Read Online Coming Home by Rosamunde Pilcher - Free Book Online

selfish. You're just like Mother…hating people to enjoy themselves.’
    ‘That's not true.’
    ‘Let's just forget it.’ And with this, Biddy, exasperated, reached for
The Times,
snapped its pages open, and retreated behind it.
    Silence. Molly, quite shattered by the awfulness of everything, the possibility of another war, the confusions of her imminent future, and the fact that Biddy was now furious with her, sat in a state of trembling agitation. It wasn't fair. She was doing her best. It wasn't her fault. The loaded silence lengthened, and she discovered that she could not stand it for another second. She pushed back the cuff of her cardigan and looked at her watch.
    ‘Where is
Judith?
’ A relief to have thought of something, someone, on whom to unleash her misery. She stood abruptly, pushing back her chair, and went to the door to fling it open and call for her tardy daughter. But there was no need to call, for Judith was already there, just across the hall, sitting at the foot of the staircase.
    ‘What
are
you doing?’
    ‘Tying my shoelace.’
    She did not meet her mother's eyes, and Molly felt a coldness and, not always the most perceptive of women, realised that her daughter had been there for some time, halted by the raised voices from behind the closed dining-room door, and had heard every word of the acrimonious and regrettable exchange.
    It was Jess who came to her rescue.
    ‘Mummy.’
    She looked up and saw her younger child peering at her through the banister rail. Jess, awake at last, but still in her long cream night-dress and with her curls awry.
    ‘Mummy!’
    ‘I'm coming, darling.’
    ‘I want to get my close on.’
    ‘I'm coming.’ She crossed the hall, paused for an instant. ‘You'd better go and have breakfast,’ she told Judith. She went upstairs.
    Judith waited until she was gone, then pulled herself to her feet and went into the dining-room. Aunt Biddy was sitting there, in her usual place, and, down the length of the room they looked, bleakly, at each other.
    Aunt Biddy said, ‘Oh, dear.’ She had been reading the newspaper. She folded it and dropped it on the floor. She said, ‘Sorry about that.’
    Judith was not used to having grown-ups apologise to her. ‘It's all right.’
    ‘Get yourself a sausage. I should think you need it.’
    Judith did as she was told, but hot sizzling sausages weren't much of a comfort. She carried her plate back to the table and sat down in her customary place, with her back to the window. She looked at the food, but didn't think that, just yet, she could eat it.
    After a bit, ‘Did you hear it all?’ Aunt Biddy asked.
    ‘Most of it.’
    ‘It was my fault. My timing was rotten. I chose the wrong moment. Your mother's in no state to make any sort of a plan at the moment. I should have realised that.’
    ‘I shall be all right with Aunt Louise, you know.’
    ‘I know that. It isn't that I'm worried about your well-being, just the fact that, quite possibly, it won't be much fun.’
    Judith said, ‘I've never had proper grown-up fun before. Not before this Christmas.’
    ‘What you're trying to say is what you don't have, you don't miss.’
    ‘Yes, I suppose that's it. But I would love to come back.’
    ‘I'll try again. A little later.’
    Judith picked up her knife and fork and cut a sausage in two. She said, ‘Is there really going to be another war?’
    ‘Oh, my dear, I don't expect so. You're far too young to be worrying about that.’
    ‘But Uncle Bob's worried?’
    ‘Not so much worried, I think, as frustrated. Grinding his teeth at the very thought of the might of the British Empire being challenged. Roused, he can become a real old bulldog.’
    ‘If I came to stay, would I come here?’
    ‘I don't know. Keyham's a two-year appointment, and we're due to move at the end of the summer.’
    ‘Where will you go?’
    ‘No idea. Bob wants to go back to sea. If he does, I think I shall try to buy a little house of our own. We've never