They’re both quiet. Even though they’re just getting to know one another, it’s a comfortable silence; their loss has forged a quick bridge. This is what happens when people share parts of themselves, Kate thinks. Maybe that’s why Audrey connected with Ian. He’s an open book that welcomes you to sit down and read.
Kate attempts to lighten the conversation. “Do you have any siblings?” She immediately regrets the question, fights a cringe. It feels like first-date banter.
“Yeah, a brother. Doug. Bit older than me.”
“Does he still live here too?”
“Nah. Manchester. We don’t really get on.” He doesn’t elaborate and Kate senses something silent pass by. “How about you? Any brothers or sisters?”
“No. Just me.”
She takes a big sip of her drink, scrambling for another question to ask. Her eyes flick over the slogan on her mug. KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON. A bit of a condescending mantra for anxious introverts and the trauma-plagued. But it reminds her of the war.
“I’ve been talking with Audrey about her time in Germany,” she says.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Well, so far it’s the time before the war, but she was in Berlin.” Kate stops, unsure she should be divulging this to Ian, who, however fond Audrey may be of him, clearly hasn’t heard it from her. “I’m hoping to hear more.”
Ian’s eyebrows pop up, impressed. “How’d you get her to talk?”
She thinks about the water ring and her immediate suspicion that Ian had been the culprit. “We sort of stumbled onto it.”
He’s expectant, but Kate sips her coffee. Her cup is nearly empty, but she finds herself debating on a refill. It’s rather cozy here in the café.
“I’ve been thinking more and more that she should write it all down,” she says. “Her story.”
“She doesn’t want to?”
“I get the sense she just wants to talk about it.”
Ian pushes up his glasses again, runs his thumb over the handle of his own mug. His brow knits below his sweep of fringe.
“Well… what if you wrote it down for her?”
The next day, Kate is cleaning the kitchen after supper whilst Audrey finishes some business paperwork in the office. She’s been private about the financials, and Kate wonders how she’s going to successfully take on her new role as the administrator when her employer appears hell-bent on refusing to relinquish any modicum of control. Perhaps this job will turn out to be a failed experiment, but at least she’ll have gotten to spend some time here, tracing her parents’ footsteps and getting to know Audrey, who mentioned during supper that she wanted to have another of their “chats” tonight, a euphemism for opening up again about her story.
Kate sets the final dish on the rack beside the sink, puts the coffee on, and heads to the sitting room. Audrey is already settled into her usual chair, Sophie on her lap.
“Coffee’ll be ready soon,” Kate says.
She gives Ozzie a thorough belly rub over on the dog bed before taking the seat across from Audrey. The curtains have been drawn since dusk—four o’clock this far north, at this time of year—against the snow that began late this morning. A fire crackles on the hearth.
“Did you enjoy your trip to Barter’s yesterday?” Audrey asks her, stroking a deliciously relaxed Sophie, who closes her eyes against her mistress’s hand. If she were a cat, she’d be purring.
“Yeah, it’s a great place. Ian showed me around.”
“You ran into Ian?”
“Yeah. We had a drink when I got your beans.”
“How is he doing? I haven’t talked to him since he was last here,” Audrey says.
Kate doesn’t feel qualified to answer, really. “He seemed fine. Good. We had a chat.”
“Oh yes? What did you talk about?”
Kate’s getting used to Audrey’s directness, though sometimes she feels a little like she’s being interrogated. “This and that. He told me a bit about his family. His dad. Sad story there.”
Audrey nods slowly. “It was a dreadful thing, that. Tore the family apart.”
Her words chafe at Kate like rough wool. “He said it was particularly hard on his mum.”
“Oh, God, yes. I don’t think Janet’s moved past it, all these years later. And for what the whole Huntington’s business did to the boys…”
“What do you mean?” Kate asks.
Audrey shoots her a sidelong look. “How much did he tell you?”
“Er, well, I don’t know. He said his dad died of a brain disease when he was fifteen. And that he and his brother don’t get on, but his mum is still here in Alnwick.”
Audrey shifts in her seat. “Huntington’s is hereditary. Ian’s father didn’t know he had it until after they’d had the boys. There’s a blood test to determine it. I don’t think Janet wanted them to take it, but both boys did, several years ago. Doug has the gene. Ian doesn’t. And it ripped them apart.”
Kate gapes in dismay.
Audrey sighs. “Doug hasn’t spoken to Ian in years. I suppose that’s one of the reasons why poor Janet was against the testing. Perhaps she foresaw the impact on the family, of knowing another of them was doomed to the same terrible fate. Or perhaps she didn’t want to know herself.”
Kate considers it for a moment. “I can understand wanting to know, though. I think I’d want to know, if it were me.”
