She reached out and grabbed the note.
Drink the water, take the painkillers and come down to the café for breakfast. The perfect cure for a hangover is a Scottish breakfast.
The thought of anything fried made her stomach turn, but she swallowed the painkillers and sat up.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d woken naturally, without the assistance of a child.
Mommy, will you play with me?
Mommy, Melly is being mean.
Mommy, Ruby has broken my favorite doll.
I’m hungry.
/>
Thirsty.
Need the bathroom...
The house was quiet. There was no clattering in the kitchen. No thundering of footsteps on the stairs. Fingers of sunlight poked through the slim gap in the curtains.
She glanced around her bedroom. The walls, once plastered with pictures of fashion models, were now painted over in neutral tones. Other than that, the room looked much the way it had when she was growing up. Her favorite books nestled in the bookshelf together with Betsy, the doll she’d refused to be parted from when she was young. It didn’t matter that Betsy had lost one eye and half her hair, that doll had got her through the most difficult time of her life. Presumably Suzanne knew that, which was why Betsy hadn’t been consigned to the attic with the other remnants of Beth’s childhood.
Melly adored Betsy and the first thing she did when they arrived in Scotland was to adopt the doll.
If the children were here, they’d be in bed with her now, wrapped around her in a tangle of warmth, smiles and squabbles.
Their absence somehow made the silence louder. It should have felt blissful, but instead it felt hollow and empty, as if something was missing.
Had Jason called while she’d been asleep?
She reached for her phone and checked her messages, but there was nothing.
What did that mean?
There was a tap on the door and her mother appeared with a mug of tea.
“You slept late. You must have been exhausted.”
Beth had seen her mother briefly the night before, but she’d been too tired to exchange more than a quick hug.
She stuffed the note from her sister under the pillow. “Thanks, Mom. I thought everyone was out.” She noticed a stack of neatly folded clothes on the chair and silently blessed her sister.
“Your dad was hoping to see you, but he had to leave early and he didn’t want to wake you. I’m leaving soon.” Suzanne handed her the mug and walked to the window to draw the curtains. “It’s been snowing again.”
Beth curled her hands round the mug and tried to ignore her throbbing headache. All that free champagne didn’t feel like so much fun this morning. “It looks pretty, but I guess it makes a lot more work around the place for you and Posy.” Why hadn’t Jason left her a message?
“Beth?”
“Sorry. You were saying?”
“I was surprised to see you home early, and without the girls. Is everything all right?”
“Everything is fine.” She wondered when her mother was going to comment on the fact that she was wearing a pair of Posy’s pyjamas.
“It’s a beautiful day out there. Cold, though. What would you like to do today?”