Page 182 of Pull Me Under

‘Cool.’ Maisie nods decisively. ‘I’ve never had an aunt before. Do you like dinosaurs?’

Lily’s face cracks into a real smile. ‘Dinosaurs are okay. I prefer sharks.’

‘Sharks are good too. Uncle Jude knows loads about sharks. He was going to be a marine biologist but then he didn’t.’

‘Maisie—’ Jude starts.

‘It’s fine.’ Lily’s looking at Jude now. Really looking. ‘Marine biology, huh?’

‘It was a long time ago.’

‘Doesn’t mean it has to stay in the past.’

Something flickers across Jude’s face. I can’t tell if it’s hope or pain or both.

Kit clears his throat. ‘Maybe we should go inside? This feels like the kind of conversation that needs tea.’

‘And biscuits,’ Maisie adds. ‘Do you have biscuits? Nana—’ She stops. Looks at Helen. ‘Can I call you Nana?’

Helen’s eyes fill with fresh tears. ‘You can call me whatever you like, sweetheart.’

‘Nana it is.’ Maisie grabs Helen’s hand and starts pulling her towards the house. ‘Come on, Nana. Show me where the biscuits are.’

Helen laughs – a wet, surprised sound – and lets herself be dragged inside.

Kit follows, one hand on Lily’s shoulder. I hear him say something low to her, see her nod, and then they’re gone too.

Which leaves me and Jude.

Standing in the garden.

The daffodils nodding between us.

‘You found her,’ Jude says.

‘I found her.’

‘And Lily. You found Lily.’

‘Yeah.’ I shake my head, still not quite believing it myself. ‘I have a sister.’

Jude nods. Doesn’t move.

The silence stretches. It’s not comfortable, but it’s not hostile either. It’s the silence of two people who have too much to say and no idea where to start.

‘I read the letters,’ he says finally. ‘Last night. Kit and I – we went to your cottage. The key was still under the boot.’

I purse my lips and notice his gaze drift down to them. And I want him to kiss them. Want him to dare to kiss them. I want him to be the man who is brave enough to do that. To do everything. ‘Damn I forget about that key,’ I finally say, after he’s studied my mouth for what feels like a decade and a split second all at once and my heart is trying to escape my ribcage.

‘I know.’ He almost smiles. Almost. ‘We found the box. Read what our mother wrote to your father. What he wrote to her.’

‘Jude—’

‘You were going to tell me.’ It’s not a question. ‘That night. Before Dad collapsed. You were trying to figure out how.’

‘I only found out properly the morning of your dad’s collapse. I’d had one night with it – one night of staring at those letters trying to work out how to tell you without detonating your entire life. I didn’t keep it from you because I was being malicious. I kept it because I was terrified of exactly what happened.’

He looks at the ground. At the daffodils. At anything but me.