front door, looking anxious. Sitting down on one of the armchairs was Marcus, looking more anxious. Anneliese was very fond of her son-in-law. He was kind and gentle as well as being a clever, thoughtful man. He probably thought it was an appalling idea to see his in-laws turning out-law and screaming at each other in the same room, but Marcus was another one who would do anything for Beth. She’d undoubtedly twisted his arm too to make him go along with this crackpot plan.
‘Do you want to come in?’ Anneliese said to her husband.
‘I wanted to wait until you invited me in properly,’ Edward said formally.
‘I think the time for formality is over,’ she snapped.
Edward sat on the edge of the armchair opposite Marcus.
‘Come on, darling – let’s go for a walk on the beach,’ said Beth, grabbing Marcus and hauling him to his feet.
‘Yeah, sure. We’ll be just outside if you need us,’ Marcus said, shooting anguished looks at both Edward and Anneliese.
Anneliese felt the faint stirrings of a grin.
‘I’m not going to kill him,’ she said reassuringly. ‘I’ll just rough him up a little bit, OK?’
Beth hustled Marcus out of the front door before he could respond to this.
‘I’m really sorry about my turning up, Anneliese,’ said Edward, still formal. ‘It’s just, Beth insisted.’
‘I know,’ said Anneliese. ‘I understand, not your fault.’
‘You’re being very magnanimous,’ Edward said.
‘I’m not magnanimous at all,’ Anneliese replied. ‘I’m
