Donna eased herself in behind the table, placing her drink carefully on a drip mat and waited.
‘Hey, sis!’ He spotted her as soon as he stepped through the door. Donna wondered if he’d seen her watching him and that had been a deciding factor in him actually entering the pub.
‘Don’t call me that,’ she snapped, irrationally annoyed with him. She hated the epithet, and he knew it, but she didn’t normally allow him the satisfaction of seeing that he’d irritated her.
‘Okay, chill.’ He held his hands out, palms up and glanced down at the table. Was that relief in his eyes when he spotted her full glass? ‘You don’t want a drink, then?’
Donna shook her head and watched as he crossed to the bar, weaving his way around the empty tables with the grace of a dancer. He was an attractive man, even as a sibling Donna could see why women liked her brother. Tall, slim with a full head of dark hair cut in a casual style that probably needed more gel in the morning than her own, he was an imposing figure. But none of the women her brother dated seemed to stick. There had been a Jackie or Judy a few years ago, Donna couldn’t remember the name, and it had seemed serious for a few months but then Andy told her that it had ‘fizzled out’. Since then Donna didn’t ask. It was easier.
‘So, how’s life at the chalk face?’ Andy asked, pulling out the chair opposite her and sitting down with a sigh.
Donna started to tell him about her form group and her plans for teaching the A-level specification, but she could see that he wasn’t really listening. His eyes were being drawn to the window and twice he turned round as the pub doors opened almost as if he were expecting somebody else to join them. Eventually she gave up and threw a menu across the table.
‘What’re you having? I’m going to get a burger.’
He flipped it open but, again, seemed to be struggling to focus.
‘Look, Andy, if you’ve got somewhere else to be…’
He looked up at her, his eyes serious. ‘I haven’t. I’m just not very hungry and I don’t think you will be when I tell you what’s been going on.’
Donna hadn’t known what to expect from her brother, but it hadn’t been this. He looked genuinely worried and she felt a thrill of fear as he continued.
‘I’m in a bit of trouble. Money trouble. As in, I don’t have any.’
She started to speak, to ask how that could be possible but he held up a hand, silencing her.
‘You’re going to hate me, but I need to be honest. I’m up to my eyes in debt to some dodgy people and I need your help. I can’t pay for mum’s care and the money from the house has run out.’
That made no sense.
‘How has it run out? I know the fees are high but there should be enough to last a couple more years at least. I thought you were keeping track of everything.’
‘I was… I am. But I’ve had to borrow money.’
‘Andy!’ This wasn’t right. They’d been brought up to despise debt and those who got themselves into it. Their parents had paid up front for everything they ever owned, except their house which had been paid off well within the usual twenty-five-year mortgage term.
‘So, you can’t pay for the care home?’
He couldn’t meet her eyes, looking over her shoulder at the window and then down at the table. Donna noticed that his hands were shaking.
‘Andy? How bad is it?’
Her brother took a deep breath. ‘I spent the money from the house – what was left of it – and I’ve had to borrow more.’
Donna was stunned. How could he have spent thousands of pounds? ‘How… what have you spent it on?’
Colour rose to his clean-shaven cheeks. He ran a finger round his collar and he was breathing heavily. ‘Oh, shit, Donna. This isn’t easy to admit. I’ve got a gambling problem. I’m getting help, though, counselling, and I go to a group.’ The words came out in a rush, tumbling over each other as he tried desperately to reassure her. ‘But I’m in so much debt. I didn’t know what to do so I borrowed some money from the care home account and then borrowed more to try to win it back. When that was gone, I went… elsewhere.’
Donna felt sick. How had he hidden this from her? ‘Elsewhere?’
‘A friend of a friend. It’s not like I could go to the bank, is it?’ His sudden sarcasm made Donna want to punch him, hard. ‘Look, it’s an addiction. I’ve got a problem but I’m trying to sort things out.’
His excuses and whining tone were beyond pathetic. ‘Andy. Who did you borrow money from?’
As her brother opened his mouth to answer he was interrupted.
‘That would be me.’ A man appeared from behind the wooden partition separating the alcove that Donna and Andy shared from the rest of the room. Mid to late forties with thick greying hair and an unseasonal tan, the man smiled at Donna and held out a hand with perfectly manicured nails. ‘Gerry Montrose.’
Donna stared at him completely baffled. He looked like a wealthy businessman in his dark navy suit and pale blue shirt, open at the collar. Now she understood why her brother had seemed reluctant to enter the pub – he must have recognised Montrose’s car in the car park. But how could Montrose have known that they were meeting at the Dog and Duck? Unless Andy had told him.
‘You must be the sister.’
