Free Secrets and Lies by Janet Woods

took over the dinner, and then reorganized the kitchen to her liking, cleaning the shelves and tut-tutting over the task.
    ‘You needn’t do that,’ Meggie said. ‘You’re puffing yourself out, and Mummy always leaves it to the cleaning lady.’
    Helen awarded her observation with a frown, and a terse, ‘As I see. My son was brought up in a clean home, young lady, and I’ll be the judge of whether or not I’m . . . how did you put it . . . puffed out.’
    Their father didn’t come home for dinner, and the boys were so worried they ate their sprouts and carrots without complaint. Meggie told them a story about angels, to prepare them in case their mother died.
    Afterwards, she helped her brothers say their prayers, which would save her having to say her own separately, later on. ‘Bring Mummy and the baby home to us safely,’ she prayed, her eyes teary.
    The boys started to sniffle.
    ‘Amen,’ she said loudly, and they copied her. Because she felt holy at that moment, she thought she might become a nun when she grew up. Remembering the sober black robes they wore, the next second she abandoned the idea.
    When she went down Grandmother Elliot was asleep in a chair.
    Making her a cup of tea, Meggie served it with a slice of Madeira cake.
    Grandmother Elliot woke with a start. Her fuddled glance fell on the tea. ‘Thank you, dear. Are the boys asleep?’
    ‘Yes.’
    The telephone in the hall rang.
    ‘I expect it’s your stepfather.’ Grandmother Elliot was the only person who referred to him that way, at least, to her face. ‘I’ll get it, dear.’
    ‘Denton . . . is everything all right?’
    ‘I see . . . yes, the boys are organized and settled down in bed . . . Meggie is still up. No, it was no trouble. Would you like to speak to the girl?’
    Meggie nearly tripped over the edge of the carpet getting to the phone. ‘Hello Daddy, is everything all right?’
    ‘It’s bad news, I’m afraid, Meggie love. Your mother has lost the baby. He was too small to survive.’
    So, she would have had another brother. It was sad that he hadn’t survived, but she hadn’t seen him as a person so he didn’t seem quite real to her. ‘And Mummy? What about her . . . she’s not going to die, is she?’
    ‘Good Lord no.’
    An image appeared in Meggie’s mind of the three of them standing round Mother’s grave with their father. Their mother flew overhead in floating, filmy white garments. She had a spread of luminous wings and her hand clasped the podgy fist of a cherub. As a final touch, her imagination placed a golden trumpet in her mother’s mouth, so she could blow a fanfare to order St Peter to open the gates to heaven – if he happened to be on gate duty. On second thoughts she removed the trumpet. Her mother wasn’t very musical.
    Meggie didn’t want her mother to go to heaven yet, so she stopped that train of thought and concentrated on what her stepfather was saying.
    ‘Mummy’s a bit tired and sad, but she’ll be all right in a day or two, and should be home in about a week if all goes well. I won’t be home tonight. Can you manage?’
    ‘Yes . . . Grandmother Elliot is here. I’ll make the bed up in Aunt Esmé’s room for her, and put a hot water bottle in the bed to warm it. Give Mummy my love, and from the boys, as well. They’ve been really soppy, but ever so good.’
    ‘Tell them, well done. Goodnight, sweetheart. Sleep tight.’
    ‘Goodnight, Daddy. I’ll do my best to be helpful.’
    She made the bed, filled a hot water bottle and found a nightgown for Grandmother Elliot to wear.
    The woman sniffed the air in Esmé’s room like a bloodhound, and announced, ‘This room smells damp.’
    ‘It’s just cold, I think. There’s a radiator, and I’ve opened the valve to let the hot water fill it, so it’s beginning to warm. It will take a little while longer to warm the room, though. I wish I’d thought of it sooner. The room hasn’t been used since Auntie Es left, you