Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Emma

Cowslips The Nurse's family originally came from Ireland. There are no Irish people in her family, as far as she knows. Her father's parents were from Seville, and her mother's family? She recalls they came from Kent and going further back, France. The Nurse certainly doesn't look like her. Trim and petite, with dark eyes. But then Emma doesn't look much like her parents, or grandparents, come to that.

She looks up to ask Will what she should do next– but he is gone. She stares at the empty chair until her head aches and it feels like the band tightening around her brow will crush her.

She stands and goes to sit in his place. She rubs the arms of the chair, slowly and repeatedly.

‘What should I do, Will?'

‘I don't know, Ems.'

Will is not back, but she knows he is there within her, a part of her. So much time– so much love. How could it be otherwise.

‘I am sorry, you know,' he says.

‘I know,' she whispers, but inside her, something twists out of shape and she recognises this wringing, contorted thing as anger.

Emma stands up quickly and paces around the table. She goes round and round in circles, and it takes four laps of the kitchen for the cramp-like thing inside her to ease.

She stops on her fifth lap by the back door and opens it. She looks out into the dark tangle of garden, breathing in the scent of old roses and Doris pinks.

It is 3.56 a.m. on a late July morning, the birds are starting to stir, and Emma thinks she may finally be going mad.