Page 29 of The Sunrise Sisterhood

‘Yes, we insist,’ Camilla agreed. ‘Please, just this once.’

There were always four chairs set up for afternoon tea. Liz usually managed to make excuses not to join them, but today it appeared resistance was futile.

Liz sat. Camilla and Agatha exchanged gleeful looks.

‘So. You mentioned an ex-husband?’ Camilla prompted.

‘How’s the crab, Mum?’ Patrick said, in an attempt to distract her.

‘Delicious. Are you courting, Elizabeth?’ she continued.

Patrick stood up. ‘Liz, I’m going to fetch you a cup and saucer. No arguments.’

He was such a nice man, Liz thought, watching him leave the room. He carried perhaps a tiny bit more weight than Mike, but it suited him. Today, his nose was peeling, and the tips of his ears were a little sunburned. A complete contrast to Mike, whose year-round tan was suspiciously even. The men couldn’t be more different: Mike was in denial about his age, Patrick was completely at ease with his.

Agatha’s cup clattered in its saucer, jolting Liz back to the conversation.

‘I’m footloose and fancy-free,’ she replied, remembering the question.

‘That’s why you’ve got such lovely skin. Not a wrinkle,’ said Camilla wisely, folding watercress between her fingers and popping it into her mouth.

‘The benefits of being plump,’ said Liz, ‘I’ve got natural padding.’

‘Rubbish,’ said the sisters together.

‘That must be why your face looks like a whoopie cushion minus the whoop, Camilla,’ Agatha tittered. ‘Because you had three husbands.’

Three husbands? Liz marvelled. She hadn’t even managed to hang on to one.

Camilla harrumphed. ‘All the best things come in threes. Like the three bears, or the three wise men. Or perhaps the three stooges in my case.’ She muttered this last bit as Patrick reappeared with a cup for Liz. ‘Did you divorce, Elizabeth?’

‘Or are you widowed maybe, like Patrick?’ Agatha bit the corner off a sandwich and chewed. ‘Patrick has been on his own for eight years, you know. Rattling around in this big old house.’

A house which still had framed photographs of him and his wife in every room, Liz noted. He’d clearly loved his wife dearly and Liz felt a bit sorry for him that his mother and aunt badgered him so much to replace her.

‘I think you might have mentioned that once or twice, Auntie,’ said her nephew wryly. He piled some sandwiches onto a plate and began to eat. Not a man who cared about eating too many carbs, Liz noted. Good for him.

‘We divorced,’ she said, pouring herself some tea from the pot. ‘It was very sad, but it was for the best. Seventeen years ago now.’

Jonathan had remarried. His new wife had already had two children with a previous partner and Jonathan had thrown himself into family life. The last Liz heard, he was now a very happy grandfather.

‘Cheat on you, did he?’ Camilla pursed her lips.

Agatha gave a disgusted huff. ‘Can’t bear cheats.’

Liz felt uncomfortable. She could lie and put all the blame on Jonathan, but she was rubbish at lying, except the one big deception she’d been carrying since university.

‘It wasn’t him, it was me.’

Patrick choked and banged his chest. ‘Horseradish,’ he gasped, turning puce.

‘Oh my!’ Camilla clutched her throat.

Agatha gave a delighted gasp. ‘Was it a torrid love affair and you just couldn’t help yourself?’

‘Good Lord, Auntie!’ Patrick croaked.

‘I wasn’t unfaithful,’ Liz was quick to clarify, ‘but I … It sounds so silly when I say it out loud, but I didn’t love my husband the way he loved me.’