Excerpt from The Willow Tree

I remember feeling shocked when she had arrived back that winter.  Shocked…and desperately sad.  Fifteen years ago, I had sent my only daughter into the world – buoyant, full of hopes and dreams for her future.  And now, the world had returned her – angry, bitter and badly damaged.

            She had stood on our doorstep that frosty December evening, nose red from the cold, eyes small and tender from crying.  She had looked lost…thin and brittle.  Was this what divorce did to a person, I wondered?   Suddenly, I felt grateful that Kate and I had been able to work through our problems for the past forty years. 

            “Welcome home, darling,” Kate had said, visibly shaken at our daughter’s appearance.  She had reached out uncertain arms for a hug. 

            But Jessie had brushed past, tears in her eyes.

            “This is not my home,” she had said, in a thin, unsteady voice.  “I’ve left my home behind.” 

And, with that, she had rushed blindly upstairs to her childhood room.  Kate and I had exchanged a quick look of dismay.  While I dealt with the suitcases, Kate had rushed to tackle the far more daunting task of soothing our only child.