“We didnt expect you,” said my sister and shut the door.
“Mum passed three days ago, and youve only just arrived!” The voice on the other end of the line trembled with barely restrained anger.
Charlotte pressed the phone between her ear and shoulder, struggling to keep hold of her heavy bag while fishing for her car keys. The rain thickened, drumming against the station awning.
“Emily, I explainedI was on assignment in the Highlands, there was no signal. The moment I found out, I caught the first flight.”
“Work was more important than Mum?”
“Dont start. Im coming. Ill be there in an hour.”
Her sister hung up. Charlotte slid into the hired car and sat motionless for a long moment, staring out at the blurred city lights through the rain. Her hometownthe one she had left fifteen years ago. Shed been twenty-five then, determined to make her mark in London. Mum had wept, Dad had stayed silent, and Emilyher younger sisterhad screamed that she was a traitor.
The drive to her parents house took over an hour. The city had changednew estates, shopping centres, roundabouts. But the closer she got to the old centre, the more familiar the streets became. There was the bakery where she and Emily used to buy warm scones. The school, its paint peeling. Their streetquiet, lined with front gardens and benches by the doorsteps.
The family house stood at the end of a cul-de-sac. Two storeys with an attic, once white, now grey with age. Light shone from the windows, shadows moving behind the curtains. Charlotte parked by the gate, grabbed her bag, and took a deep breath.
The side gate was unlocked. Under the shelter in the yard, tables were laid with white cloths. The wake. A handful of people stood smoking by the porch, speaking in hushed voices. They fell silent when they saw her.
“Hello,” she said.
No one answered. Aunt MargaretMums old friendturned away. Uncle Michael, their neighbour, shook his head. Charlotte walked past them, climbed the steps, and pulled at the front door.
Locked.
She rang the bell. Footsteps, the click of the latch. Emily appeared in the doorway, older now, bitterness etched around her mouth, dressed in black.
“We didnt expect you,” her sister said and closed the door.
Charlotte stood there, unable to believe it. Behind her, the smokers whispered. She rang again. Silence. Knocked.
“Emily! Emily, open the door! This is ridiculous!”
The door opened a crack, the chain still on.
“Go away,” Emily said. “You dont belong here.”
“I came to say goodbye to Mum!”
“Youre too late. We buried her yesterday.”
“But you said she died three days ago!”
“And what? Thought youd make it in time? Fifteen years without a visit, and now suddenly youre in a hurry?”
“Emily, let me in. Lets talk properly.”
“Properly? Was it proper when Dad died and you didnt even come?”
“I was in Africa! On an expedition! No signal!”
“Theres always an excuse with you. Africa, Antarctica, work trips. While Mum and I were here. She was ill for three years, Charlotte. Three years! Where were you?”
Charlotte said nothing. Shed known Mum was ill. Had called, sent money for treatment. But coming back There was always something. Work, projects, research.
“I sent money.”
“Money?” Emily laughed bitterly. “She didnt need your cheques. She needed you. Her daughter. But you chose your career.”
“Thats not fair.”
“Whats not fair? That I quit my job to care for her? That my husband left because I spent more time at the hospital than at home? That my son barely knows me because I was always with his grandmother?”
The door slammed. Charlotte stepped down from the porch and sat on the garden bench. The rain had stopped, but drops still fell from the trees. Voices and the clink of dishes drifted from the house.
“Charlotte Anne?” a womans voice called.
She turned. A stranger, about forty, stood nearby.
“Im Rebecca, your neighbour. We moved here five years ago. Your mum talked about you often.”
“Really?”
“She was so proud. Said her daughter was a scientist, travelling the world, writing papers. Shed show us newspaper cuttings.”
Charlottes eyes stung.
“Did she mention that I abandoned her?”
“You didnt abandon anyone. Life takes us different ways. Margaret understood that.”
“Emily doesnt.”
“Emilys hurt. Its been hard for her. But that doesnt make her right.”
Rebecca sat beside her.
“Your mum left you a letter. Gave it to measked me to pass it on if you came.”
“A letter?”
Rebecca pulled an envelope from her pocket. In Mums familiar handwriting, it read: “For my Lottie.”
“Thank you,” Charlotte whispered, taking it with trembling hands.
“If you need anythingIm just next door, the house with the green gate.”
Rebecca left. Charlotte sat holding the letter, afraid to open it. Finally, she stood and walked to her car. An older man stepped outUncle William, Mums brother.
“Lottie? You made it.”
“Uncle Will.” She hugged him. “At least someones glad to see me.”
“Of course I am. Come inside.”
“Emily wont let me in.”
“Nonsense. This is your home too.”
He took her hand and led her back to the porch, unlocking the door with his own key.
“Emily!” he called. “Ive brought Charlotte.”
Her sister appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.
“Uncle Will, I asked”
“You didnt ask anything. Charlotte has every right to be here. This is her parents house.”
“The parents she abandoned!”
“Enough, Emily. Agnes wouldnt have wanted this.”
“How would you know what Mum wanted?”
“Because I sat with her those last days. She talked of nothing but Charlotte. Begged me to forgive her if she didnt make it back.”
Emily leaned against the wall, covering her face.
“Its not fair. I did everything for her, and all she talked about was Charlotte.”
“She loved you too,” Uncle Will said, pulling her into a hug. “Just differently. You were hereCharlotte was far away. We worry more about the ones we cant see.”
In the sitting room, twenty or so people sat around the table. Relatives, neighbours, Mums friends. They fell silent when Charlotte entered.
“Hello,” she said.
Some nodded. Some looked away. Aunt Louise, Dads sister, stood and approached.
“Lottie, Im so sorry. Your mum was a good woman.”
“Thank you, Aunt Lou.”
One by one, others came forward with condolences. Only Emily stayed in the corner, arms crossed.
“Sit, eat,” Aunt Margaret said, setting a plate before Charlotte. “You must be hungry after the journey.”
“Thank you, but Im not”
“You should. Your mum wouldve wanted it.”
Charlotte picked up a spoon and tasted the soup. Mums recipe. A lump rose in her throat.
“Tell us about your work,” Uncle Will said. “Agnes said youre at the institute now?”
“Yes, the Oceanographic Institute. Researching marine ecosystems.”
“Do you travel much?”
“Needs must. Expeditions, conferences.”
“Never married?” Aunt Louise asked.
“No. It never happened.”
“Career woman,” Emily muttered. “Family doesnt matter.”
“Emily, stop,” Uncle Will warned.
“Why? Its true. No husband, no children. Just work.”
Charlotte stood.
“You know what? Yes, I chose my career. And I dont regret it. My work matters. It helps protect the ocean for future generations.”
“But you couldnt protect your own mother,” Emily shot back.
“Cancer doesnt care about research!”
“But being there helps! Holding her hand, making tea, staying awake when the pain came!”
“I couldnt have done it!” Charlotte shouted. “Do you understand? I couldnt have watched her fade! I was a coward, yes! I ran! But that doesnt mean I didnt love her!”
Silence fell. Emily stepped closer.
“Do you know what she said before she died? Wheres my Lottie? Why wont she come? And I lied. Told her youd be here soon. Every day, I lied.”
“Forgive me.”
“For what? For leaving me to carry it all? For letting Mum die with your name on her lips instead of mine?”
“Emily”
“No, listen. You waltz in here thinking you can cry at the wake and then disappear back to your perfect life. But Im the one left behind. With an empty house, medical debts, a son growing up without a father.”
“What debts? I sent money.”
“You did. But treatment costs more. I mortgaged the house.”
“What? Why didnt you tell me?”
“Pride. And what would it have changed? Youd have sent more money? No thanks.”
Charlotte pulled out her phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling the bank. Ill settle the debt.”
“Lottie, you dont”
“I can do this. I have the means.”
As she spoke to the bank, guests began to leave, murmuring quiet goodbyes. Soon, only the sisters and Uncle Will remained.
“Girls,” he said. “No more fighting. Your mum wouldnt have wanted it.”
“Mum didnt want a lot of things,” Emily muttered. “But here we are.”
“Read it,” Uncle Will nodded to the letter in Charlottes hand. “Might help.”
He left. The sisters sat alone. Charlotte opened the envelope and unfolded the page.
“My dearest Lottie, I know you blame yourself. Dont. Im not angry. Youre living your life as you must. Im proud of you. Proud my daughters a scientist, doing important work. Emilys angry, but shell come round. Shes a good girl, just tired. Help each other. Youre sisterssame blood. Your dad wouldve hated this quarrel. Take care, my love. Know Ive always loved you. Mum.”
Charlotte passed the letter to Emily. She read it, sank into a chair, and wept.
“She was always like this. Making excuses for everyone.”
“She was kind.”
“Too kind. Im the angry one. At you, at myself, at the world.”
Charlotte sat beside her, wrapped an arm around her sister.
“Youve every right. I was selfish.”
“But Mum forgave you.”
“Will you?”
Emily wiped her eyes.
“I dont know. Maybe one day. Not yet.”
“I understand.”
They sat together in the quiet room. Outside, dusk fell. The house smelled of funeral flowers and food.
“Tell me about Mum,” Charlotte said. “The last years.”
“Whats to tell? She was ill, she fought, she hoped. Read a lot. Knew your papers by heart. Bragged to the neighbours.”
“How was she at the end?”
“Went quietly. In her sleep. I brought tea in the morning, and she was gone. Looked peacefulalmost smiling.”
“Good. No pain.”
“There was pain. She just hid it. Said there was no point upsetting us.”
“Usmeaning you and me?”
“And James. My boy. He adored her more than me.”
“Where is he now?”
“At a friends. Didnt want him at the wake. Hes only ten.”
“Can I meet him?”
“Tomorrow. If youre staying.”
“Ill stay. Weve the house to sort, paperwork.”
“And then? Youll leave again?”
Charlotte hesitated.
“I dont know. Work”
“Of course, work. Always first.”
“Emily, I cant abandon my research. Its important.”
“More than family?”
“That is family too. My team. People who rely on me.”
“And I dont?”
“How?”
“Im tired, Lottie. Ten years alone with a child. Three with a dying mother. Sometimes I just want someone to take care of me.”
“Move to London.”
“What?”
“Come live with me. Ive a three-bed flatplenty of space. James can go to a good school. Youll find work.”
“You mean it?”
“Completely. Well sell the house, clear the debts. Start fresh.”
Emily shook her head.
“I cant. This is my home. Our home.”
“Home isnt walls. Its people. And people can live anywhere.”
“Easy for you to say. Youre used to moving.”
“Just think about it. Dont decide now.”
The next morning, Charlotte woke in her old room. Nothing had changedsame floral wallpaper, same desk, same books. As if time had stood still.
Downstairs, Emily was making breakfast. A boy sat at the tableEmilys mirror image, same brown eyes, same stubborn chin.
“James, this is Aunt Charlotte. My sister.”
“Hello,” he said, offering his hand.
“Hi, James. Your mums told me about you.”
“Gran talked about you too. Said you study whales.”
“Not just whales. The whole ocean.”
“Brilliant. Can I come on an expedition?”
“James,” Emily chided.
“Sure,” Charlotte smiled. “When youre older.”
“How longs that?”
“Eight years or so.”
“A lifetime!”
Over breakfast, James proved bright and curious, full of questions about the sea. Charlotte told him of her travels, her work.
“Mum, can we visit Aunt Charlotte in London?” he burst out.
“James”
“Theyve got an aquarium! And museums! And”
“Well see,” Emily said.
After breakfast, the sisters went to the cemetery. Fresh earth, a temporary marker, wreaths. Charlotte laid white rosesMums favourite.
“Forgive me, Mum,” she whispered.
Emily took her hand.
“She already did. You read the letter.”
“Still hurts.”
“Itll pass. Not quickly, but it will.”
They stood in silence, hand in hand. Two sisters, so different, so alike.
“You know,” Emily said. “Ill think about London.”
“Really?”
“James deserves a good education. Theres not much here.”
“Ill help. With the flat, work, school.”
“I know. You always did help. In your way.”
On the walk back, Emily stopped suddenly.
“Remember when we were little, how we dreamed of living together when we grew up?”
Charlotte nodded. “You wanted a big house with a garden.”
“And you wanted a flat overlooking the sea.”
“Well, no sea in Londonbut theres the Thames.”
“Itll do,” Emily smiled. “For now, itll do.”
That evening, as Charlotte packed to leave, Emily came to see her off.
“Sorry about yesterday. The anger got the better of me.”
“I understand. Id have done the same.”
“No, you wouldnt. You dont hold grudges. Thats me.”
“But youre honest. That matters more.”
They huggedtight, real. Like when they were children, before the resentments.
“Come back in a month,” Emily said. “Help us move.”
“I will.”
“And dont vanish for fifteen years this time.”
“I wont. Promise.”
Charlotte got into the car, waved. Emily and James stood by the gate, waving back. The house behind them no longer looked so lonely.
Driving to the airport, Charlotte thought of how right Mum had been. Family wasnt a placeit was people. And those people needed to be together, to help, to forgive.
She took out her phone and texted Emily: “Thank you for opening the door. The second time.”
The reply came fast: “It was always open. I was just in the way. Not anymore.”
Charlotte smiled. It would be alright. Mum wouldve been glad.
