'He just thought you were a bit down and had been through a rough time — what with your housekeeper and PA leaving.'
'My PA didn't leave, I threw her out,' Dana corrected. 'And I've since re-hired her. And the only reason Iris left is because she's a narrow-minded old prude who thinks the sun shines out of Gus's arse.'
Ed threw back his head and laughed.
'How did Gus find you?' Dana asked.
'Your agent told him where I lived.'
She nodded. Of course Walter knew that. Though she was surprised he'd remembered.
'There are lots of people who obviously care about you,' Ed said with a smile.
Dana sighed. 'I think they're more concerned about the book.'
'I'm sure that's not true.'
'You don't understand. This book is supposed to launch a new label in Ireland and the UK. It needs to be good or else they'll choose a different author. And the publisher probably won't even renew my contract in the US.'
'I'm sure it will be fine.'
'I don't think so.'
'The break is going to slow you down/ he agreed, 'but you can still use your right hand.''
She shook her head. 'It's not that. I just can't seem to produce those sort of books any more. At least, not good ones.'
'You've been through a rough patch. It will come back. You've written eighteen bestsellers — that wasn't exactly a fluke.'
'How do you know that?' she asked, surprised.
He looked at her as if she was mad. You're my sister! I've followed your career every step of the way. And boasted about you on occasion!'
'Really?'
'Really.'
'Well, number nineteen definitely won't be a best-seller,' she said, her face sad.
'Because of Gus leaving?'
She nodded, swallowing back her tears. This wasn't supposed to be happening. She didn't want to spill her guts, and certainly not to Ed.
'Well, you were together a long time. But I'm sure it's just a temporary problem.'
'How are you sure?' she scoffed. 'You don't know anything about me.'
Ed inclined his head in acknowledgement. 'I meant that going through a break-up would probably have the same effect on anyone.'
Dana sipped her drink in silence.
'That won't help.' He nodded at the glass in her hand.
'On the contrary, I find it helps enormously.' Dana winced as she reached for the bottle.
'Let me.'
'Maybe I will take something.'
Immediately he was on his feet. 'What?'
'The doctor gave me some painkillers; they're on the bedside table upstairs.'
'Is it okay to take them with alcohol?'
'Just get them, Ed,' she said, tired. When he had gone she sank back into the cushions, cradling her arm. She couldn't believe that Gus had contacted Ed. Did that mean he still cared, or just that he had a guilty conscience? Probably the latter.
Ed returned with the capsules and a glass of water. She swallowed them with a mouthful of wine. 'Okay, okay, I get the message,' he said, and topped up his own glass.
'So what else did my darling husband have to say for himself?'
'Not much.'
'Did he tell you about my replacement?'
Ed's face changed. 'No, he didn't. Are you sure there is one?'
'Not only has their photograph been in the paper, I saw them together with my own eyes — bumped into them in a restaurant.'
'I'm sorry,' he said.
She shrugged and smiled. 'That's okay, I have a replacement of my own. He's coming over later.'
'I suppose I'd better make myself scarce, then.'
'Yes, please. But thanks for coming. It was very good of you.'
His eyes twinkled in amusement. 'I said I'd make myself scarce, Dana, not that I was leaving.'
'But I don't need you.'
'How will you manage alone?'
Dana widened her eyes and smiled. 'Who says I'll be alone?'
'You were when I found you yesterday,' he reminded her. 'Does this guy work for a living?'
'Yes, but—'
'Then you'll still be alone all day.'
'There's the cleaner—'
'Who'll be here for two hours a week. How will you make a sandwich, open the coffee jar, get your shopping or -' his eyes widened in mock horror — 'open a bottle of wine?'
She scowled at him. He made it sound awfully difficult, and her wrist did hurt like hell. But she could pay someone to come in and look after her. Still, the thought of a stranger helping her wasn't very appealing.
Ed stood up. 'I'm going to take a shower. As soon as your company arrives, I'll make myself scarce. But,' he added, adopting a bad Arnold Schwarzenegger accent and shaking his finger at her, 'I'll be back.'
When Ryan buzzed to be let in, he was taken aback to hear a male voice. 'Hello, I'm Ryan Vaughan. Dana is expecting me.'
'Come in.'
When he got out of the car, there was a man standing at the door waiting for him. 'I'm Ed, Dana's brother.'
Ryan put out his hand. 'Nice to meet you.'
Ed ignored it. 'My sister's been through a tough time. She doesn't need to be messed around.'
Ryan smiled. 'No, she doesn't.'
'What exactly are your plans?'
'Well, I was hoping to have some dinner and wash it down,' Ryan held up a bottle, 'with a rather nice Burgundy.'
Ed didn't smile. 'I'll be watching you.'
Chapter Twenty-Eight
'Are you okay?' Ryan asked.
'Yes. Sorry. I haven't been great company, have I? This wasn't quite the evening I had in mind.' Dana smiled apologetically.
'You've been lovely as always,' he said gallantly. 'But I'd better go. You need to rest. And I don't want your brother beating me up.'
She frowned. 'Why, did he say something?'
Ryan shrugged off the question. 'He's just being a protective brother, and who can blame him?'
'Considering he hasn't been in my life for twenty years, I can. Ignore him, Ryan. I'm going to send him packing as soon as I can find someone to babysit me.'
'Surely you could tolerate him until the cast comes off. He seems okay.'
'It's not that simple. We have history, as they say.'
He stood up and stretched. 'Maybe this will be an opportunity for you to deal with that.'
'Don't hold your breath.'
He bent to kiss her tenderly. 'I'll call you.'
'Will you?'
'Sure, why not?' He looked surprised.
She gestured to her arm. 'I'm not going to be much fun for a while. And now I've a bodyguard trying to scare you off.'
Ryan traced a finger down the side of her face and bent to kiss her lips again. 'It would take an awful lot to get rid of me. Now, would you like me to escort you up to bed before I go? I'd be happy to help you undress.'
She laughed. 'Well, thanks for the offer, but I think I might do some work before I turn in.'
'Are you sure you're up to it?'
'Sometimes it's like I don't have a choice,' she admitted. 'It just sort of takes me over.'
'I find that fascinating,' he said as they walked together into the hall. 'So you must have nearly finished the book by now.'
Dana pulled a face. 'Ah. But it's not that book that I want to work on.'
'Oh, you have a new project?'
'Um, sort of.'
'I'd love to read it.'
'Really?'
'Absolutely.'
'We'll see.'
He kissed her. 'Don't stay up too late, okay?'
'I won't. Goodnight, Ryan. Drive carefully.'
It was a couple of hours later when Ed returned. After a few minutes there was a knock on the door and he stuck his head in. 'Lover boy gone?'
Dana didn't look up. 'Yes.'
'I thought you couldn't write?' He came in and sat down in Sylvie's old chair.
'It's not the novel. Look, I don't like being watched when I'm working.'
'But
you're not working.'
She looked up at him. 'Where have you been?'
Ed stood up. 'I met some friends. Fancy a night-cap?'
'Yeah, okay. Let's have it in the sitting room.'
He went off to get the drinks and she saved her work, closed down her machine and went into the other room. It was colder in here and she shivered.
'Will I put on the fire?' Ed said, coming in and setting the drinks down on the coffee table.
Dana picked up a remote and flicked on the fire. 'No need.'
'Very fancy.' He sat down in the armchair. 'Did you have a nice evening?'
'Lovely.'
'Where did you meet this guy?'
'I picked him up at a club,' Dana said, deliberately baiting him.
'Very classy. And is it love?'
'No, but it's a lot of fun.'
'Gus really hurt you, didn't he?' It was a statement rather than a question. 'And yet he seems like a nice enough bloke.'
'As I've learned over the years, people aren't always what they seem.'
'You're so touchy, Dana. Why is that?'
'You're great with the questions, aren't you, Ed? But not so good with the answers.'
He looked her in the eye. 'Try me.'
'Why did you do it?'
'You know why. I thought you and Mum would be better off if I left. Dad only got angry because of me. If I wasn't around, I knew he'd calm down.'
She shook her head. 'That's not what I meant.'
'Then what?'
'Mum's funeral,' she said.
'What about it?'
'What about it?' She sat forward, jolting her arm in the process. 'Ow!'
'Look, let's not talk any more tonight. You're tired and in pain—'
'I'm fine.'
'You're not.'
'I don't want to go to bed yet.'
He drained his glass and stood up. 'If you want my help, you'll have to.'
'If there was any way I could do this without you, believe me I would.'
'But you can't,' he said smugly, 'so just put up and shut up.'
'Is there anything else you need?' Ed asked, when she was tucked in.
Dana realized that she had already started to drift off, and opened her eyes in surprise to see him standing over her.
'I've left your painkillers right here and a glass of water with a straw; I thought that would be easier for you to manage.'
'Thank you,' Dana said, touched by his thoughtfulness.
'Is there anything else you need?' he asked again.
'Could you bring up my laptop and charger?' she asked. 'If I can't sleep I may as well write.'
'Sure.' Ed returned a few minutes later with the laptop and set it up beside her on Gus's pillow.
'Thanks.'
'No problem. Sleep well, Dana.'
Ian rolled his eyes at Sylvie and held the phone away from his ear.
'I'm sorry, Dana, but I haven't had much luck so far. It's impossible to get a housekeeper/nurse. One agency could supply you with a part-time nurse, but she wouldn't be willing to take on any domestic duties. Also, it would probably be a different nurse each week.'
'Dear God, what's the point of running an agency if you can't meet people's needs?'
'Yes, disgraceful, isn't it?' Ian sympathized. 'I'll keep trying, Dana.'
"Thanks, Ian. Call me if you come up with any-thing.'
'So did she tell you how she broke her wrist?' Sylvie asked as Ian hung up.
'Tripped and fell.'
Sylvie sighed. 'She was probably drunk.'
'Probably.'
'At least she's still able to write.'
'But is she?'
'Absolutely. We're nearly there now, really.' Sylvie turned back and looked at the writing on her screen.
'Let me read it,' Ian said, pushing his chair over beside hers.
She blocked his line of sight. 'Not a chance.'
'Ah, come on.'
'No, go away.'
'Then at least give me an ETA.'
'A what?'
'Estimated Time of Arrival,' Ian explained.
'Three weeks tops,' she said confidently.
'Even with her dodgy wrist?'
Sylvie frowned. 'I think so. Though it would help if you found someone to look after her.'
'It's a sad state of affairs, isn't it? All that money and yet there's no one she can call on to help.'
Sylvie looked at him to see if he was being sarcastic, but he seemed sincere. She patted his hand and smiled.
'Goodness, you're a right little ray of sunshine today, aren't you?'
Ed went to the supermarket, leaving Dana in her office surrounded by everything she might need. As soon as she'd put down the phone to Ian, she called Judy.
'You poor thing,' her friend cried when Dana filled her in on the latest drama. 'How on earth are you going to manage? I wish I could come and stay, Dana, but I'd have to bring the girls with me and then you'd get no work done at all.'
'Don't be silly, Judy. You've got your hands more than full already.'
'You could come here,' Judy suggested. 'The spare room isn't very big but—'
'You're a sweetheart. But you know there's no way I'd set foot in Wexford again. Which brings me to my other bit of news: Ed is here.'
'Ed? Your brother Ed?'
Dana smiled at Judy's astonishment. 'I know, I can't believe it either. It appears that Gus called him and said he was worried about me.'
'Well, well, well. That's interesting, isn't it?'
'Is it?'
'Yes. It shows that Gus must still care about you.'
'Or he's feeling guilty. Or worse — sorry for me.'
'No, I think it's a very good sign.' Judy was determinedly optimistic. 'But tell me all about Ed.'
Dana sighed. 'He hasn't changed much. Although, no, that's not true. He's more confident, more sure of himself than he used to be. Still, he should be. He's forty now, a middle-aged man.'
'Have you talked?'
Dana gave a short laugh. 'We've squabbled. Or rather, I have. He just nods and listens and tries to tell me that he did what he did for my mother and me. I wish he'd just leave, Judy, I don't want him here.'
'You mean he's staying with you?'
'Yes, he insisted. But as soon as I can find someone to help, I'm throwing him out.'
'Don't be too hasty, Dana,' Judy cautioned. 'I know it must be hard having him there. But surely it's better than having a stranger in your home.'
'He is a stranger!'
'But this could be fate. Maybe it's time you confronted him. Surely a part of you must want to know why he behaved the way he did?'
'I've already tried asking, but he's not exactly forth-coming.'
'Keep asking,' Judy urged. 'He's your brother, Dana, and you two used to be so close. I'm sure he still loves you. He came as soon as Gus called, didn't he? Why don't you give it a few days? It can't hurt.'
Dana sighed. 'I'm not so sure of that.'
'Try it. If it gets too tough, call me and I'll come and boot him out personally.'
Dana laughed. 'Oh, Judy, what would I do without you? I wish you lived around the corner. Then you could pop in and out for a coffee all the time.'
'Sort out your problems with your brother. Then maybe you can come and live around the corner from me,' Judy replied.
'I doubt it.'
'Stranger things have happened.'
Dana moved the chicken around her plate like a reluctant toddler.
'Try some, it's quite good,' Ed said cheerfully, clearing his plate at an alarming rate.
'I didn't know you could cook,' she said. There were a lot of things she didn't know about her brother. He was, in essence, a complete stranger now. She felt bereft at the thought.
'I used to work in a restaurant,' he told her. 'It was a basic sort of place but the chef did a great curry. This is his recipe.'
'You said you were a photographer,' Dana said suspiciously.
'I am. But I did a lot of dif
ferent jobs before that. When I first left home I went to work in a supermarket in Cork city.'
'We thought you'd left the country/ she murmured. She didn't know why she and her mother had thought that. He hadn't told them where he was going.
'Peter, my best friend, had just emigrated to Canada. Mum probably assumed that I'd gone after him. But I had no real wish to travel; just to get away.'
She hopped on him immediately. 'So you admit it — you did do it for you and not for us.'
He put down his fork and looked at her. 'I did it for all of us, Dana. We were all miserable. Especially Mum. I knew if I left, things could only get better. And I was right, wasn't I?'
'You could have stayed in touch,' she retorted, pushing the curry aside and reaching for her glass. 'You didn't have to disappear into thin air.'
'Maybe that was a mistake,' he admitted. 'But I thought if Father knew that you or Mum were in touch with me, he'd take it out on you.'
Dana sat in silence for a moment while she digested this. He had a point. Hadn't she had similar thoughts when she left home?
He reached out to take her good hand. 'Dana, I was little more than a child myself when I left, only seventeen. I thought I was doing the right thing, please believe that.'
She studied him closely. He seemed to mean what he said but that didn't help. 'What I can't handle is what you did when Mum died.'
He looked at her. 'What do you mean?'
'You forgave him, Ed,' Dana cried. 'You behaved as if none of it had happened. After everything he'd done to us — to you — you forgave him.' She clicked her fingers. 'Just like that.'
'It wasn't like that.'
'Then what was it like?'
He grabbed the empty bottle and stood up. 'I think we need some more of this.'
'Ed—' Dana started, but he was already out of the room and walking quickly towards the kitchen.
He was gone a long time. While she waited, Dana gazed out at the sodden, floodlit garden. Even with rain lashing down on it, it still looked pretty. She had a feeling that she was destined to spend the rest of her days like this. Staring into space, asking questions that no one seemed able to answer. She would have to get a cat. Then people could talk about the little old eccentric lady who lived alone and never left the house. Would it be so bad? she wondered. Did she really care any more?
Between The Sheets Page 22