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If I Were You (Inside Out #1)(39)

Author:Lynn Austin

Bobby noticed her tears and started crying too, clutching a fold of her skirt in his fist. “I w-want to go home, Mummy. Can we go h-home?” Audrey needed to calm him before he gave way to hysterics. This long, joyless trip was supposed to have a happy ending with Bobby’s grandparents pulling him into their arms and embracing him with their love. She and Bobby were supposed to have a home at last. But the dream had taken a nightmarish turn. Eve and her son had stolen their places.

Audrey hugged her son tightly, murmuring, “I know, darling. I know you do.”

“What do you mean you’re not his daughter?” Eve asked as if finally running out of patience. Audrey wished she hadn’t spoken.

“Let’s talk about it later. Please?” She gestured to Bobby, still hiccuping tears. “Why don’t you show us around and maybe we can find something for the boys to do while you and I talk.”

“The grand tour will take all of two minutes,” Eve said, her impatience obvious as she stalked from the kitchen. “The dining room is here . . . the living room there . . .” They were one L-shaped room, with a picture window facing the front garden and comfortable sofas and chairs arranged around a coffee table. A small, round table with four maple chairs nestled in the dining alcove. Rainbow-hued dishes filled the matching hutch. “This hall goes to the two bedrooms,” Eve continued, leading the way. “Mine and Robbie’s.” Eve’s bedroom was pleasant, if small. It had a double bed with matching spread and curtains, a dressing table with a mirror—all pretty and feminine but crowded into a tiny space. “Bathroom’s in the hallway . . .” Audrey had never seen pink tile and fixtures before—tub, sink, and toilet, all pink. The black-and-white tile on the floor resembled a tiny chessboard. “Robbie’s room is here.” It had wooden bunk beds with a matching dresser and a bookshelf cluttered with cars and toys. More toys littered the floor.

“Wanna play with my cars?” Eve’s son asked. He spoke the easy, sloppy American way, rather than with crisp British diction, reminding Audrey of Robert.

“Yes, darling, why don’t you play with him?” Audrey nudged Bobby forward, but he shook his head, unwilling to release his hold. He’d always been a shy, timid boy, content to play quietly by himself. But the long trip from Wellingford Hall—the only home he’d ever known—had transformed him into a clinging, weeping child who sometimes cried out in his sleep and wet the bed at night. She must get him settled into their new life as quickly as possible.

Eve ended the tour back in the tiny kitchen with its white metal cupboards, electric stove, and round-top refrigerator. “That’s all there is to see except the cellar and the back garden.” Eve gestured out the window at a grassy, fenced-in space with a single sapling in the middle. The neighborhood was so new that trees hadn’t had time to grow, and houses crowded in on all sides as if sharing secrets. For the space of a heartbeat, Audrey pictured Wellingford’s beautiful formal garden, the way it was before the war with boxwood hedges, colorful flowers, and gravel walkways. She blinked and the vision vanished.

“I couldn’t picture this house when Robert sent me the floor plans and brochures,” she said.

Eve gave a mirthless laugh. “This entire house could fit inside Wellingford’s drawing room. And how many bedrooms does Wellingford have?”

“A lot.” Audrey looked away, not certain she knew. She couldn’t bear to think about Wellingford. “When will Mrs. Barrett return home?” she asked. “I’m eager to meet her.”

“I’m not taking you back to the Barretts’ house, Audrey. We’ll have to sort this out between the two of us, right here and now.”

Audrey sank down on a metal kitchen chair again, her skirt sliding on the red vinyl seat. She pulled Bobby onto her lap and he sagged against her, thumb in his mouth. “We have no place to go, Eve. We’ve traveled a long way and we’re both very tired, and . . . and we have no other place to go.”

Eve released a huge sigh before opening her freezer again and grabbing one of the Popsicles. She peeled off the paper and gave it to her son. “Eat it out in the garden, please,” she told him, opening the screen door. He skipped outside, letting the door close behind him with a slap. Eve sighed again and sank down at the table across from Audrey. “You and your son can sleep in my bedroom tonight. I’ll share with Robbie—unless you’d rather go to a hotel.”

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