Mother placed a light hand on Father's shoulder, almost as if she expected him to do something rash upon seeing the women standing outside.

I had never heard any of them mention my grandmother before, or another Aunt on Father's side. They had told me what had happened to my maternal grandmother but there had been no mention of Grandfather's wife or any other children the two of them had. Since they never mentioned her, I had never asked too many questions nor expected to be told anything and just assumed she had died. Yet there she was standing outside the house with an Aunt I knew nothing about.

Behind me, Aunt Charlotte took in a sharp intake of breath and exchanged a quick glance with Uncle Zachariah. We all just stood staring out of the window and Father looked as though he was willing Grandmother to get back into the car and drive away. Perhaps he wanted to play the trick on her that we used to play on my Great Aunt Molly - lie on the floor and pretend we weren't home. I doubted that all of us gathered around the window would achieve that.

Before Father could enact his plan of lying on the floor, the older of the two women turned towards the window. Upon spotting us, she offered a small wave and in front of me, Father groaned. Due to his reaction, I assumed we had no choice but to meet the woman who Father had called my Grandmother. Personally, I didn't really want to meet a woman that no one discussed, especially as there had to be a reason for it.

"Stay calm, Robert. This isn't the time to go flying off the handle," Mother said. She removed her hand from Father's shoulder and they started to make their way out of the room with the rest of us trailing a little awkwardly behind.

"I'll stay calm if she does."

"Izzy, stay close to me," Mother said.

We stepped out the front door and into the sunlight, Uncle Zachariah had bought Hannah's pram with him and she gurgled away inside without a care in the world. Mother placed a hand on my shoulder and gripped it rather tightly, but I didn't say anything. I looked over at the two women, trying to understand the animosity and tension that had built up since they first arrived.

The first, the oldest, had grey hair that she had twisted into a knot on the back of her head. She wore a black dress of mourning that appeared to be adorned in lace and despite the warm weather, she carried an umbrella. The other woman looked several years older than Father, she too wore a black mourning dress with her dark hair twisted up the same way as Grandmothers. She looked like a younger version of her, almost like a copy.

"There they are! My children! It has been far too long," Grandmother said.

"And we know whose fault that is," Father mumbled.

"Charlotte, my baby girl!" Grandmother swept forward with open arms and pulled Aunt Charlotte into a hug, much to Aunt Charlotte's disgust. She placed a kiss on each of Aunt Charlotte's cheek and then stepped back, looking at Harry and Frank. "And who are these darling children?"

"This is Harry and Frank, my sons. And this is my husband, Jasper."

"You're both the spitting image of your Grandfather, God bless his soul." Grandmother bowed his head before stepping to the side and looking at Uncle Zachariah. "My boy, look at you now."

"Mother."

Grandmother made no attempt to hug him or even kiss him on the cheek, perhaps she could sense the animosity. She did offer him a wide smile, however. She moved over the pram where Hannah lay, oblivious to what was going on around her. "And who is this little cherub?"

"Hannah. These two are Anna and John, and that's Florence." He kept a firm grip on all of his children, as though not wanting her to get anywhere near them.

"And your wife?"

"She died, a year ago."

"Oh, such a shame."

Grandmother said nothing else on the matter, but by the look on her face, she was biting back something. I watched her move slowly across the gravel towards Father, almost as if she was reluctant to get anywhere near him. Mother's grip on my shoulder tightened. Compared to everyone else, they felt more stiff and tense about this reunion. I could almost feel the tension radiating off the two of them, but I didn't know why and I knew I couldn't ask, not yet anyway.

I stopped staring at Grandmother and instead moved to my aunt who had started to make her own way towards her apparently estranged siblings. She didn't appear as upbeat as Grandmother and appeared to be wearing her grief rather than hiding it. A few tense words were exchanged between them before she moved close to Grandmother, and the two of them walked towards Father.

Part of me felt like I should disappear back into the house and hide in the kitchens until Grandmother left, but I didn't know why. I knew there had to be some underlying incident that led to the split between the family, but it had never been mentioned before. Still, I had thought it odd that there were no photographs or paintings of Grandmother in the house. Now I knew why, well, partially.

"Robert," Grandmother said. There was no smile, no attempt of hugging or even the slightest show of warmth she had offered the others.

"Hello, Mother."

"And this is?" She ignored Mother, almost as though she wasn't there and looked down at me. A faint look of disgust crossed her face.

"This is Isabel, our daughter."

"Hm, of course, you would name her after that girl."

"Well, we weren't going to name her after you." I could almost hear the venom in Father's words when he spoke.

"Why don't we go inside?" Mother said before anyone else could respond. "I don't like the look of those clouds."

Mother gave Father a look, the same one she often gave me when I was about to do something that would land me in trouble. She had one eyebrow raised and her lips pressed into a thin line, it was an expression I had come to know all too well. Father gave a very curt nod on his head before he headed inside the house with Mother steering me inside, her hand still gripping my shoulder.

Behind me, I heard Aunt Charlotte whisper something to the boys and Uncle Zachariah doing the same. Although I didn't know what they were saying, I decided it had to be some sort of warning about their behaviour going forward. Grandmother didn't come across like the sort of person who would tolerate any form of bad behaviour from anyone, even if her own behaviour was less than exemplary.

We walked back into the parlour where Grandmother took her seat on one of the sofa's with my aunt, who had yet to be named, sat beside her. Father moved over to the window and stood with his arms folded over his chest and he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but in that room with her. Mother released my shoulder and went to stand near Father. The suffocating silence that had weighed down on us earlier in the day returned, only this time its weight was far heavier.

Hannah picked up on the tension almost immediately and started to scream, a high-pitched wail that sounded like a cat being stood on. Uncle Zachariah tried rocking the pram to see if he could convince her to go back to sleep but it didn't do anything, Hannah just screamed louder. Grandmother looked on, a look of annoyance etched to her face and she looked a little mad that Hannah had started screaming, as though Uncle Zachariah should have done a better job with her.

"I think she's hungry," Uncle Zachariah said.

"I can take her downstairs," I said.

"Are you sure?" I nodded. "You are a lifesaver, Izzy."

"You can pay me later." I laughed, bending down into the pram and lifting Hannah out of it.

"Like Mother, like daughter," my aunt said, chuckling slightly.

"The same thing can be said of you, Matilda. You're both as vindictive as each other," Father said.

"You should go, Izzy, before this gets ugly. Perhaps have Esther send up some more tea? Anything might work as a distraction." Uncle Zachariah smiled at me, but he looked worried as if a fight might break out.

I nodded and readjusted my grip on Hannah who continued to scream with her face starting to bright red. The conversation in parlour died as quickly as it started and a quick glance over at Father told me that I would be better off making my escape whilst I had the chance and before the situation got overheated. Aunt Charlotte like she wanted to take her leave too, but she couldn't. With Hannah in hand, I left the parlour and headed down to the kitchens.

Aunt Matilda's comment echoed around my head as I descended the stairs. I had known Mother had been a servant and worked for Grandfather, she had met Father that way and it was a story they didn't try to hide it or shy away from it. It was a badge Mother wore with pride, a message she gave me that circumstances do not have to dictate the outcome of my life. I didn't understand why Aunt Matilda would act like being a servant was a bad thing, or why she felt the need to make the comment in the first place.

Mother was the strongest person I knew.

In the kitchen, Mrs Smith poured over a pan she had bubbling away on the stove with Mary and Helen chopping vegetables at the table. Mrs Smith smiled when she saw me.

"Someone hungry?"

"Definitely. She has a pair of lungs on her."

"Helen, do you mind?"

"Not at all," Helen said. She approached me and took Hannah out of my arms crossing to the other side of the room in search of the bottles Zachariah had bought with him.

"Did I hear the front door?" Mrs Smith asked.

"Yes, my grandmother turned up, and my aunt."

"Mrs Ealing? Here? The cheek of it." She shook her head.

"I don't understand. Why does nobody like her? Everyone upstairs is acting odd and neither of them appears to like me and I haven't said anything to them. I didn't even know that they existed."

Mrs Smith sighed and stepped away from the pan. She too appeared stunned by Grandmother's arrival and it felt like I was the only one being kept in the dark. My cousins were far too young to understand any of it and I doubted Frank and Harry cared all that much about it. That, and Grandmother didn't appear to dislike any of them other than me. It was me she had pulled the face at and me Aunt Matilda had made the comment towards. Whatever had happened had to involve Mother and Father, so by extension, it involved me too.

"You are better off asking your parents that one, it is not my place to say what happened and I doubt they would appreciate me telling you without their consent. All you need to know is to not take anything either of them says to heart. It won't do well to dwell on their comments and they aren't worth the hassle, either."

"If they didn't tell me about her before, why would they tell me now?"

"Times change, Izzy, but I am sure they would tell you not that you have met them."

She turned back towards the pan and said no more on the matter but I wanted to ask more questions. It was clear that Grandmother was known for making less than appropriate comments, but how could I not take comments to heart? Aunt Matilda's comment had bothered me because she made it seem like following in Mother's footsteps or being like her was a bad thing, but it couldn't be. I didn't understand why they acted the way they did.

I stayed in the kitchen until Helen and finished feeding Hannah, her screaming having stopped and she had returned to gurgling and giggling away. In that time, Mary had carried a pot of tea upstairs and occasionally we would hear the sound of raised voices, but they were never clear enough to make any sense. It certainly felt like a day in which we were supposed to be mourning Grandfather and all those lost in the sinking had turned into a shouting match and a reunion no one had asked for.

Helen handed Hannah back and returned to chopping the vegetables. I sighed and reluctantly started to climb the stairs but I didn't want to go to the parlour if everyone was still yelling at one another. Father's voice carried the loudest and as I made my way into the hall, it became clearer

"Why are you here Mother? It has been twenty-four years since we last saw you and yet you turn up today of all days. Not only that, but you refuse to say one word to my wife and insult my child in the process," Father said.

"I am here to mourn your father, the same way you are."

"The man you bullied for years and then turned your back on the moment he started to see through the Façade? Don't make me laugh."

"I loved him."

"No, you didn't! You were in love with his money, anyone can see that! You made it clear that that was all you cared about when you were mad about Matilda's marriage to Alexander Warrington fell through because of his illegal activities and when you forced me to court Maisie Blacklock. He gave you everything, and you still didn't love him."

"You are being irrational, Robert. Perhaps we should return another day when you are of a sound mind. Lord only knows you didn't like this before you met her."

"Leave Rosie out of this."

I walked into the room and the conversation all but ceased. Uncle Zachariah took Hannah from me and offered me a slight smile. It looked like the adults had sent the children away because I could hear Anna laughing in the next room. Clearly, this conversation was not for any of our ears.

"We shall take our leave and return at a time when you are thinking more clearly. Your father would never have wanted you to behave like this." Grandmother stood up and readjusted her grip on her umbrella. "Matilda, come."

"Father would never have wanted you to come to the house today."

Grandmother said nothing. Instead, she strutted from the room with Aunt Matilda following close behind her. When they passed me, they both offered me a sharp glare as though the entire thing had been my fault. I just stood there and stared back at them, following Mrs Smith's advice and refusing to take their comments about me and my family to heart.

The tension in the room remained long after they left and I caught Father's eyes flicking up to the photograph of Grandfather on the mantel. I knew what he was thinking without him even having to say the words.

It certainly wasn't the memorial that Grandfather deserved.

~~~

A/N - Here we are! Chapter Three! Offline, I've just started Chapter Twenty so we have plenty of material and let me tell you that you are not ready for it! I'm so excited for you to see more of this story since I've really enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it!

Question time! Do you think Robert's comments were justified? Is Mrs Ealing just as evil as you remember? Also, what are your predictions for the future? I want to know!

Comment below!

Dedication - This chapter is dedicated to KateMorrell1 who I think summer up Mrs Ealing's arrival rather well with 'I swear - the sheer nerve of these two!'

First Published - May 25th, 2021