XXVIThe walk back to their cars had been conducted, on the part of Patrick, in stunned silence, followed by an explosion of rapid-fire questions, all of which Bethan answered calmly.
They’d decided to retire to his for a full discussion.
“How am I going to tell Pop?” he said as he passed her coffee.
Bethan sipped the coffee and looked at his flushed face over the rim as he leant both hands on the countertop in his kitchen.
“Does he need to know?”
Patrick leant back on the counter. “I think so.”
“Then bring him to the museum and let him meet his relative.”
Patrick looked over at her with a lop-sided smile. “That easy, ‘ey?”
Bethan shrugged. “You’ve taken it quite well, why shouldn’t he?”
“Bethan, I’m…I’m not taking it well,” he said passionately. “How can any of this be taken well?
