Emily Windsnap and the Siren's Secret - Liz Kessler [17]
“Me?” Mr. Beeston blustered, almost spilling his tea in his lap. “What can I tell you? I don’t know anything!” His face had practically turned purple, and he looked even more uncomfortable than people generally look on that sofa. What was his problem?
Mom shrugged off his reply and turned to me. “You remember what I told you, don’t you? Why they moved away?”
“They thought you were going crazy because you told them you were in love with a merman.”
Mom nodded. “That’s right. They thought I was delusional or that I was making it all up because I didn’t want to tell them who was the real father of my baby.”
“Didn’t they try to get you to leave Brightport and go and live with them somewhere else?” I asked.
Mom nodded. “But I wouldn’t. I didn’t even know why — I just knew I couldn’t leave. There are all sorts of things about it all that I’ve never understood.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Well, for one thing, like why Granddad left me the boat when they went off without me.”
“Why don’t you understand that?” I asked.
Mom shook her head. “There was just something about it that didn’t fit. I used to tell myself it meant that a small part of him forgave me, or even believed me. That maybe when things had calmed down a bit, they’d get back in touch.”
“But they didn’t?” I prompted.
“No. Not once. Nothing. Apart from the cards they sent for birthdays and Christmas. That was it. They never even wrote more than their names. Not even Love. Just Mom and Dad, or Nan and Granddad on yours.” She smiled sadly at me. “It was so strange, so unlike them. They were always so warm and friendly. Everyone knew that about them. But what could I do? They just didn’t want to know me.”
Mom fell silent. There wasn’t much any of us could say. Dad held tightly on to her hand. Mr. Beeston was still fidgeting and twitching. All the time Mom was talking, he’d been sitting there looking around the room, pulling at a loose thread on his jacket, tapping his foot nervously. It was as though he were trying not to listen.
Oh, I’m sorry, I felt like saying. Are we boring you? His life was obviously much more important than anyone else’s.
The second Mom stopped talking, he slurped his tea down in one final glug and jumped up from the sofa. Pulling up his sleeve, he looked at his watch. “Gosh, is that the time?” he said in his I’ve-got-much-more-important-things-to-do-than-waste-my-time-with-you-people tone of voice. “I’d better get going.”
And before we could say “Oh, really, do you have to? Won’t you stay for another cup of tea?”— as if!— he’d shuffled over to the door, nodded quickly at the three of us, and made his exit.
“Whoops, sorry, didn’t see you there!” we heard him exclaim. “Good grief, what the blazes are you doing here? Anyway, can’t stop — things to do and all that. Catch you later.”
Who was he talking to? I jumped up and ran to the door. I don’t know who I was expecting, but when I saw who it was, it was the most welcome surprise I’d had since we’d gotten here.
I threw myself into the arms that were waiting wide open for me.
“Millie!” I hugged her tightly as she laughed and squeezed me back.
Then she let go and clambered through the door. “Looks like I got here just in time,” she said, looking around and tutting loudly. “Can’t you folks go five minutes without getting yourselves mixed up in some sort of trouble?”
Mom leaped to her feet. “Millie! What on earth are you doing here?”
Millie threw her arms around Mom. “Couldn’t stand it without you,” she said. “Archie said I was the biggest misery fins he’d ever seen. There was another team heading out this way for a couple of weeks, so he arranged for me to hitch a ride.”
“I thought you couldn’t bear to be parted from him,” Dad said with a mischievous grin.
“Yes. Well, turns out I can’t bear to be parted from you all even more.” She pursed her lips. “And from the sound of things, it seems like you’re not much good without me, either.”
“From the sound of things? You mean you’ve been listening outside the door?” I said.
Millie flushed