Page 44 of Take Me Away

‘Do you think she’s still sad? About her foot, I mean.’

‘I’m sure she’s fine.’ I keep my eyes on the pot.

‘But she’s all alone in that cottage. And she can’t walk good.’ Maisie’s concern seems genuine. ‘What if she can’t make dinner?’

‘I’m sure she can manage.’

‘But what if she can’t reach things? What if she falls again trying to get stuff from high shelves?’

‘Maisie,’ I warn.

‘I’m just saying, maybe we should check on her after dinner.’

‘She has a phone. If she needs help, she can call someone.’

‘Like who? She doesn’t know anyone here anymore.’

I wince at the unintentional accusation in that. ‘She knows Nina. And Tom. And apparently half the village now.’

Maisie is quiet for a moment, helping me carry plates to the table. As we sit down to eat, I think I’ve successfully navigated away from the topic. I’m wrong.

‘Is her foot super purple? Nina said it would probably turn all purple and blue and green.’

‘I don’t know. Probably.’

‘Does she have ice? For the swelling? You said she needs to put ice on it.’

I serve her curry, trying not to sigh. ‘I’m sure she figured that out.’

‘But what if⁠—’

‘Maisie.’ My tone is sharper than intended. ‘Enough about Isla, please.’

She pokes at her curry, subdued. ‘I’m just worried about her.’

Guilt twists in my chest. I try a gentler approach. ‘I know you are. But I’m sure she’s fine.’

We eat in silence for a few minutes. Until Maisie looks up, her expression so much like her mother’s when she’d made up her mind about something.

‘We should invite her over.’

I nearly choke on my water. ‘What?’

‘She’s hurt, and she’s all alone, and you said we should always be kind to people, ’specially when they’re having a hard time.’

Using my own lessons against me. Clever girl.

‘We’ll see,’ I say finally, the parent’s universal non-answer.

‘That means no,’ she mutters.

‘It means we’ll see.’

‘It’s raining really hard.’

‘It is.’

‘How do we know Isla’s cottage is even safe. It’s been ages since that old lady lived there.’