Ellen, have you seen Mums old jam pan? You know the oneshe always used it for making cherry jam, asked Olivia, flinging open cupboard doors in the cramped little kitchen of their cottage. Ive looked everywhere for it.
Perhaps she put it up in the loft? She did say after Dad left, there was no one to make jam for anymore.
Oh, so were not people now? Olivia huffed, standing from her knees and groaning as her back twinged.
Whats wrong? Ellen shot her a worried glance.
Its my back again. Nothing new. Just stood funny, thats all.
You really should see the GP.
Theyll only tell me what I already know.
You sound just like Mum! Ellen flicked her hand in frustration, droplets flying from the cherries she was rinsing, some of them landing on Max the cat, who was dozing on the chair beside her. Max squinted open a daisy-yellow eye, glared at the sisters, then flopped his paw over his nose and went back to sleep. Remember how you always insisted Mum ought to see a doctor? She never listened, did she, and look how that ended up.
Lets not start, Ellen. My backs hurt for years, and it always will. No point getting into it now. Lets just find the pan. I tried making jam in something elsetastes fine, but its not right.
Do you think Mum had some secret method?
She never said anything. We made it together loads of timesalways the same.
Ellen wiped her hands and left the kitchen.
Where are you off to? Olivia called after her.
The loft.
I couldve gone myself.
Better you stay put. If you hurt your back up there, wed have to hire a crane to get you down.
Olivia laughed, a round, big-bellied laugh. The sisters had a way of being bluntno need for politesse. They looked like oppositesEllen was tall and bony as a fencepost, Olivia short and softbut in character, they were two peas in a pod. Olivia had their mothers blue, ice-clear eyes and her fathers dark, curly hair, but other than that, she took after her gran on Mums side: plump and doughy, but steely inside. From her youngest days, everyone knew shed inherited Grans backbone as well as her looks. Her first word wasnt mummy butscowling fiercely, gripping the spoon offered by her motherMyself! That spirit shaped her whole life.
Olivia knew her familys story inside-out and was proud whenever anyone compared her to Gran. Margaret Johnson, or Granny Meg as everyone called her, was a legend: Widowed at twenty-three, left utterly alone with twin daughters because her own parents had died and her in-laws refused to helpciting their heartbreak as an excuseGranny Meg didnt complain. She wasnt going to raise the twins on her measly typing wages, so she swallowed her pride and knocked at her neighbours.
Mrs. Farnsworth, you know everyone. Is anyone looking for help? Cleaning, errands, anything. Im careful and not afraid of hard work.
I know, dear. Mrs. Farnsworthdoughty, upright, a school headmistress for over a decadecould silence mischief with a glance. Even the oldest cleaner, whod outlasted two headteachers, treated her with a respectful madam. She knew half the county.
Only pouring tea for Margaret, Mrs. Farnsworth eyed her keenlyare you sure youll manage for some of those flighty sorts wholl want help? They can be a funny lot.
Do I have a choice?
No. Either you work, or you dont. Why not put the girls in care, just for a while? Once youre stable, you get them back.
Margaret paused, steadying herself. At last she drew herself up. Thats not how I was raised, to drop my children like unwanted kittens. Thank you, but no.
Sit, then! Mrs. Farnsworth smiled at Margarets stubbornness. Now I know youll manage. Youve got more guts than most. Ill help.
She kept her word, fixing Margaret up as housekeeper to Miss Millicent, a retired diva, eccentric, disorganised, fiercely talented and lonely. Miss Millicent insisted Margaret bring the twins round, filling her echoing house with the first warmth it had known in decades.
Bring the girls, Margaret! Theyll hear good music, and Ill finally have someone to fuss over.
It took time for Margaret to see why Millicent pushed for all that fuss, until, tipsy one Christmas, Millicent confessed her own heartbreakmusic had filled her life, but shed never had children, no companion in her vast, empty house.
So Millicent adored the twins, begged to be godmother, spoiled them rottena balm, really, for her own loneliness.
You must send Georgina for violin lessons! Her ear is marvellous! And so the twins began music school. Margaret finished her business course and landed a better job; the years of skimping came to a close, but she never forgot Millicent. When Millicent fell ill, Margaret juggled both houses, the girls helping as best they couldcleaning, coaxing Miss Millicent to eat her favourite soup, or better yet, play them a song.
Millicent passed away quietly, one mid-winter morning; Margaret found her, drew close to the bed and saw, for the first time in years, the young, vibrant woman Millicent had once beena queen at the enormous grand piano in the front room, echoing silvery notes and singing heart-stopping arias that wiped away worry, bringing a deep peace.
After the funeral, Margaret hesitated before moving into the flat Millicent left to the twins in her will. The solicitor, wiping away a tear, murmured, The finest lady I ever knew. She wanted the girls to have a piece of her heart. Thank her and be happy. Thats all she wanted.
The children grew like weeds. Soon Georgina and Catherine finished school, chose careers outside music, married, and moved to different corners of the country. In time, each family welcomed a firstborn a couple of months apartMargaret was twice a granny overnight. When she visited in turn, Margaret couldnt help but notice Georginas happiness, while Catherines home was fraught: Geraint, her husband, gentle as a lamb, just couldnt keep the household afloat, and Catherine was at her wits end dealing with her mother-in-law. Margaret suggested they move into Millicents old flat.
Georginas fine with it, and you need a break, love. Otherwise youll lose both husband and child, Margaret said, and that settled it.
Olivia remembered first crossing the threshold as a five-year-old, awestruck by the grand piano. While the grown-ups bustled, she crept over, lifted the lid, and pressed a key. The piano exhaled, then trembled out a note, and another; not music exactly, just noise, but Olivia was entranced.
Olivia! Her mothers sharp voice made her jump; the lid slammed down, trapping her fingers, and Olivias tears flowed. Pain compounded when she received a slap for good measure.
Dont ever touch that piano!
How she cried in the arms of Margaret, who came running.
Whats wrong, my love?
Margaret shook her head at her daughter. Catherine! Why? Did Miss Millicent ever stop you playing her piano?
Im not Millicent, Mum. I dont want the piano ruined. We might need it someday.
But what if shes talented like you or Georgina were?
Theres nothing there; Id know. Shes tone-deaf!
So the path to music was blocked for Olivia. No matter how Margaret argued, Catherine was adamantOlivia could do anything but music. It took Margaret a while to understand why Catherine preferred her younger child, but when Ellen was born, everything became clear.
My beauty! My little sunshine! Catherine crooned over Ellen. Youll be the prettiest, the cleverest child!
But what about Olivia? asked Margaret, worried.
Shes fine, Mum. You fuss too much! I always dreamed of having a child of my own, doing everything my own way. Now Im finally happyreally happy, Mum.
Margaret took Olivia to the countryside whenever she could. She saw how lost Olivia felt when her little sister arrivedhow hard it was for her to accept her demotion from only child to, well, afterthought.
Gran, does Mum love me now she has a new baby?
Of course, sweetheart. Ellen just needs more help at the momentshe cant feed herself or get dressed yet. But youre her big sister! Shell need you to teach her everything you know.
Olivia was clevershe knew Ellen was here to stay, and that her own place wouldnt get any larger. Nobody explained why some parents seem to reserve more love for the youngest. She realised it herself, sulked only at her mother, not her sister, and made up her mind: If she couldnt win affection, shed win attention. She excelled at school, drew beautifully, even joined a gymnastics club. But Mum simply nodded distractedly at her achievements, Well done.
Things only got worse as Ellen grew. Now Catherine poured all her pride into her youngest. Everything Ellen did was praised to the rafters.
Mum, shes only six, and shes already reading!
Olivia did at five.
Oh, but Im talking about Ellen! Shes started at the music academyher ears fantastic; thank goodness for that piano!
Margaret could have wept for her eldest granddaughter, but she knew better than to get between Catherine and her favourite. Instead she tried to ensure the girls kept their bondno small task.
Circumstance helped. Catherine and Ellen had used Millicents flat and the little cottage for years but when Georginas marital situation changed, she announced her plan to return home.
Its just you here now, Mum, and Catherine Ive got no friends over there, she confessed sadly. Its hard, being married to someone so pretty and yet a little too friendly with other women.
Silly girl! Youve got to keep your husband on his toes, Catherine replied, but Georgina only managed a wan smile.
How will you manage back here? Margaret asked.
No worries, Mum. We have Millicents and your old place. Well sort it, Georgina said.
Catherine listened, her mood darkening. At home, she let her feelings out.
What now, Geraint? Were supposed to move out? Georgina never helped with any repairs. We did everything!
Theres two of you, both Millicents heirs, Geraint replied calmly.
Dont take her side! And as for youOliviawhen you get married, where will you live? With your mother? Dont interfere!
But Catherine stopped short of a full-blown family war. Perhaps she foresaw that quarrelling with her mum and sister would leave her all alone, or perhaps she decided to wait for her opportunity. They sold the flat and split the proceeds; both sisters agreed to keep the cottage for the family to share. The house was big enough for all.
Margaret, growing older surrounded by her granddaughtersOlivia and Ellen, Catherines girls, and Nina and Penny, Georgina’swas in her element.
Like a mother hen with all my chicks! she beamed, wrapping her arms around them.
She dreamed of seeing them married with children of their own, but fate had other plans. One gusty autumn day, getting the cottage ready for winter, Margaret was struck by a falling branch from a half-dead walnut tree next door. She wasnt found straight away, and by the time she reached hospital, the doctors could do nothing.
Suddenly, everything changed. No more Grandma Margarets pies, no more heart-to-hearts, no words of wisdom just when needed.
Six months after Margarets passing, Geraint told Catherine he was leaving.
Why?! Catherine was hysterical, unable to believe it.
I cant anymore. Ill help, but I cant live with you.
Youre having an affair!
No, Catherine. No one else. He looked exhausted and said nothing more.
Catherine blamed everyone but herselfOlivia, even her darling Ellen.
Youre not to see your father! Disobey and dont bother coming home.
Mum, do you ever listen to yourself? Were grown up! Ill see him if I wish, and if you try to stop me, Ill stop talking to you.
Stunned, Catherine opened her mouth to scold, but Ellen stepped beside Olivia, both frowning identically, and Catherine realised she couldnt risk losing Ellen.
Do what you like. You dont care about your poor mother.
She made a feeble attempt to play Ellen off against her sister, but quickly gave up.
Didnt think this of you! Catherine sobbed in her battered old chair in the cottage one day. I lived for you, Ellen, and you
What did I do that was so wrong, Mum? Ellens patience snapped easily these days.
There was never an answerevery argument faltered against Ellens logic.
Hes my father, Olivias my sister. Were family! Like it or not, I wont stop seeing them.
In time, tempers cooled; Catherines main aim now was to win Ellen round again.
Found it! Ellens triumphant voice echoed from the loft.
The proper copper pan?
Yep! Just need to figure out how to get down, and then we can get this jam going.
Olivia let out a little squeak, hurrying to steady the rickety ladder.
Careful, Ellen! No rushing.
As if I rush! grinned Ellen, climbing down slowly. Here! Go wash it. Ill changecovered in dust! We’ll get the girls to do it next time they’re here. Give them something to do.
A couple of hours later, the sisters sat in the kitchen, sipping tea. The old jam pan, shining, still warm from the stove, was filled with cherry jam, its scent so thick even Max had fled to nap on the veranda. If only it had smelled of the ham Catherine used to make in the autumn! This was only jamwhat was the fuss?
Ellen, remember when Mum used to make jams? Not just one or two pans. Shed fill the larder shelves.
I do. Dad loved cherry jamcould eat it by the spoonful.
Mum would always tut
She hated him eating from the jar. Always told him he wasnt the only one who liked it
She said it all right and then made sure hed end up alone.
Well, not quite, Oliviawere still here for him.
But Mum, she ended up only with us. Had a big row with Georgina and wont even see her grandchildren. Cut herself off from her friends too. Why, Ellen?
I wish I knew. Ellen sighed, topping up the teapot. Never did understand Mum.
Strange. She always insisted you were the only one who did.
No chance! How could I, when shed say, Ellen darling, dont go following Oliviashes not a friend for you. Who, then?! Why was she always trying to turn us against each other? Was she jealous?
Maybe.
Ridiculous.
Do you remember sneaking my old toys back to me after Mum gave them to you because youre too old for them now?
Ellen grinned. Your favouritesthe old doll and bear. And how shed chase you out whenever I practised piano?
Too right! Olivia, mimicking their mother, put her hands on her hips: Olivia, out! Ellen, darling, do your music!
Ellen burst out laughing, watching how Olivias face could become their mothers for a second.
She never guessed you were teaching me to play. Every music lesson at school, we did together, secretly.
You always loved the piano more than I did, and still play better.
Oh, nonsense, said Olivia, though the compliment made her smile.
Shame you never went to music college.
Oh well, numbers have their music too. Submitting those yearly tax reports is a whole symphony in itself!
They shared a laugh, then Ellen asked quietly, Olivia, why do you think Mum was like that?
I dont know. You cant peek into someone elses mind. I think about it often. Gran loved us all without exception, raised her girls to share everything evenly. Even Georgina says she never felt less loved than Catherine. No bitterness. Georgina says, if Catherine ever wants to talk, shell greet her with open arms, no questions. Why hold a grudge when you can have peace, even for a day?
Do you think shes right?
Olivia moved the teacups and sweets absentmindedly. Yeah, I do. If I were younger and dafter, maybe Id say something different. But Georginas got the right idea. Time hurries on, and Mum refuses to accept it. One day, the person you want to say sorry to, or thank you, wont be there.
You thought that up?
Olivia shook her head and smiled. No. Gran told me, long ago. She always said, Theres nothing dearer than your family, not really. Even if they dont love you how you wish, you can still love them the way you want.
Just like Georgina does now.
Maybe Mum will learn, even now. Shes no spring chicken. Oh! Look at the time! Why are we still sitting about? The girls will be here soon and weve not lifted a finger! You do the salad, Ill get started on the pasties. Double-quick, now!
A couple of hours later, a small minibus pulled up by the gate, Georginas son-in-law at the wheel, and children tumbled out like peas from a pod.
Gran and Nana! they chorused, their voices ringing above the cherry trees as Max fled for the bushes.
He understood well enough what the invasion meant: a storm of childrenGeorginas great-grandchildren, Olivias grandkids, and Ellens cherished (and so far only) grandson. Sheltered in the shrubbery, Max watched the lamps flick on one by one on the veranda, saw the noisy crowd gather around the big round table, still with Millicents heavy cloth.
Each child got their own mug, kept specially for them, taken out only on these visits. Olivia brought out the jam pan. Everyone knew it meant the jam wouldnt last the weekif there was any left to bottle at all. Cherry stones would go flying unseen into the bushes, and if a grown-up caught anyone, the children would widen their eyes: The stones will grow! So we can make jam too, granpromise!
Later, as everyone drifted through the house readying for bed (not really intending to sleep, of course), they would sneak onto the veranda steps to sing softly for much of the night, some drifting off in the arms of older cousins. And then, at last, Max could slip out of hiding, pad through the quiet house and curl up beside a little one, where a small hand would pat him and nestle into his fur. Hed purr, chasing away bad dreams, finally dozing himself as he listened, in the hush, to the gentle sound of happiness all around.
