‘At least you’re back on speaking terms,’ Maxine consoled her. ‘That’s one family feud nipped in the bud. Speaking of which,’ she added, ‘how are things going with you and Alan?’
Speaking of conspiracies, thought Janey dryly .. . Aloud she said, ‘Oh, fine.’
The will reading lasted less than fifteen minutes. Simply and concisely, Oliver had divided his amassed fortune into three equal parts, making Thea, Josh and Ella instant millionaires. Thea, by this time beyond tears, called Oliver a bastard and said she didn’t want his stinking, lousy, rotten money. Josh and Ella, entranced both by her thrilling choice of words and by the prospect of such unimaginable riches, were less than overjoyed to learn that their own inheritances were to be held in trust until they were twenty-one.
‘Bugger,’ pouted Ella, because if Thea could swear, so could she. ‘Twenty-one’s ancient.
I’ll be too old to ride a horse by then.’
‘Don’t worry.’ Maxine, fastening her into her emerald-green coat, winked at Janey. ‘You’ll be able to treat yourself to a solid gold Zimmer frame.’
‘Dad didn’t get any money.’ Josh looked thoughtful. ‘Does that mean we’re richer than he is now?’
Guy, darkly handsome and decidedly impatient, was already waiting at the front door to take them home. Janey, pretending she hadn’t noticed him there, bent down and gave Josh a hug.
‘Probably. Just think, you may have to start giving him pocket money in future.’
‘But only if he makes his bed and washes the car.’ Josh beamed at her, highly diverted by the prospect. Then, sounding startled, he said, ‘Oh!’
His gaze had dropped. He was no longer looking at her face.
Janey, smiling, said, ‘What?’
‘Um ... nothing.’ Josh’s long-lashed blue eyes clouded with confusion as natural good manners vied with surprise. Tentatively, he reached out and touched the sleeve of her ivory silk shirt. ‘You’re wearing Mummy’s bracelet, that’s all.’
‘Janey!’ wailed Ella, barging past and almost knocking him down. ‘Maxine won’t tell me.
What’s a Zimmer frame?’
Chapter 53
It was ten o’clock in the evening by the time Janey let herself into the flat. Alan, for once not out at the surf club, had fallen asleep in front of the television with the gas fire blazing and both living-room windows wide open. Three empty lager cans and the remains of an Indian takeaway littered the coffee table upon which his feet were propped.
In the dim light, his enviable cheekbones seemed more pronounced and the corners of his mouth appeared to curve upwards as if in secret amusement. His blond hair gleamed and his eyelashes, not blond but dark, cast twin shadows upon his cheeks. Watching him sleep, Janey wondered how anyone could look so beautiful – almost angelic – and still snore like a pig.
He woke with a start when she switched off the television.
‘Oh. You’re back.’ Rubbing his eyes, he pushed himself into a sitting position. As Janey bent to pick up the empty cans, he added, ‘Leave that, I’ll do it in a minute. So how did it go this afternoon?’
‘Like a funeral.’ Since Alan’s idea of ‘in a minute’ was more like next weekend, she continued piling the empty curry and rice containers on to his dirty plate. In the kitchen the sink was crammed with more unwashed plates and coffee mugs, and the sugar bowl had been tipped over, spilling its contents on to the floor. Sugar crunched beneath her feet as she chucked the lager cans one by one into the bin.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll clear it up,’ Alan called from the living room. ‘How’s Thea, OK now?’
‘Oh, absolutely fine.’ Janey wondered if he had any idea what a stupid question that was.
‘She’s almost forgotten what he even looked like.’
Alan appeared in the doorway, looking shamefaced. ‘Hey, no need to snap. You know what I meant.’
‘She’ll get through it,’ said Janey briefly.
‘Come on, sit down and relax. You look exhausted.’ He took her hand and the bracelet –
Veronique’s bracelet, thought Janey – brushed against his wrist. When Alan had remarked upon it last week she’d simply told him that it had been a birthday present and he had assumed she’d had it for years.
‘So what’s the news?’ he asked, when Janey had shrugged off her coat. ‘You said the solicitor was coming down to read the will; that’s unusual nowadays isn’t it? Did Thea get anything?’
She looked at him. ‘Any what?’
‘Sweetheart, you aren’t even listening to me!’ Smiling and shaking his head in gentle reproach, Alan opened another can of lager. ‘I asked you if he left Thea anything in the will.
After all, from what you told me he seemed pretty smitten. The least he could do was show his appreciation with a nice little legacy.’
‘He did,’ said Janey tonelessly.
‘Well, how much?’
‘About one and a half.’
‘Thousand?’ Alan. looked faintly disappointed. ‘That’s not much. I thought he was supposed to be loaded.’
‘One and a half million,’ said Janey.
After the endless, churning turmoil of the past weeks, finally making the decision was easy.
Having listened to Alan for over an hour now, Janey knew it couldn’t go on any longer. Whilst he had been crowing over her mother’s inheritance and excitedly planning how they should spend the money Thea was bound to hand out to Maxine and herself, she had reached the point of no return. His shameless assumptions both appalled and sickened her. His greed revolted her.
