Spending time with this Flora who wasn't hers quelled Eleanor's immediate anger, but deepened her pain. She'd cared for her daughter, her Flora, right off. She'd grown to love her, in time. And with more time began not to just think of her as her daughter, but to know and love her as her daughter with a ferocity that matched June and Lily.
Today Caroline had made her ashamed of the depth of feeling she had for Flora. Love could be an embarrassing thing, if you made yourself vulnerable and gave in to it and were for some reason then found lacking - or put in your place. Emma had taught her that well enough. She had been judged by Caroline and found lacking, when it came to Flora. Eleanor was angry, she knew, only because she was also deeply ashamed.
Flora let her have her silence. She'd looked contemplative while Eleanor pulled herself together. Her gaze had traveled to the window adorned in green tinsel garland. Her eye seemed to catch every bright shopping bag that streamed by on arms and coats and in strollers, but what she thought of them didn't seem to be favor for the material trappings of the season.
"What Caroline said was wrong," she offered. "Terrible and wrong. But I hope not unforgivable, for Flora's sake. She's your little girl. She needs you, Eleanor. And that's more important than your wife making a careless ass of herself, isn't it?"
Looking at grown-up Flora immediately across from her now, when Eleanor imagined missing even one more single second of her daughter's life, she knew she simply couldn't. Nothing that Caroline might do or say, in the paper-cut way she had of moving through the world, would be worth a second away from Flora.
"You're a very wise young lady."
"I'm more mature than I look."
"I hope you didn't come by that the hard way." Eleanor found herself inexplicably alarmed.
"No. Not at all. Not that we don't learn the best lessons the hard way – but I suppose I maybe had a better perspective on it all? That's down to my mums, no doubt about that."
"Good. I owe them a thank-you. So what could have they have done to have driven you traveling at the one time of year we're most supposed to be at home?"
Flora's long lashes wet, and for the first time Eleanor felt the adult in the room.
"Now that is a very long story. The shortest version is that I'm not interested in the family business, and the family business goes back for quite a few generations. It's all we've ever done, really."
"Mmmm. Breaking tradition I understand. It doesn't mean you owe them anything, but it can be devastating for parents to feel they've let down everyone who came before them – that everyone else succeeded, and they're the ones who've failed at their most important job. Perhaps their only job." Poor Margaret lost a half-kilo and an hour off her life anytime anyone brought up the inevitable sale of Strathclyde manor. All three grandchildren had sworn to divest, and none seemed remotely keen on changing her mind.
"That's sort of the argument my other mum likes to make." Flora reached for a napkin and dabbed her eyes. "Minus the owing thing. She's set that I owe Mum – and others – to at least give it a go at taking the reins."
"Are you sure you're not just scared?"
"Very good question. My brother accuses me of that non-stop. I think I'm not scared of the responsibility – maybe more that I'm scared of who I might become, if I do what my mum wants?"
"Well who do you want to become," Eleanor asked, genuinely interested in the answer.
"This. I want to do this. I want to travel and meet you. Or - I mean, people like you. People. I want to know the world. It's not terribly practical. But it's all I want. Would you want it as well, if you could just travel anywhen - I mean, anywhere, you could?"
"Perhaps when I was younger. Now I wouldn't dream of leaving. In fact, I can't seem to find a way to spend enough time at home." Eleanor finished her tea. She wanted to order more because she wanted to stay with Flora. But she was also worried that if she got up from the table, it would prompt some sort of convenient parting. "Is there no one else who could take over? Your brother you mentioned? Step in and preserve the legacy. Assuming it's a legacy worth preserving."
Flora shifted in her wooden chair. She was silent, and Eleanor was too, and it wasn't uncomfortable. The shop thrummed with the merry anxiety of Christmas until Flora spoke again. "It's down to me, I'm afraid. If I can't take it on, we'll have to transfer ownership, I suppose is the best way to put it."
"Well that doesn't seem the most dire outcome."
"I don't know. I gather it's rather complicated. Mum's always been vague about it. Probably didn't want to give me any easy out." Flora pressed the tea bag inside her empty mug. Rivulets of weak brown water ran down the side.
"After spending an entire half-hour with you, I wouldn't guess your parents were the type to obscure facts to manipulate you. But we all muddle the lines sometimes, when it comes to protecting our children."
"I don't know what they could be protecting me from. It's not bad, what we do. It really isn't. I know I've been vague, and maybe you think it's because it's illicit in some way. It's just sort of – complex. And I'd rather you drop a little more wisdom on me than spend time explaining it."
Eleanor laughed out loud. "I can't help but feel, Flora, that you've been much more helpful to me than I've been to you."
"But we're not done yet, are we? I need another cup, and this time I won't let the cashier wheedle me off my first choice."
It was near dark by the time they'd finished their third cup. While Eleanor had made up her mind earlier in the conversation about what to do with Caroline, her feeling had had time to set with the sun and during the long afternoon. And for some reason, Flora made her miss Caroline, which she quickly accounted for as just not wanting to be lonely at the end of this lovely chat.
"Where are you traveling next? Home?" Eleanor was collecting her bag and bundling for the cold and generally stalling.
"Nah. I think I might enjoy the warm weather down here a little longer. Though – you've made me miss my mums terribly. And I wouldn't have said that were possible."
"It's so persistent, this loving people thing. I hope you settle with your family. There's no getting time back, once it's gone."
"No. You're very right about that," Flora said softly.
"May I hug you," Eleanor asked.
"Please. An extra good one. We both need it." Flora opened her arms wide.
It was the most amazing hug Eleanor might have ever had. "That did help. Thank you. I'm very, very glad to have met you, Flora – "
"Just Flora is fine. And I feel like I've known you my whole life. So let's just say I'm glad to see you."
"Yes." Eleanor hunted around the table and chairs. "Have you misplaced your coat?"
"No. Just got the base layer for the trip. Should do me fine."
"Alright. Well – " Eleanor hunted through her bag and drew out her card holder. She handed one to Flora. "In case you need anything – at all – while you're 'down here.'"
Flora darted in and kissed Eleanor on the cheek. "You know, you're magnificent, Eleanor Strathclyde. And your Caroline and Flora are very lucky." She tapped the card against her palm. "Perhaps I will drop in. I'd like to meet them." She squeezed Eleanor's elbow once more and went quickly through the door.
Eleanor crossed her arms and scowled after her, then smiled. Had she told Flora her last name? She must've at some point.
She went over to the tip jar and made a nice contribution for rental of the table all afternoon. She smiled all the way to the Rover, though her troubles at home were black, bold typeset in her mind. Again, the pain lingered. But Flora seemed to have absolved her of her shame. She got in the car, fired it up and turned up the heat and the seat.
Eleanor fished her mobile out of her bag. She had two missed calls from Caroline but no messages. She clicked the overhead light, put on her readers, and began typing.
"I haven't forgiven you for what you've done. I will, and it will be fine. But I'd like it if you weren't home when I got there, please, if Celia or Alan or Greg or Jane could be there. I'd like Flora to myself tonight. Perhaps you could sleep in the guest room. I'll change the sheets and leave pajamas out for you, and I'll text when I've gone to bed."
She put the mobile back in her bag. There was only one response that was acceptable, and Caroline Dawson knew what it was. She also knew she could change her own damn sheets and get her own pajamas. If she didn't, she'd be down one wife and sharing custody of Flora by the New Year.
It was dark, but still early and Caroline needed time to clear out of the house. Eleanor put the car in gear and sighed mightily as she pulled onto the road with a very specific errand in mind. There was only one way she was going to get around to forgiveness tonight, and that was by doing something generous for someone else. In this case, her faithless wife.
