A tear rolled down Milly’s cheek and fell into her lap. In that moment she honestly thought her heart would break into a million pieces.
‘I can’t help what I feel, Millicent, but perhaps when I’m gone you can put all this behind you. After all, you will be a very rich woman.’
‘Life isn’t all about money, Mother,’ Milly snapped.
‘Oh, but to me it is,’ said Agatha. ‘Now you came here for something. What do you want?’
Milly rose to her feet. ‘Nothing,’ she said with what little dignity she could muster. ‘Absolutely nothing.’
‘Then I think it best if you leave now. We have nothing more to say to each other.’
Agatha followed her to the door. ‘Goodbye, Millicent,’ she said as Milly went through. ‘Oh, and if you’re going down to the cottage, tell that scruffy gypsy friend of yours to keep his dog under control, will you?’
Milly turned to retaliate, but the door was already closed.
Chapter 37
Seebold and Lena were both startled when Milly burst into the cottage. She was incandescent with rage, an emotion which they had never seen in her before.
‘Whatever is wrong?’ Lena cried.
Milly began to tell them but it took some time before they understood. As soon as she knew what had happened, Lena put her arms around her sister’s shoulders, while Seebold sat staring into space. Both of them struggled with how horrible Agatha had been to her.
‘Oh, Milly,’ said Lena. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’
All at once, Seebold got to his feet and dragged on his coat.
‘Where are you going?’ Lena asked.
‘Up to the house to have it out with her,’ he said angrily.
Lena followed him to the door. ‘Best not,’ she said calmly and in a low voice. ‘Let it go.’
‘Best not!’ he shouted. ‘That woman can say all that to her own daughter and you say to let it go?’ He pulled the door open but Lena held onto his sleeve.
‘You’ll only make things worse,’ she said desperately. ‘Right now, your friend needs your comfort not your anger.’ She felt the tension in his arm relax. ‘She’s hurt,’ Lena went on. ‘Stay with her. Help her, Seebold. We’ll work out what to do afterwards.’
So he sat next to Milly and, trembling, took her hand, while Lena did her best to say something which might comfort her sister and make her mother’s cruel words hurt a little less. Later, when things had calmed down a little, Lena made a point of reminding Milly how much their father had loved her; that he’d even given up a chance of marriage to the woman he loved to be able to have her in his life. Little by little, Milly began to look at things in a different way. The agony was still there but her two friends finally managed to convince her that Agatha was the one with the problem.
‘She’s a bitter, stunted and cruel woman,’ Lena counselled. ‘Don’t let her rule your life any longer.’
‘You deserve better,’ Seebold said sagely.
For Milly the greatest torment was not being able to change anything. For years she had dreamed of the day when her mother would take her in her arms and say, ‘Oh Milly, I’ve been so unkind to you and I am really, really sorry. Please forgive me. You are my daughter and I love you so much.’ But now, of course, it was blindingly obvious that that would never happen. In one sense it was painful, but in another it was strangely liberating. She didn’t need to spend any more time trying to make her mother love her, as now she knew for sure she never would.
Lena grasped her sister’s hands. ‘Just remember how much Pa adored you,’ she whispered.
Milly looked up. ‘Did he?’ she said, her tone harsh and unbelieving.
Lena gave her a wounded look. ‘Of course he did.’ She paused. ‘Surely he must have told you that in his letter.’
‘I never read his letter,’ said Milly.
‘Why ever not?’ Lena gasped.
Milly shrugged. ‘I don’t know. It never seemed to be the right time.’
‘Look, why don’t we talk to Nan?’ Lena suggested. ‘She’s known you since we were just kids. You know how much she loves you. You’re like a daughter to her.’
As soon as she’d said it, Milly longed for Nan’s comforting arms around her. ‘And bring Pa’s letter with you,’ said Lena. ‘I haven’t a clue what he might have said but I’m sure he would have been loving and kind.’
A little later, Seebold took both girls to Nan and Cyril’s cottage at the bottom of Bost Hill in his lorry. Cyril had taken the bus to Horsham to see his sick brother and wouldn’t be back until Sunday but, as usual, Nan was more than welcoming, and the two girls spent the late afternoon and early evening talking with her. ‘All girls together,’ the older woman said as she poured them tea. Milly was pleased to have Nan’s wise counsel. And now that everyone was being honest, Nan admitted that there was no love lost between herself and Agatha but, for the sake of the girls, she had done her best to never let it show.
‘It was the same with Mabel Cunningham,’ she said. ‘As far as we were concerned, your dear father was our employer. We always did our best to be there for his sake.’
‘I had no idea,’ Milly admitted.
‘Of course, Mabel was better than me,’ Nan confessed. ‘She stuck it out a lot longer than I did.’
As they raked over the past, Milly began to understand why she had always been so close to Nan. The reason was quite simple, but it had never dawned on her before. Dear, sweet Nan had become a sort of surrogate mother, and now she understood that, Milly loved Nan all the more for it.
After they had comforted her, Milly decided to sit in the orchard where she could read her father’s letter in private. They took a chair out for her and Nan made sure she was comfortable. As they left her, Lena gently rubbed Milly’s arm and Nan squeezed her hand. ‘It’ll be all right, my dear,’ she promised.
It was peaceful in the orchard. The dappled late afternoon sun was welcoming and only the sound of birdsong or the buzzing of an occasional bee broke the silence. Nan and Bodkin, the gardener from Muntham Court, were brother and sister, so when her father had arranged a new home for Cleo, the cat who had scratched Pearl all those years ago, this was where she had come. Every time Milly visited Nan in her school holidays, she and the old cat spent some precious times together until Cleo had died of old age the previous year. Nan’s husband, Cyril, buried her under the apple tree in the orchard, the spot where she liked to sleep during the day. Now Milly sat under the same tree and leaned against the trunk as she finally opened the envelope she had been given the day they had buried her beloved father.
My darling Milly
I hardly know how to begin this letter because I know that if you are reading it, I am dead. Things will be difficult for a while but I don’t want you to grieve too much for me, my darling. I had a good life and you were such a joy to me. I loved every moment I spent with you and I am so proud of your achievements. Something tells me that you will one day use your artistic talent in ways you never even dreamt of. But don’t rest on your laurels, will you? Always work hard and aim for the next level, whatever that may be and wherever it takes you.
