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‘Oh, Dad,’ Fleur said, sounding frustrated. ‘There’s nothing hard for Irma in the life you’ve given her. She’s fortunate you’re so big-hearted.’
‘You miss your mother, I underst—’
‘Don’t you?’ She regretted the accusatory tone immediately as pain fleeted across his features, taking them from that resting expression she knew and loved to one of grief again.
‘Every day, child. But you needed a mother back then, can’t you see that?’
She nodded but it was a lie. She had never needed anyone but the person who had died, and once Mae was gone, Fleur would have got along as best she could with one parent. But she knew he would tell her that Irma came into their lives for the right reasons. And she would take that moment, if it presented itself, to express as sharply as she dared that Irma was an actress and only pretended to love them, that she hadn’t had much to say to Fleur since she’d first bled and been considered a young woman, no longer a child.
‘Irma sees you as family, Fleur.’
She fixed her gaze to his. ‘Irma sees me as a rival, Dad. For your love, for your business, for your property – and especially your bank account.’
He gave a groan of despair as the very woman they were discussing called out again.
‘Henry!’ Her shrill voice came from the room where the coffee was clearly cooling to where they were now all but whispering.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We’ll talk at length about what you have in mind tomorrow, when we’re in the mortuary. Right now, let’s just keep the peace, can we?’
She gave her father a small smile with a nod and stood. The meeting tomorrow was a positive step. ‘All right. Tomorrow.’
They moved to the sitting room where Irma waited. ‘What were you both whispering about in there?’ she asked in the caustic tone that was natural to her.
‘Nothing of importance, dear.’
Fleur refused to let her father be interrogated in front of her or to make excuses for having a private chat with him. She was more than comfortable telling untruths to Irma if it protected him. ‘We weren’t whispering, just speaking quietly about work. I was reminding my father of the embalming we are doing for not one but two people in readiness for a family viewing.’
‘Ugh, don’t talk to me about corpses, child,’ Irma said, with a glare at Nan. ‘Pour the coffee and that will be all,’ she said to Nan in a dismissive tone. ‘Mr Appleby’s here now.’
Fleur cut Nan a look of apology. ‘Actually, Nan, I can do this. You finish up in the kitchen and get back to your family.’
Nan curtsied and couldn’t get out of the room fast enough.
‘Fleur, I’ll thank you not to interfere with the home help. I am training that woman.’
‘You’re frightening her, Irma. She’ll respond easier to a less cutting tone.’
‘Don’t tell me how to run my household staff.’
Fleur wanted to laugh at her stepmother’s pretensions, and remind her that they were living near the port, surrounded by the families of sailors and dock workers, but she saw her father’s forehead wrinkle into a deep frown.
‘Now, now, please,’ Henry spoke up. ‘Let’s drink our coffee in calm. I think Nan’s coming along well. You’re doing a good job, my dear,’ he placated Irma.
Irma, trembling slightly in her pleasure at being exonerated, slung a look of triumph in Fleur’s direction. ‘Let me pour.’ She did so, handing her husband his cup and saucer and leaving Fleur to fetch her own.
Henry swallowed his coffee in two gulps, giving a sigh. ‘Our coffee tastes strange these days.’
‘I’ll make the next pot, my dear. I don’t think that woman knows how to make it.’
‘No, no, it’s fine. Well, ladies, I shall be on my way.’
‘Oh, Henry, please. Not the Prince of Wales tonight.’
‘My dear, the pub is where us undertakers do our business in Alberton and discuss matters relating to our industry. And I must keep an eye on my competition.’
Irma put down her cup and saucer, her rings constricting the fattened flesh around several fingers. ‘Well, don’t forget what we discussed.’
There was a pointed tone to Irma’s words that Fleur picked up on instantly. She looked between them over the rim of her cup and saw her father’s expression of consternation as he rummaged back through what must have been various forgettable conversations with his second wife.
