Chapter 16 - THE WHISPER OF THE VILLAGE
By Boxing Day, the news of the standoff at Mill Lane had swept through the village of Oakhaven like wildfire.
In a small country town where the biggest scandal of the year was usually a dispute over overgrown hedges, the arrest of a multi-millionaire property tycoon in Clare Bennett’s kitchen was nothing short of legendary.
At ten in the morning, a knock came at the door.
Clare opened it to find her sister Helen standing on the porch, wrapped in a fur-trimmed coat, holding an enormous tin of homemade mince pies. Behind her, Michael stood shifting his weight awkwardly from foot to foot, looking thoroughly chastened.
"Clare!" Helen cried, throwing her arms around her sister with an intensity she hadn't displayed in twenty years. "We heard! The butcher told Mrs. Higgins, and Mrs. Higgins called me at seven! My God, are you alright? Were you shot at? Where are the police?"
"Come inside, Helen," Clare said, stepping aside with an amused smile. "No one was shot at. And keep your voice down, Maya is reading in the study."
Helen bustled into the kitchen, her eyes widening as she saw Anna chopping vegetables at the center island, wearing one of Clare's aprons, while Sophie sat at the table reviewing medical charts on her laptop.
"Helen, Michael, this is Anna," Clare said smoothly. "She is staying with us for the foreseeable future."
Helen blinked, looking at the young woman with the fading bruise, then at the comfortable, warm domesticity of the room. "Oh. Clare... I... about Christmas Eve. Michael’s headache wasn't that bad. We just... the roads looked treacherous, and we were so tired, and—"
"Helen," Clare interrupted gently, taking the tin of mince pies from her hands. "It doesn't matter. The dinner was eaten. Every single bite of it."
Michael cleared his throat, his face crimson. "Clare, I brought my snowplow attachment on the tractor. Cleared your entire lane and the turning circle down to the road. Thought it was the least I could do."
"Thank you, Michael," Clare said, offering him a warm, forgiving smile. "That was very kind."
Helen stood in the center of the kitchen, suddenly looking like an outsider in the room she had visited hundreds of times. She saw the genuine warmth between Sophie, Daniel, and the two strangers—a warmth born of shared trial and sudden protection.
"Clare," Helen whispered, pulling her sister into the scullery out of earshot. "Who is she? People are saying Julian Vance is going to hire the best barristers in London. They're saying he’ll drag this family through the mud."
"Let him try," Clare said, her voice dropping into that new, unbreakable timbre. "Peter’s files are already with the Crown Prosecution Service. And as for Anna... she isn't just an acquaintance anymore. She is under my roof. In this family, Helen, we don't abandon people when the storm hits."
Helen looked down at her hands, the sting of the rebuke hitting home, but she nodded slowly. "Can I... can I help peel the potatoes?"
May you like
"The peeler is in the second drawer," Clare said with a smile.
***