Diverted, she regarded him with interest. ‘She’s your sister? She seemed nice.’
‘As sisters go.’ But he smiled as he finished making the coffee and carried the mugs to the table. Lily took hers with thanks. He’d given her the Dalmatian mug.
A ting! hit the air and Isaac pulled out his phone. He hesitated and frowned at the screen.
‘Do you need to answer?’ Lily asked politely. ‘Or I can leave if you need to make a call.’
‘It’s voicemail.’ He tapped a couple of times, listened, then slid the handset onto the table. ‘The call came in when I was in a no-signal area hiking around the fens. My accountant. It’s after office hours now so no point calling till tomorrow.’ He rubbed his temples as if the mere idea of it made his head ache. ‘Giving up the lease at Juno Lounge and winding up the business produced a lot of paperwork and process.’
‘Oh.’ She added milk to her coffee. ‘I hadn’t realised you were a leaseholder. I’d assumed you were just the manager.’
His jaw tightened. ‘It was my business so it affected me pretty badly when it went belly-up. It was nothing I did wrong but it hurts.’
‘I’m sure.’ She wrinkled her forehead, trying to bring to mind what had happened to Juno Lounge, the kind of place that once had been very much part of the scenery. ‘I suppose it was affected by the closure to the parkway, was it?’
He nodded. ‘A bridge was suddenly found to be failing dangerously and that was it. Road closed. It cut the lifeblood to the Juno. There was a back lane access but it was small and out of the way. With the parkway closed large, jolly “Open as usual!” signs had no effect. People found other places to go and in no time I was in the crap.’ He paused to sip his coffee.
‘Can’t you insure against interruption to business?’ she asked sympathetically. No wonder he always had shadows in his eyes.
‘You can.’ He nodded. ‘But it only applies to specific circumstances and a bridge that had gradually deteriorated wasn’t an “insured peril”. Two bridges further up were found to need work too, which proved the death blow. The brewery bought me out of the lease, in the circumstances, but it wasn’t a generous offer. They’re more able to afford to sit out the months while the bridges are repaired than I am but they must still be losing money, as I closed up in July. They expect to reopen in March but by then I’ll be on my way. I’m sick of the hospitality business.’
She gave a quiet snort of laughter. ‘I keep saying the same. Then I end up working in a bar.’
‘Well, I won’t,’ he said positively, dark eyes flashing. ‘I’m working here because I need to do something while I tie up the loose ends.’ Then he became more cheerful as he told her about the outdoorsy instructor courses he was to take, calling up a website on his phone to show her pictures of people in backpacks and helmets. While he waxed enthusiastic, Lily found herself relaxing, listening to him talk about hill walking and kayaking rather than what he might have overheard.
Until he moved the conversation on. ‘So you have a brother as well as a sister? Does he live locally?’
Lily half-dropped her mug, splashing the dregs of her coffee down her jeans. ‘Sorry!’ she gasped. She used her sleeve to mop the splashes from the table. Doggo trotted over and licked up the splashes on the floor. ‘What do you mean?’
He was staring at her warily. ‘Um … I thought I heard your sister mention a brother. Sorry if I got it wrong.’
She polished at the table some more with her now damp sleeve. She’d almost prefer he’d heard the bit about asking out the hot boss rather than this. ‘You didn’t get it wrong,’ she admitted reluctantly. ‘I have two half-brothers. Do you—’ She regarded him anxiously. ‘Do you mind not mentioning them in the village though?’ Her tummy turned over at the thought.
‘If that’s what you want,’ he replied uncertainly. Rain or hail flung itself at the window anew, making Doggo growl. Now still didn’t seem like a good time for Lily to leave but she began to wish she hadn’t allowed herself to be ushered up here for coffee. She should have run into the pub and sheltered for a bit … though she wouldn’t have wanted Zinnia to follow her in there and run her mouth off.
A sigh rasped through her like physical pain. Now she’d made such a dramatic appeal, she’d have to explain it so that he understood how vitally important silence was. ‘Thanks,’ she said quietly. ‘As the relief manager, I think it’s probably best if you have some insight into the story. Zinnia’s getting agitated and uncontrolled. She’s badgering me here at work, as you’ve seen. My family’s non-conventional, as I told you.’
‘Because you have two mums.’ He nodded.
‘Exactly.’ She paused to gather her thoughts, gazing at the table top. This wasn’t a subject she discussed much outside of her family. ‘The trouble is that Zin was conceived by artificial insemination and the anonymous donor gave—’ her cheeks burned ‘—what he gave knowing what he was doing. But my mum, she had an affair and I was conceived. It was only when she ended the relationship that she understood how badly she’d used him. He’d fallen in love with her – he was older and maybe she’d thought he was past all that – and he was gutted. She never told him about me because she saw how unforgivably she’d messed with his life. He had a wife and two sons who were sixteen and twenty-one at the time.’
Isaac was silent, his gaze sympathetic.
She tried to laugh but it emerged brittle and hard. ‘Zin and I are only three months apart. It caused remarks all through school. Though we consider ourselves sisters others considered us stepsisters as we have no blood tie and different surnames. Thing is, there’s no manual on how to be a child from a same-sex relationship. I feel I’ve missed out on half of my family but Zinnia’s the opposite and says she’s got two amazing women as parents and has no need to know her sperm donor.’
For several moments she fell silent. The rain continued to pound and Doggo yawned and stretched out against the radiator. ‘Mum let me think my father was a one-night stand,’ she continued eventually. ‘Then I caught her crying over his obituary and in the emotion of the moment, she told me.’ She shook her head. ‘I felt gutted, cheated, and the only way I could think of making it up to myself was to try and find my half-brothers. It was a compulsion.’
Her eyes prickled and she realised it was a relief to be able to talk about it with someone other than her family. ‘I found my eldest brother straight away via the internet. I know where the other one is but I haven’t met him, his wife or two kids.’
Isaac had apparently become too invested in the story to listen in silence any longer. ‘What did the one you’ve met say to finding out he had a half-sister?’
‘Nothing,’ she admitted frankly, feeling the familiar snake of worry. She had to pause to swallow. ‘Because of something very specific I heard him say I know that if I tell him he could refuse to have anything to do with me. So I’m not brave enough to try.’
She propped her head on her palm. ‘It’s a mess. My parents are worried. Zinnia’s got all pugnacious, scared of having to share me. She can’t stand not knowing. She wants me to choose her, I suppose, as if it were a competition. It’s like a new, prickly Zin has turned up in my life and I’m feeling pressure to leave the village but not until—’ she hesitated ‘—until I’ve met the other brother. I’m resentful that Zin’s being difficult but also feeling guilty because I’m scaring her. And my mums too,’ she added fairly.
‘Wow,’ he said.
She glanced at him. ‘So I hope you see why it’s important that you don’t mention my brothers to anyone. I think whether they ever learn who I am is up to me.’
To her relief, Isaac nodded understandingly. ‘Of course.’