Rainy Day Sisters (13 page)

“Thank you for the whiskey,” she finally said.

“Anytime, Juliet,” Peter answered. “Anytime.”

She left Peter's house and strode down the dirt track, stumbling a bit in the darkness. Back at the house she tidied up the kitchen before going up to bed; she'd told the Scottish lads to lock up after they came back after the pub's last call. She paused for a second on the landing, but all was quiet from Lucy's room.

She'd just changed into her sensible fleece pajamas and was getting into bed to read the gritty crime thriller that was a blessed escape from her own life when she heard a soft, hesitant knock on the door. She slid out of bed and went to open the door, surprised to see Lucy even though it couldn't have been anyone else.

“Do you . . . do you have a moment?” Lucy asked, and Juliet nodded. Lucy came into her bedroom, looking young and vulnerable with hair frizzing all about her face; she was wearing a pair of pajamas covered in dancing Snoopys. Juliet waited, arms folded. “How well do you know Alex Kincaid?”

Juliet blinked. “Not very well.”

“Do you know him well enough to know how he might take a . . . a bit of advice?”

“It depends what the advice is regarding.”

She must have had some kind of skeptical look on her face, because Lucy let out a little laugh and said, “I know you're probably thinking there's nothing I could advise him on.”

“I don't have an opinion on the subject.” She sounded so prickly. So prissy. And yet she didn't know how to keep herself from it.

“Well, it's what I would be thinking,” Lucy said. “Except in this case . . .” She hesitated, and Juliet raised her eyebrows.

“In this case?” she prompted, a touch of impatience to her voice. Clearly Lucy wanted her to ask.

“I think his daughter Bella would appreciate this advice,” Lucy said. “Eventually.”

“Bella?” Juliet stared at her. She'd seen Alex's daughters in the village, two solemn-faced girls, the older one slouchy and sullen and the younger dreamy and lost. She'd said hello to them a few times, both before and after Anna had died, but that was all. “How do you even know Bella?”

“She came into school yesterday. She's been suspended.”

“For what?”

“Skipping PE.”

“They suspend children for bunking off PE now?” Juliet asked, and Lucy shrugged.

“I think there's more to the story.”

“So what advice do you want to give Alex?” Juliet was curious now, in spite of her intention to remain removed.

“Well . . . Bella kind of needs a bra,” Lucy said, and then added, “Actually, there's no ‘kind of' about it.”

Juliet stared at her. “A bra,” she said, without inflection, because that was just about the last thing she'd been expecting.

“I don't think her father realizes it. Which isn't all that surprising, really.”

Lucy gave a wry smile while Juliet just stared, and then all of a sudden, because it was so absurd, or maybe because her emotions were so close to the surface, she burst out laughing. Lucy stared at her in shock as Juliet sank onto the bed, her arms wrapped around her middle, and then Lucy started laughing too, her hands pressed to her mouth, both of them in the throes of the kind of silent-shaking, eyes-streaming, helpless laughter that took them over completely.

It felt good to release all the excess emotion. Finally she pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and took a steadying breath.

“A bra,” she said. “Poor Alex.”

“Poor me, because I'm the one who's got to tell him.”

“And he's got to buy it.” Juliet's laughter subsided completely then, because while the situation was funny, it was also desperately sad.

Lucy must have sensed the shift in her mood because she asked quietly, “Were you friends with his wife?”

“Anna?” Juliet considered. “I wouldn't say friends, exactly.” She didn't know whom she'd call her friend, except maybe Rachel.

Then she thought of Peter's steady gaze on her as they drank whiskey in his kitchen, and pushed the memory away. “We were friendly,” she told Lucy. “She kept her horse in the stables behind the house and I'd chat with her when she got ready to go riding. She didn't seem very happy here, though.”

“She didn't?”

Juliet shrugged. “She spent a lot of time riding, and I got the sense she was more of a city girl.”

“Why did Alex move here, then?”

“Why does anyone move here? Anyway,” Juliet said, rising from the bed. “If Bella really does need a bra, then you have to tell Alex. I don't think anyone else will.”

“Surely someone . . .”

“He's a bit of a loner. Works all the time. I'm sure some single mums in the village have set their sights on him, but not enough to do him that kind of favor.”

Lucy grimaced. “Except for me.”

“Except for you,” Juliet agreed. The laughter they'd shared had loosened something between them, and now she felt it inexorably tightening again. “It's late. I should go to bed.” Which was unsubtle code for
Get out of my room.

Lucy nodded; message received. “Thanks,” she said, turning to Juliet, taking a step forward as if she might actually hug her before she stopped. “Thanks for listening.”

Juliet swallowed. Lucy's gratitude made her feel guilty for how little she'd offered. She nodded, and Lucy headed back to her room. Quietly Juliet closed the door. Her stomach muscles actually ached from laughing. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd laughed like that; she knew only that it had been a very long time.

Lucy

LUCY SPENT A SLEEPLESS
night debating how to handle the rather sensitive topic of Bella and her bra—or lack of it. She was pretty sure Alex had no idea what his daughter needed. And Bella had no way to go into town and buy herself one, if she were so inclined, which Lucy doubted she was. She remembered the first time she'd bought a bra with her mother and cringed, even now. It had been utterly mortifying.

But the girl couldn't go to school without a bra, and while Lucy knew it wasn't her problem—she didn't want it to
be
her problem—she also knew that she had to say something.

But how?

She was still mulling over the dilemma the next morning, after she'd fired up the computer and the kettle, as she stared out at the school yard, now bathed in golden light. Alex came in with both Bella and his younger daughter, Poppy, in tow.

“Is it all right if Bella spends the morning in here?” he asked, and Lucy wondered what he would do if she said no. “She's brought her homework.”

“Of course, no problem.” Lucy gave them both a sunny smile; Bella was wearing a huge black jumper that came down to her skinny-jean-clad knees. At least it covered her properly. Lucy swallowed a nervous laugh. “Umm . . . make yourself comfortable.”

That bit of politeness earned her a curled lip from Bella, who threw herself into the chair in the corner, dropping her bag by her feet. It was, Lucy suspected, going to be a very long day.

She turned back to find Poppy inspecting her solemnly. “You talk funny.”

That nervous little laugh she'd swallowed escaped in a bubble of sound. “Actually, I think you talk funny. So I guess we're even.”

Poppy considered this for a moment before nodding in acceptance. Lucy met Alex's gaze above his daughter's head and her heart lurched at his expression, which was unreadable as always, and yet—

Was it just wishful thinking to believe there was something tender beneath the sternness?

Yes, Lucy told herself resolutely. Yes, it was.

Alex went to his office and Poppy skipped off to her classroom, and Lucy was left with Bella, who filled the tiny space with her silent malevolence.

The hours dragged by as Bella picked her nails and refused to do any work. She asked if she could use the Internet on Lucy's computer, and let out a long-suffering sigh when Lucy refused. She took herself off for lunch with the older school pupils, and Lucy breathed a sigh of relief. A whole half hour to herself. Thank goodness.

“Is everything going all right?”

“Oh.” She looked up to see Alex standing in the doorway, his expression caught between a scowl and a smile.

“Yes, fine.”

“She goes back to school the day after tomorrow.” He shook his head, his expression closing, his arms folded. “She never used to do this. Bunking off class.”

“Maybe there's a reason,” Lucy ventured, and Alex shook his head again.

“I asked, and she wouldn't give me one. Send her to me if she gives you any trouble.” He turned to go back to his office, and Lucy felt her heart start to beat hard. Her hands went clammy.

Taking a deep breath, she rose from her desk. “Umm . . . Alex?”

He glanced back at her. “What is it?”

“Could I talk to you for a sec? In your office?”

Alex frowned, and then nodded. Lucy followed him into his office and closed the door, resisting the urge to wipe her damp palms along the sides of her skirt. She shouldn't be nervous about this.

“What's going on?” he asked, his voice touched with impatience.

“It's about Bella.”

“She
did
cause trouble—”

“No, it's not that. It's just . . . I think I know what's causing her problems at school.”

Alex's forehead furrowed. “You do?”

“Yes . . . I spoke to her while she was in the office yesterday. . . .”

“And she said something to you?”

Lucy couldn't quite make out Alex's tone, whether he was surprised or disbelieving or even a little miffed. “It's more what she didn't say.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look, Alex . . . I know your wife died a year and a half ago. . . .”

He folded his arms. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Don't you think losing her mother might have something to do with Bella's problems?” Lucy asked. How emotionally clueless was this guy?

“Look, I know Bella and Poppy are grieving,” he answered, his voice tight. “But as I can't bring their mother back, there's not much I can do about it besides what I already do. And while I appreciate this illuminating psychological insight, I'm not sure what you're trying to get at.” He glared at her, his arms still folded.

“Look, I'm not trying to offer some
illuminating psychological insight
,” Lucy told him, her voice taking on a slight edge. “I'm just pointing out that Bella hasn't had a woman around to help her out with—some things.”

“She has me,” Alex said staunchly, and Lucy just about kept herself from rolling her eyes.

“All right, look, Alex, here's the deal. Bella needs a bra.” Alex's expression didn't change. He blinked several times, opened his mouth, and said nothing. “I think that's why she got suspended. She'd been avoiding PE because she doesn't want to change her clothes in front of everyone.” The words came in a rush as she remembered her own miserable middle school years. Being bullied
sucked
, and that, at least, was something she had no qualms telling Alex about. “I think kids are teasing her about it. I think maybe they're taking her sweaters, too.”

“Her jumpers?” Alex sat up straighter. “She's lost two since school started. I shouted at her about it, told her she needed to keep track of her things.”

“I'm guessing kids are hiding them—”

He turned to her, his expression now fierce. “You think some bully is nicking my daughter's clothes?”

“I think,” Lucy answered, “that someone is making your daughter's life miserable. She's being bullied because she doesn't have a bra. It might seem like a small thing to you, but girls can be vicious. Taking her sweaters and teasing her during PE could be just the tip of the iceberg. Why did she get suspended exactly, anyway? It wasn't for missing just one class, was it?”

Alex didn't answer for a moment. “She skipped PE,” he finally said flatly. “As you know. She hid in the bathroom and when the teacher found her, she refused point-blank to go. Said some nasty things about the teacher and the class and—
damn
. I should have . . .” He shook his head, then closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “She told you all this?”

“Not exactly.”

“What do you mean?” Alex opened his eyes and subjected her to a rather narrowed gaze. “You're just guessing?”

“I'm a pretty good guesser when it comes to crap that happens in middle school,” Lucy answered shortly. “I was bullied myself when I was Bella's age. I recognize the signs.” Although she hadn't lashed out the way Bella was. She'd just kept smiling.

Alex was silent for a long moment. Finally he glanced up at Lucy, and the vulnerability in his eyes made something in her ache. She clamped down on the feeling, hard. She wasn't going to go start
feeling
things for Alex Kincaid and dreaming of the way she could help him and his poor, motherless family. No, she really wasn't.

“What should I do?” he asked, and there was that ache again.

“Buy her a bra, for starters.”

Alex winced. “I don't . . .”

“
Alex.
Come on. You've got two daughters. You're a single dad. They need you to do this kind of stuff for them.”

“Talking to Bella about undergarments would mortify her. As you've seen, our relationship isn't that great to begin with.”

Undergarments?
Seriously? She saw that the back of his neck and the tips of his ears had gone red. He was embarrassed, although to be fair she had started out that way. Now she was possessed with a resolute determination to see Bella properly clothed. “Well, how is she supposed to get one, then?” she asked, exasperation creeping into her tone.

“I could buy it off the Internet—”

“She needs to try it on.”

His ears went even redder. “I can't . . .” He glanced up at her. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“You could take her shopping,” Alex said, clearly having a lightbulb moment, and Lucy's jaw dropped.

“Alex, I met her yesterday. I'm a complete stranger—”

“She told you more than she's told me or any other adult,” Alex cut her off, his voice taking on that steely, determined quality she was coming to recognize. “Why not you?”

“Surely there's someone else who is closer to her,” Lucy protested, but Alex shook his head.

“We—we don't have people like that in our life.”

She eyed him with both curiosity and an insuppressible compassion. “No one?”

“Her grandmother would do it, but she lives down near London and we're not going down there until half term. This sounds urgent.”

“It is urgent,” Lucy said firmly.

“Well, then?”

It was ironic, really, that for three years she'd tried to insinuate herself into Thomas's sons' lives, only to be continually pushed away. And here she was, not long in Hartley-by-the-Sea, determined not to make the same mistake again . . . going bra shopping with a preteen she wasn't sure she even liked. “Fine. I'll do it. When is she going back to school?”

“Thursday.”

“I'd go tomorrow, but I think the shops close at four.” She'd learned last week, to her amazement, that Whitehaven emptied out by late afternoon.

“Country hours,” Juliet had informed her. “All part of the West Cumbrian charm.”

“You can have the afternoon off, fully paid,” Alex said quickly. “I'll ask Maggie—”

“She's in Newcastle.”

“We'll manage,” he said firmly. “If you're here for the morning rush of calls, we should be fine. I don't mind taking my own calls. I did it at the start, you might recall.”

“Hey, I don't drop that many calls anymore,” Lucy protested, and Alex gave her a small smile.

“There has been some improvement,” he allowed.

“Well, thanks for that. But back to Bella.” Lucy leveled him with a look, or tried to. “You need to be able to talk to her about these things, or find a woman in your life who can. She'll probably get her period soon—”

Alex winced but met Lucy's gaze. “I have actually thought of that,” he told her. “A little.”

She gazed at him; his ears and neck were a normal color now, but he still looked pretty uncomfortable. Lucy was half-amazed at all the things she'd said. What on earth had possessed her?

Just a scorching memory of her own middle school years. If she could save any girl that misery, she would. “I'll talk to her now,” she said, and Alex eyed her with undisguised relief.

“Thank you, Lucy. I really do appreciate this.”

“I bet you do,” she retorted, and he smiled again, just a little quirk, but it still made Lucy grin back. She turned away from him and went in search of Bella.

Lunch had finished and so she headed out to the school yard, where Years Five and Six were playing. She scanned the playground, and caught sight of Oliver Jones tussling with a boy a lot smaller than him.

“Hey, Oliver.” She waved at him and he loosened the headlock on the other boy. “Easy there, okay?” She softened the scolding with a smile; if she could keep Oliver out of trouble and reassure him at the same time, she'd consider it a job well done. He needed somebody in his life to look out for him. He let the boy go and scuffed his shoes along the ground, and Lucy dared to ruffle his hair for a millisecond before she went in search of Bella.

She found her hunched against the brick wall, her arms wrapped around herself. Lucy had decided on the way there that she'd speak as plainly to Bella as she had to Alex. She knew Bella would see instantly through any kindly meant ploy, and she imagined how scathing the girl's incredulous scorn would be.

No, better to just lay it all out there. Bella already had, whether she'd meant to or not.

“Hi,” she began brightly, and Bella gazed at her with the same narrowed look at which her father was so adept. “Look, Bella, I'm just going to say this,” she said, keeping her voice upbeat with determination. “I think I know why you got suspended—” Bella raised an eyebrow. “I mean I think I know why you skipped PE,” Lucy amended. “Because you didn't want to get changed. Because you're being bullied.”

Lucy saw how still and trapped Bella became, like a beautiful, dark butterfly pinned to a board. She felt a hard tug of sympathy for the girl. “I was bullied when I was your age. It
sucks
, and I told your father so.”