by Anna Jacobs
She nodded.
‘Tell me.’
It all tumbled out and by the time she’d finished, she was crying into his handkerchief and he’d moved off his scooter to sit next to her. His arm felt so comforting round her shoulders. It was as if she’d known him for years.
‘Why don’t you come back to my place and have a glass of wine?’
‘Are you allowed—’ She broke off, realizing it wasn’t her business.
He grinned. ‘Who’s to stop me having a drink? I do what I want these days and what I’d really like at this moment is to share a bottle with you and take that hunted look off your face.’
‘I’d love to.’
She was so terrified of meeting Sebastian on the way back that she insisted on waiting behind the street trees till Lou said the way was clear over the next stretch. The ridiculousness of this made him smile and before she knew it, she was smiling, too. But she still took care not to bump into her brother.
By the time they got back to Lou’s place they were both breathless with laughter, exaggerating the need for caution and making passers-by stare at them. That foolish fun didn’t look to have done him any harm. In fact, he had more colour in his cheeks now.
They took the lift up to his flat. As he’d said, the building echoed. Someone had got the acoustics very wrong.
He parked his scooter in an alcove in his private hall, plugging it in to recharge, and made his way slowly towards the kitchen, walking as if each step was an effort. ‘White or red?’
‘White, please.’
‘Good. That’s what I like too.’ He poured two generous glasses of wine and held one out to her. ‘Potato crisps?’
‘Why not?’
‘I’ve given up eating healthily. I love salt and vinegar crisps.’
‘They’re my favourites too.’
He tipped a huge packet into a bowl and let her carry it and the wine across to the low table, while he followed her slowly and jerkily. Sitting down, he leaned forward to clink his glass against hers. ‘To hell with bossy relatives!’
‘To hell with them all!’
It wasn’t till they’d broached their second bottle that he asked, ‘What are you going to do, Miranda?’
The words came out slightly blurred, because she didn’t usually go beyond one or two glasses. ‘I haven’t the faintest idea. I wish I had.’
He opened his mouth, hesitated, then said, ‘I’ve got an idea. Only you might not like it.’
‘Try me.’
‘I know you’ve probably had your fill of playing Flo Nightingale, but how about helping me slay my current dragon, by which I mean my damned niece?’
‘Why is she a dragon?’
‘She’s threatening all sorts of things for later, like putting me into a hospice. I won’t do that, Miranda, not under any circumstances. I have my own plans in place for the end. She’s keeping an eye on me, not because we get on well, but because she’s my only close relative now and she wants to make sure she inherits.’
‘And will she? Inherit, I mean.’
‘I’ll leave her something because she really has helped me, I’ll grant her that. Only . . . I’d like to fly a bit before the wax melts and I drop down to earth again.’
‘Icarus.’ Only it came out ‘Icarush’, which made her giggle. ‘Oh dear, I’m tiddly.’
‘Do you good.’
She took another slurp of the crisp, expensive wine, then realized he’d not finished explaining. ‘How can I help you slay your dragon?’
‘Come and live with me. Help me find a house I can move into quickly – and move into it with me. I don’t need you to care for me physically. As I said before, I have a carer come in daily and I’ll get one full-time when I have somewhere to put him.’
She frowned, trying to work this out. ‘Why do you need me then?’
‘Because . . . I can hire as much help as I like, but I want some congenial company in my final months. And you’re fun to be with, easy to talk to, well educated.’
She blinked at him, wondering if she’d heard correctly. ‘Am I?’
‘Yes. And don’t let anyone tell you differently.’
‘You want me to move in with you?’
‘Yes. And then I want us to have as much fun as possible. You’ll help me do that, won’t you? My niece won’t. She’d like to clear all the wine out of my fridge and fill it with medicines and bland, nourishing food.’
‘But . . .’ Only Miranda couldn’t think of any reason not to do as he was suggesting, because she did like him. And surely anything would be better than staying under Sebastian’s control? Anything.
Lou lifted his glass and winked at her. ‘Go on. Take a risk. I’ll pay you a decent wage. You can save it and then you’ll have some money behind you that Sebastian won’t be able to touch. And getting away from him will give you some thinking time about the rest of your life.’
‘All right. I’ll do it.’ She couldn’t believe she’d said that without thinking it over and opened her mouth to say it was a mistake. But the retraction wouldn’t come out because she didn’t want to reject such a good offer. Instead she found herself asking, ‘What about my flat?’
‘Take it, say thank you very much and rent it out. Save the money you get for that as well.’
‘Good idea!’ She reached forward to clink glasses with him, realized hers was empty and when he would have filled it, she shook her head. ‘Not till we’ve had something to eat.’
‘We’ll send out for a pizza.’
‘Great. I’ve not had pizza for years. Father didn’t like them, said they were vulgar and smelled horrible.’
‘What do you want on it?’
‘Everything.’
The pizza delivery guy arrived promptly. He obviously knew Lou, who gave him a generous tip and teased him about his girlfriend.
Miranda carried the box back to the sitting area and found two plates. ‘Father never gave tips. He said it was un-Australian.’ The word came out mangled, but Lou just laughed at her.
‘I like to tip people. I can’t take my money with me when I go, after all, can I?’
‘As long as you’ve got enough left to see you out comfortably.’
‘I have. I’m quite good with money.’
By the time they’d finished eating they were laughing again. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so much.
Miranda woke with a thumping headache. It took her a few minutes to work out that she was in Lou’s spare bedroom. Good heavens! She’d got so drunk she couldn’t even remember going to bed.
Well, so what? It was worth a hangover because she’d enjoyed every mouthful of wine and pizza, every moment of shared laughter.
She heard the sound of movement and got up, putting on the man’s dressing gown she found draped over a chair.
Lou was in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil. He turned round and smiled. ‘You look a bit pale.’
‘My head’s thumping. I’m not used to drinking so much.’
‘I hope you’re not regretting it.’
‘Certainly not. I can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed an evening so much.’
‘Bacon and eggs for breakfast? They’re good for hangovers.’
‘Shall I cook them?’ She’d noticed how stiffly he was moving this morning and wasn’t surprised when he nodded. ‘Do you want one egg or two?’
‘Two please, sunny side up. Are you having some?’
She shuddered.
As she cleared away his plate afterwards, he asked in a more serious tone than usual, ‘Did you mean it?’
She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘About coming to live with you? Yes, I did. Unless you’ve changed your mind.’
‘Oh, no.’ He closed his eyes for a moment, relief on his face.
When he opened his eyes again, he said, ‘Then we need to plan things carefully, Miranda my pet. We both have to escape from marauding relatives.’
She’d thought she was good at planning till sh
e sat down with Lou and watched him make lists, thinking of details that wouldn’t even have occurred to her at this stage.
After they’d finished, he said, ‘These first lists will get us started. Now, there’s a photocopier in my office. Would you mind making your own copies? I will confess that I’m a bit tired this morning and the pain medication hasn’t kicked in fully yet.’
When she came back he was dozing, so she sat down and waited for him to wake up. It had occurred to her while she was using his photocopier that she didn’t need to hurry home. There were only Sebastian and Regina to worry about her and she doubted they would even notice.
Lou jerked awake a quarter of an hour later, stared at her, then smiled slowly. ‘I’m glad you’re still here.’
‘Are you all right?’ she asked.
‘Yes. I always did take power naps and wake up refreshed. You look so much happier this morning.’
‘I am. Will you be all right if I leave now? I want to go home and change into some clean clothes, something less funereal.’
‘I’ll be fine. You have my phone number. Give me a ring and let me know how it goes.’
‘I’d prefer to walk round and tell you myself.’
‘I’d prefer that, too.’
She set off, feeling slightly more confident because she had a plan to follow, a plan that gave her freedom from her family.
Her confidence began to ebb as soon as she saw Regina’s hired car in the drive, blocking in her own vehicle.
What was her sister doing there? She was supposed to be staying with Sebastian.
Three
Regina was pacing up and down the veranda, seriously worried now about her sister. Then she saw Minnie coming along the street and stood up, staring in shock. Her sister’s clothes were crumpled, her hair was untidy, she looked . . . as if she’d had a hard night.
Anxiety made her demand, ‘Where the hell have you been?’
Minnie flinched. ‘Staying with a friend. I didn’t want to come back here last night. I was too upset.’
Regina gave her a quick hug. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like Sebastian, but I’ve been worried sick about you.’
‘I’m a grown woman. I can look after myself. I just needed to get away from our dear brother.’
‘I don’t blame you. He’s a bit heavy-handed, isn’t he? Gets more like Father every time I see him. I don’t know how Dorothy puts up with his autocratic ways. She gets very tense when she’s serving a meal. He has to have everything just so. As for not wanting to come back here, I don’t know why you and Father stayed here so long. It’s not as if he couldn’t have afforded a more modern house. This one feels as if it’s about to collapse any minute from extreme old age. I’ve never been in a place that creaks so much. I had a terrible night, kept jerking awake thinking someone had broken in.’
‘You spent the night here? Why?’
Regina rolled her eyes at the ceiling. ‘Why do you think? We were worried about you. I thought you’d come back here so I waited for you.’
‘Oh. Well, that was very kind, but there was no need.’
Sebastian had said the same thing. He was a callous sod but Minnie was too soft for her own good and Regina felt protective towards her. ‘You could have let us know where you were. I was afraid you might do something silly or that you’d been hurt. I wanted to call in the police, only Sebastian got furious at the mere idea, said it’d be too embarrassing for a man in his position.’
‘We can’t have him embarrassed, can we? And I’d never kill myself, if that’s what you mean.’ She pushed past Regina and went towards her bedroom. ‘I need a shower.’
‘Doesn’t your friend have a bathroom?’
‘Of course he does, but I waited till I could get a change of clothes.’
‘He!’ Regina stared at her. Minnie with a boyfriend! ‘How long has this been going on?’
The bedroom door shut in her face and she hesitated, then went to put the kettle on. You could hardly chase after an older sister as if she were a naughty child. Minnie was upset, that’s what all this was about. Regina would have been upset about that will, too. She was younger than Minnie, yet had been left money to do with as she pleased. Why shouldn’t Minnie have been treated the same?
When Regina had actually said that to Sebastian, he’d insisted Minnie was too impractical, but she’d guessed that he really wanted to keep the money in the trust for the next generation. Which meant his two grown-up children, who now lived in Sydney and New York. Nikki would get some money too – eventually. Thinking of her daughter upset Regina all over again. How stupid and unnecessary to get yourself pregnant in this day and age!
When Minnie came into the kitchen, Regina waved one hand at the kettle. ‘It’s just boiled.’
‘Thank you.’ The words were stiff. Keeping her back turned, Minnie began to make a cup of tea.
‘For what it’s worth, I don’t think it’s fair.’
‘What isn’t?’
‘How your money was left.’
She saw tears well in Minnie’s eyes, but her sister brushed them away quickly, so she didn’t comment.
‘Are you hungry?’
Regina stood up and joined her. ‘How about I do us an omlette and salad?’
Minnie shrugged.
‘Sit down and let me wait on you. It’s about time. You were wonderful with Father and he wasn’t always kind to you. I’ve always been grateful you were there and I didn’t have to get involved, though I’d never have lived with him.’ She shuddered at the mere thought of what that must have been like. ‘I’d have wound up killing him.’
Her sister looked so surprised at this. Regina said gently, ‘Sebastian and I could have helped more, though, given you more time off.’
‘You had a daughter to raise. That was much more worthwhile than looking after a selfish old man. And Sebastian isn’t the sort to look after anyone. Dorothy waits on him hand and foot. He never had much to do with his own children, except to send them to expensive private schools and boast about it.’ She began to stir her tea, keeping her eyes down.
‘And even though he didn’t do much to help, Sebastian got half of what’s left because he’s the son and heir, while you and I have only got a quarter each. I’m a bit peeved about that, in this day and age.’
‘It was Father’s money, to dispose of as he wished. Let’s not talk about it any more. I haven’t got my head around it all yet. If I get a steady income from the trust, maybe things won’t be too bad. How’s Nikki going on at school? She’s going to university next year, isn’t she? What’s she going to study?’
Regina hadn’t said a word to her brother, but found herself confiding in Minnie.
‘So I told her to get an abortion. It’ll ruin her whole life if she has a baby now; stop her getting qualifications. She can always have children later.’
‘I read somewhere that having an abortion can make it harder to get pregnant again. What does she want to do about it?’
‘She doesn’t know what she wants.’
‘Who’s the father?’
‘A guy she’s been going out with for a year: Tim. He’s the same age as she is. Nice lad – well, I thought he was nice, now I’m not so sure. I saw him in town and told him what I thought of him for deserting her, only it turned out he didn’t know about the baby and she had dumped him.’
‘She’ll be in shock still, not sure what to do. It takes time to get used to the idea that you’re having a baby everyone will disapprove of.’
Regina stared at her in dismay. ‘I’m sorry. I’d completely forgotten.’
‘What?’
‘That you’d had a baby.’
‘I hadn’t forgotten. I wonder every day what my daughter’s doing and if she’s happy.’
Regina could have kicked herself for bringing that desperately sad look to her sister’s face. ‘Couldn’t you try to trace her?’
‘Maybe one day, when I’ve sorted out my life.’ Minnie looked at her unce
rtainly. ‘Don’t push Nikki into doing something she doesn’t want to. I’ve always regretted my baby being adopted.’
‘Why did you agree to it, then?’
‘I don’t remember agreeing. They kept me heavily sedated after the birth. Father could have afforded to help me a bit, just till I got my degree, but he wouldn’t. And then he . . . sent me into that place.’
‘Because you needed professional help.’
‘Did I? Or was it a convenient way to get rid of me while he dealt with the baby?’
Regina stared at her in horror. ‘You can’t mean that!’
‘Can’t I? I wasn’t mad, though you’d think I was from the way I was treated. Post-natal depression, they call it today, and treat it as a temporary illness. I’d not have brought this up, only . . .’ She laid one hand on her sister’s arm. ‘Don’t force Nikki to get rid of her baby if she doesn’t want to. She’ll regret it every minute of her life if you do.’
There was silence for a few moments, then Regina said, ‘Well, I still think she should have an abortion. It’s very quick and easy now, and she’s only six weeks along. But I can’t actually force her, can I?’
‘I hope not.’
‘And I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.’
Miranda smiled. ‘I can see that.’
When her sister went to her bedroom to tidy her hair, Regina began to clear up the kitchen. But she kept stopping to wipe her eyes. She hadn’t realized exactly what her father had done – and she couldn’t have stopped him if she had known.
Surely her sister was mistaken? Surely it had been necessary to have her committed to a mental hospital?
Lou spent the morning thinking hard. He’d really enjoyed the evening spent with Miranda and now he was wondering if he’d done right by her in suggesting she live with him. She’d just spent years nursing her father, after all.
He grimaced. She wouldn’t have years looking after him, only a few months, the cancer specialist said. The heart specialist said you could never tell, and he could live for years without doing anything about his condition, so the cancer would probably kill him first. But what would Minnie get for looking after him? Temporary asylum from her family then out on the streets again? Not good enough. He had to make it truly worth her while.