Free The Secrets Women Keep by Fanny Blake Page B

back into the bag and put them next to the cooling rack.
    ‘Can I do anything?’ This was Anna’s way of making up.
    Rose could feel her own relief at the return of Anna’s good humour. ‘Not really. But you could dig out the Happy Birthday banner and pin it up.’
    ‘Are you sure? Isn’t she a bit old for that sort of thing?’ Realising how scathing she sounded, Anna modified her tone. ‘Wouldn’t something a bit more sophisticated
be better?’
    ‘If you can think of something, then by all means.’ But Rose knew that Anna, like the rest of them, relied on these totems from the past. These familiar and well-loved traditions saw
them through every year.
    Anna had already opened the cupboard at the far end of the room and was rootling about. ‘Oh my God. I can’t believe you kept this.’ She pulled out a broken piñata
– a donkey made out of frills of green, yellow and pink paper, one ear hanging off, a useless remnant of her twenty-first party that Rose hadn’t been able to bring herself to throw
away, for silly sentimental reasons. As she tried to unearth the banner, Anna spoke again, this time more tentatively. ‘You don’t think the idea of a garden centre’s mad, do
you?’
    The need for reassurance was a touching reminder of the child Anna had been.
    Rose chose her words carefully. ‘No, not mad exactly.’
    ‘Well if not mad, then what?’ Immediately Anna was on the defensive. ‘It’s exactly what our area needs. Lots of gardens, nowhere to buy plants. It’s just a question
of finding the right property.’
    ‘Really?’ Rose said vaguely as she tried to smooth out the crushed Happy Birthday banner, wishing she’d had the forethought to buy a new one. ‘I’m sure you could
make it work. It’s just that—’
    But Anna didn’t let her finish. ‘Well then, Dad’s just got to help us. You’ll talk to him, won’t you?’
    So that was the reason for her apology. Good old Anna, always to be relied on to think of number one.
    ‘Darling, there’s no need for me to talk to him. All you have to do is produce the paperwork he’s asked for.’
    ‘I might have known you’d be on his side.’ Anna got up, the heel of her espadrille catching in the hem of her skirt. She righted it with a frustrated tug that ripped the
stitching. ‘Shit!’ The bangles rattled.
    ‘I’m not on anyone’s side,’ protested Rose, but her words were wasted on her daughter, who was already disappearing down the corridor.
    Rose sat back on her knees and sighed, closing her eyes and, with her thumbs pressing against her cheekbones, massaged her temples in slow, soothing circles while waiting for Anna to return. Her
daughter never gave up that easily. If only she could be more like Jess instead of constantly swimming against the current. They had always been so different. While Jess worked in the hotel bar or
as a chambermaid during the school holidays, Anna would be mucking out at the local riding school or working as a track hand at the nearby go-kart circuit. When Jess was at home playing or reading,
Anna would escape for hours with their Border terrier, Button, down to the beach or the long wooded valley that stretched inland near the hotel. They had no need of the company of anyone else.
Those days were easy in comparison with this.
    She didn’t have to wait for long. The smell of the brownies was filling the kitchen when her daughter returned, obviously having composed herself to try again.
    ‘If it’s being fair to Jess that’s worrying you both, I really don’t think you should.’
    ‘I suspect that’s not Dad’s main concern.’ Leaving the banner on the table, Rose took the brownies from the oven, plunging a skewer into the nearest.
    ‘She has got the hotel, after all.’
    Rose studied the chocolate goo on the skewer, satisfied. Then, ‘Hardly “got”,’ she corrected.
    ‘Maybe not, technically. But it’s only a matter of time. She’s managing Trevarrick now. I know she’s