by Mona Marple
Connie smiled. “I’m excited to see him perform.”
“Oh, you have tickets?”
Connie felt her cheeks warm. “Luke said he’d get me a ticket or two. I mean, if it’s not too much trouble.”
Daisy rolled her eyes. “This man! This man loves everyone! He promises everyone tickets which, you’ll understand, is a fine way for his shows not to turn a profit! Bless him. He’s a simple soul really. But if you need any help at all ringing the box office, I can probably find a number for you. They accept credit cards if that would help.”
Connie guffawed and tried to transform the sound into something resembling a laugh. “That would be great.”
Daisy reached in and squeezed Connie’s hand, then fluttered back to her husband.
“You’d never believe that she hated his career before he made the big time, would you?” Christopher asked from beside her.
“I think I’d believe anything in this family,” Connie said.
“She wanted him to join the family business,” Christopher said. “I think she imagined it’d pass to Bobby, then down to Luke. She hated him doing the gigs. You know the ones where maybe four people turn up and the bar pay in beer? He did years of that.”
“So she hasn’t always been his manager?” Connie asked.
Christopher laughed. His craggy face transformed. “She isn’t his manager now! Nothing is what it seems in this family, Connie.”
“So, how about you? What are you hiding?”
Christopher blew out a stream of air. “I’m about to be struck off as a lawyer?”
Connie laughed.
“Is he boring you?” The teenage girl with pink hair appeared at Christopher’s side and flashed such a long-suffering look that Connie had to stifle a giggle. “He’s always boring people.”
“And this is my charming daughter…”
“Fae,” the girl interrupted.
“I like your hair,” Connie said.
“Oh,” Fae said.
Christopher groaned. “She’ll be changing it again now you’ve said that.” He saw Connie’s confused expression and offered a smile. “Us adults aren’t allowed to like anything this one says or does.”
“Ah,” Connie said. “I get it. My sister was the same growing up.”
“You mean you weren’t?” Fae asked.
“Nope,” Connie admitted. “I was a real goody-two-shoes.”
“What’s your sister like now? Has she got old and boring like everyone does?”
“She died,” Connie said.
“Did someone kill her?” Fae leaned in and asked.
“Faerie!” Christopher snapped.
“Don’t call me that! It’s Fae!” The girl exclaimed. “And I was just asking.”
“Nobody killed her,” Connie said. She didn’t feel like sharing any more details with these horrid people. She regretted even mentioning Sage.
“Please, Connie,” Christopher said. He shooed his daughter away and she retreated, back out to whatever room the children had been sent off to. “She’s at a difficult age. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Connie smiled. She thought of the twins, sleeping upstairs. “I guess Taylor and I have all of these worries to come.”
“Mother!” Bobby snapped from across the table. The other conversations stopped and Connie turned in time to see Eliza set fire to a piece of paper that she had tucked into her claw hand. “They were my projections for the new product line!”
“Ramblings of a mad man, that’s what they were,” Eliza said.
“Mom,” Taylor warned as the fire travelled closer to her skin.
“So this is how Eliza Thompson dies!” Christopher called out.
“And you sit there and watch like Judas,” Eliza glared across at him.
“Death must be close, she’s found God,” Christopher said.
Taylor jumped out of his seat and sprinted around to the other side of the table. He grabbed the paper from Eliza’s hand and dunked it in the water jug. The fire sizzled as it soaked out. The water turned cloudy as the black ash of the paper hit the surface.
“You had no right to do that!” Bobby seethed. “I’d worked hard on those ideas.”
“I’ve told you before,” Eliza said. “You shouldn’t waste your time thinking. None of you boys should.”
“Should we all just turn our backs on you until you’re dead? Then get our share? Like Taylor?” Zeb asked from the doorway. He grinned into the room as if the argument was all terribly good fun.
“Where have you been?” Christopher asked.
Zeb winked at him. “Never you mind that.”
“Taylor won’t get a penny,” Daisy said. “He’s living in sin.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Connie heard Luke whisper. Daisy leaned in to him but failed to lower her voice.
“Only the sons who are married get a share of the estate when gran dies. It’s probably why Taylor grabbed the first replacement he could find. I bet he proposes quick.”
Connie stared right ahead and swallowed, tried to appear as if she hadn’t heard the mean words.
“You’re all intolerable,” Eliza said from the head of the table. “I wonder what I did to be cursed with a family like you.”
Connie could listen to no more without being by Taylor’s side. She pushed back her chair and moved to Taylor’s right-hand side. She clutched his hand under the table.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry I forced you to come. I thought you were exaggerating. But, Taylor, you’re right. These people are awful.”
To her surprise, he laughed and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Well, at least I’m not imagining it! They must be bad if you’re prepared to say it.”
“Why don’t we leave in the morning? Make up an excuse and get out of here?”
“I don’t know,” Taylor hesitated. “I kind of feel like there must be a reason she wanted us all here. I should stick it out. You can go, though. I’d understand.”
“No,” Connie insisted. “Whatever we do, we do together.”
“Tonight proves it,” Eliza barked. “I’ve always known that one of you would kill me at some point. That’s why I don’t trust any of you.”
“And to round the evening off, dessert and dramatics!” Zeb sang out.
“Shut up, Zebediah,” Christopher snapped.
“I probably won’t survive the weekend,” Eliza said. She glared at each relative in turn until her eyes met Connie’s. She locked onto her gaze before she spoke again. “You! You’re the outsider here tonight.”
“Mom,” Taylor began.
“Oh, be quiet!” Eliza said. “I’m talking to her. She’s got a tongue, she can speak for herself. And this weekend she’s the outsider. I’m telling you, whatever your name is, keep an eye on them all. I’ve got a feeling I won’t survive the weekend. Keep an eye on them all. Alright?”
Connie felt the eyes on her and swallowed. “Okay,” she agreed.
7
Connie woke before the babies the next morning with a banging headache.
The bedroom she and Taylor had taken smelled like damp, and the curtains were so old and heavy the place had felt as dark as a grave.
In desperate need of some fresh air, she pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a sweater and tied up her sneakers, then headed down the stairs. The manor was silent, which was hardly surprising. Connie was exhausted by the previous night. Living in such a state regularly must turn a person into a zombie.
Taylor wanted to stay, though. She respected that. She’d remain by his side and support him. She just needed the peace and quiet of a walk first.
Walking had always given Connie clarity. She liked to walk before seeing her clients, the people who came to her in hopes of channeling their dead loved ones. Connie loved the head space that nature gave her, and Houndswood Manor was surrounded by beautiful nature.
There was a chill in the air and the ground was enveloped by a swirl of mist. She was p
leased to have the sweater on, although there was something nice about being a little more cold than she would normally be. The walk would warm her up, but until it did, the cold air was refreshing.
She walked around the building and then followed the main path down the back into the grounds. The gardens were decorative, with giant shrubs and hedges trimmed into ornate shapes. In the distance stood a lake and Connie made her way out towards the water’s edge.
When she reached the water, she rubbed her hands together to warm them up and watched the stillness of the water.
Taylor’s family were awful. She had no idea how he had emerged from them as such a decent, caring man.
“What are you doing?” A voice asked. Connie looked around but could see nobody around her. Gradually, a shape on the water came into focus through the mist. Connie stepped back, spooked by the apparition. A child in a rowing boat. Connie was ready to bolt until she recognised the childish giggle. “Did I scare you?”
“Roo?” Connie asked as the boat came closer. “What are you doing? Come ashore! It’s not safe to be out there in this mist.”
The girl shrugged. “I don’t care. It’s only a lake. What’s the worst that can happen? I get off on the wrong side?”
“Nobody can see you’re out here,” Connie said. “Do your parents know where you are?”
“They’re not bothered what I do before 9am on a weekend morning as long as I don’t go into their bedroom,” Roo said.
“Well,” Connie said. “I’m pretty sure that doesn’t include rowing on a boat alone.”
Roo looked at her. Her eyes were impossibly dark and she had a thin coat of hot pink powder on her eyelids. Already the child had more confidence than Connie possessed.
“What are you doing out here, anyway?” Roo asked with an assertiveness that made Connie wince. Maybe that was the benefit of childhood privilege. Being a country star’s daughter had to teach a child a thing or two. She was growing up in a world nothing like the one Connie had inhabited as an awkward child with a poor mother.
“I’m taking a walk,” Connie said. “I have a headache.”
“My mommy gets headaches sometimes,” Roo confided.
Connie nodded.
“It’s all the fighting.”
“Well, everyone fights sometimes,” Connie said. She had no intention of standing there gossiping with Roo about the state of her parents’ marriage.
“Not like this,” Roo shook her head. “I asked Dani and she said her family play card games and then her granddad falls asleep. In this family, they just fight.”
“Ah,” Connie said. “Well, when there’s a lot of people together, they have to be noisy to be heard. It’s nothing to worry about.”
“I’m not worried,” Roo said with a gap-toothed grin. “Granddad told me it’s going to be his year next year.”
“Your granddad Bobby said that?” Connie asked. “Well, that’s good.”
“Want a ride?” Roo offered.
Connie shook her head. “I’m going to carry on my walk and you’re going to let me help you out of the boat. It won’t be anyone’s year if you fall in this dirty water.”
Roo’s eyes opened wide. “It’s dirty?”
“Filthy!” Connie exclaimed. “Look at the green slime on the surface. You don’t want that on your clothes.”
The prospect of getting her clothes dirty seemed to fill Roo with more horror than the prospect of being in real danger, and she rowed back to the water’s edge and allowed Connie to help her out of the boat. As she stepped on to dry land, she placed her foot in a puddle and gasped. The crisp white of her sneakers was marred with a greenish spot and the girl bent over and rubbed at it with vigour.
“You’ll make it worse,” Connie said. “And you don’t want your bare hands touching it. Run along back to the Manor and you’ll be able to scrub it clean with a cloth before anyone else is awake.”
“You think?” Roo asked.
“I’m sure,” Connie said. “Go on.”
She watched the girl sprint back across the path until she was swallowed by the mist. At least she was away from the water. A child in a rowing boat unsupervised! Connie shook her head to dislodge the disastrous scenarios running through her mind.
She took a slow lap of the lake and then returned to the Manor to the smell of bacon and the crackle of a hot frying pan. She saw Grace’s slender frame in the kitchen as she walked by the doorway.
“Connie! I made plenty for everyone!” Grace called out.
Connie’s stomach sank. She’d wanted a few minutes alone with Taylor, but she didn’t want to cause offence. And who was she to pretend she could resist the smell of bacon.
“Fabulous!” She called back and stood in the kitchen waiting while Grace finished frying two rashers and slid them across on to a thick slice of white bread. She placed another slice on top and then cut the sandwich in half.
“No better way to start the day,” Grace said. She had a military air about her, Connie thought.
“Have you seen Roo?” Connie asked.
Grace blinked at her. “What’s happened?”
“Nothing! I just know the twins will love to see her,” Connie lied.
Grace frowned. “I wish we could all see more of you, you know. It’s just impossible! Luke’s touring so much, and Bobby… well, he doesn’t get a second without Eliza barking orders at him. The woman is intolerable, Connie, honestly!”
“Is that why she thinks one of you is going to kill her?” Connie asked with a smile.
Grace rolled her eyes. “Clearly none of us are capable of it or we’d have done it years ago!”
**
“Hey, you,” Taylor smiled at her as if she was the best sight he’d ever laid eyes on, because she was. Being around his family made him even more aware of how good Connie was and how simple the life they were building together was. He’d had enough drama to last him at least one lifetime.
“Howdy!” She took a seat next to him at the dining table. The babies were in highchairs, competing to see who could make the most mess with a dippy egg and bread soldiers. “Oh, my! Look at you two! It’s going to be bath time next, yes it is!”
He watched her plant a kiss on each baby’s head and felt his chest swell. “Are you okay? I saw you out by the lake. Decompression time?”
“Something like that,” she admitted. “Although it wasn’t that relaxing. Roo was out on the lake in a row boat! All alone!”
Taylor raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t know whether to tell Daisy,” Connie said.
“You’ve already got enough on, haven’t you? Keeping my mother alive?” Taylor quipped.
“Don’t!” Connie exclaimed. “She should be asking you for help. You’re the Sheriff!”
“I’m also one of the suspects,” he waggled his eyebrows as he spoke and Connie batted at his arm. “I’m serious. My mother trusts nobody.”
“Well, my money’s on Rose being the killer if anything does happen to her. Trying to get a vegan to eat meat is pretty up there with capital offences.”
“You run a pro-active investigation, Winters. No crime committed and you’ve already decided who is guilty. I like it!” He pulled her in to him and embraced her. She felt like home but smelt like grease. “Have you been allowed in the kitchen again? You really are honoured.”
Connie laughed. “I think Grace is happy to have found someone to help do the menial chopping without asking for any public recognition. She does less work and still gets all the credit.”
Taylor laughed. He didn’t know why he’d ever felt nervous about the reunion. Connie could hold her own.
They’d survive the weekend.
8
“Happy New Year’s Eve, mother,” Christopher leaned in and planted a kiss on her crepe paper skin. She pulled away, wiped the skin clean with her good hand and glared at him.
“Happy? What is there to be happy about?” She snapped. She’d been parked in front of the roaring fire in the l
ounge, where she watched the babies and the adopted girl play together on the ancient rug. That new woman - Taylor’s replacement for his dead wife - sat in a chair in the corner of the room, flicking through a book for no longer than a second before her eyes returned to the infants.
“You’re surrounded by your family, you’re warm and healthy…” Christopher stopped. He was boring himself. He wasn’t a man to count his simple pleasures. He was a man who needed to be seen in the right places with the right people and wearing the right clothes. He wasn’t a looker, he knew that. The one of the four brothers who had been riddled with acne-scars. The other three weren’t male model material, but they each had their own charm.
Bobby had the whole Kennedy look going on, Taylor was the clean-cut modern man, and Zeb? Well, he was a complete scruff, with his unruly beard and his tattered clothes, but somehow the women liked that look.
They all had an edge over Christopher in the physical appearance department, but he’d had the last laugh. He was the only one who had struck out on his own and forged a big career. Law! Corporate law! The work could be dull, and the hours were as long as he was prepared to make them, and the money was never quite enough, but it gave a certain status.
There was the expensive club membership, a necessity really if he was going to entertain corporate clients the way his competitors would. And he could hardly arrive at the membership club without the right car for their valet parking or the right clothes.
The Rolex had been on sale, not that he’d admit that to anyone other than Lottie.
A smile crossed his lips as he thought of his wife. She was the one possession that his colleagues couldn’t rush out to the shop and imitate. He was unsure how he’d wooed her or why she’d stayed, especially as he had reached a state of middle age spread that left him mildly embarrassed. Good food and liquid lunches had a lot to answer for.
She was pregnant almost immediately, and he suspected that was a great deal to do with why she’d stayed. She had grown to love him, to see something in him that was deeper than the skin. He hoped so, at least.