Free The Hawthorns Bloom in May by Anne Doughty Page A

doorway.
    ‘Sarah, I wasn’t expecting you. How lovely to see you.’
    Sarah looked at her closely.
    ‘Were you asleep, Ma?’
    ‘Yes, I must have been,’ Rose agreed, stretching. ‘I sat down to have a think and I found myself back in Ardtur and then in Annacramp.
    ‘Was it a nice dream?’
    Rose smiled. There was something in the way Sarah had asked her question that reminded her of the dark haired child who would ask and ask and ask again till she was satisfied. It had been wearing at times, but she’d never resented it, for Sarah made such an effort to understand what was happening around her, even as a little girl.
    ‘No, it wasn’t,’ she admitted, shaking her head. ‘It was about the bad times. And it made me think of the
Titanic
all over again.’
    Sarah nodded as she sat down opposite.
    ‘I was talking to Richard the other day,’ she began easily. ‘He says he has patients coming to him with a whole variety of complaints and when he sits down to talk to them, they end up asking him what he thinks about the
Titanic
. He says there’ve been so many, he’s watching out for it now.’
    ‘Why does Richard think it’s upset them?’
    ‘He says it’s made them feel insecure, but Elizabeth says it’s just
reminded
them how insecure we all are.’
    Rose smiled.
    ‘Dear Elizabeth, she can always go one step further. What do
you
think, Sarah?’
    Rose watched as a familiar frown appeared on Sarah’s face. There was something about her today that kept reminding her of the lively child and passionate young woman she’d once been. Just seeing her had made her feel better already.
    ‘I think the only security we have is knowing there are a few people who care about us,’ she began. ‘We can’t do anything about being killed in a rail crash, or drowning on a voyage, or catching typhoid in the summer, but if we have a few people who love us, we can do something about being sad, or hurt, or in despair, as I was a few weeks ago when I sat in this chair and bawled,’ she ended with a sudden beaming smile.
    Rose got up and gave her a kiss.
    ‘I’m so glad you came, love. I wasn’t crying, but I was very low. And I couldn’t see my way. I think I can now.’
    ‘What was upsetting you, Ma?’
    ‘I’m not sure, but it was certainly about not being able to stop things happening. I worry about your father. He gets so tired these days and the board meetings are a great burden to him. And then there’s Sam and Martha and the wee ones. I can’t see what life Sam has apart from his work. And I doubt if Martha will ever change.’
    ‘No,
she
won’t change,’ Sarah agreed, noddingvigorously. ‘She’s too committed to her own invincible ignorance. She’d see any change as giving in. She’ll never give in. And there’s plenty like her.’
    ‘Sarah!’ Rose expostulated, amazed she should be quite so ferocious.
    ‘Not much point mincing words, Ma, she’s irredeemable,’ Sarah added cheerfully. ‘She’s absolutely convinced that what she thinks is right and whatever she does is the only possible way of doing things. Don’t you think?’
    ‘Yes, to be honest I do, but I was trying to keep an open mind or give her the benefit of the doubt,’ she replied, nodding. ‘Perhaps I just couldn’t face the thought of what Sam has to live with.’
    ‘Sam’ll find a way. But he won’t find it till he stands up to her. And he hasn’t done that yet, but he will. He’s not as soft as he looks, Ma.’
    Rose nodded, sure that Sarah was right, as she’d been right about so many people, even as a child. Suddenly and unexpectedly, she realised that she and Sarah hadn’t talked like this for a very long time. Before Hugh died and the children had gone away to school, Sarah had worked as long hours at the mills as Hugh himself. What little leisure they had, they’d devoted to the children. Since his death she’d seen her almost every day, but it wasn’t the Sarah who now sat opposite her, talking about her