Charlie stared at her in confusion. It was what he’d wanted all those weeks ago, when he had first learned of Della’s death. Now, though, looking at Dora’s distraught face, it felt like a Pyrrhic victory. She looked so small and alone.
‘That’s not going to happen. Archie needs you.’
‘No, he needs his mum.’ Her grey eyes were clouded with pain. ‘But he can’t have her, so he needs the next best thing—and that’s not me. Even Della thought that.’
‘Of course she didn’t. She just didn’t—’
> ‘Didn’t what? Have time to put it in her will?’ She gave a short, brittle laugh. ‘You didn’t know her. She made time for everything. She was waiting to see if I could change, become a better person. But I didn’t—I haven’t. I couldn’t even sing “Happy Birthday”.’
The bruise in her voice made something rip inside him. When she hadn’t started singing he’d thought at first that she was waiting for him to give her a signal. But then he had looked at her face and seen the fear. No shock or confusion, though, and that meant it had happened before.
Brain racing, he thought back to that video of her, the breathtaking luminosity of her talent. How had it happened? The sudden silencing of that voice?
‘Is that why you stopped singing? Did it happen before?’
She nodded. ‘So, you see, I didn’t put Archie first.’ Her eyes met his, daring him to disagree. ‘I’m not noble or selfless. I stopped because I couldn’t sing.’
‘And this happened when?’
He knew he’d sounded harsh, but her confession angered him. Why was she dealing with this alone?
‘I don’t know. Maybe a month after Della died. What does it matter? I wanted to sing for Della. I was going to sing her favourite song, but I couldn’t.’
She was crying again, and he felt a pain he had never experienced before rise in his throat—a pain so bad he thought he might choke. And then he stopped thinking and pulled her into his arms again. Only this time he wasn’t going to let her go.
‘You were still in shock, grieving. Whoever let you on a stage should be shot.’ He felt her hands ball against his chest, heard her sob.
‘I can’t make it make sense...her going like that...’
‘It’s okay. I’ve got you.’
He held her close, letting her cry, stroking her hair and speaking softly until finally he felt the stiffness in her body ease.
‘You have a beautiful voice, Dora,’ he said gently.
‘Not any more.’ She sniffed. ‘And I don’t mind. I deserve it. I made her life so difficult.’
The flatness in her voice made his breathing jam. ‘No...’
‘It’s true. She was so upset when I dropped out of uni. But I dropped out because I’d been offered a recording contract. I wanted to surprise her—only I never got the chance.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ he said quietly.
Tears were streaking her cheeks. ‘They were nice about it, but I couldn’t sing, so...’ She turned away from him. ‘I should have told you this before, then you wouldn’t have asked me to sing, and I wouldn’t have let you down in front of your family.’
‘Shh...nobody noticed, I promise. We were all too busy trying to stay in tune.’ He smoothed his thumbs over her cheeks. ‘And if anyone was let down it was you. By me. I didn’t think about what today would be like for you without Della. I didn’t make you feel you could tell me. But I want that to change. From now on, I want us to be honest.’
She breathed out shakily. ‘You know, you’re much nicer now than when we first met.’
He smiled. ‘I’m keeping better company now.’
Her mouth quivered. ‘I didn’t mean what I said...about Archie.’
‘I know.’ He cupped her face in his hands. ‘I know how much you love him—and he loves you. I’d call that a Royal Flush.’
Her grey eyes lifted to his. ‘No, it’s a straight flush. Having you as a brother and being part of your wonderful family makes it a Royal Flush.’
He nodded, barely missing a beat. Honesty in this instance served no purpose. His sisters’ acceptance meant a lot to Dora, and after everything she had just told him he wasn’t about to take that away from her.