The Legacy by Caroline Bond (e book reader for pc .TXT) 📕

okay.’ But it wasn’t – Chloe could feel the panic inside her, expanding. ‘Megan is sitting with him while we wait for the doctor. I have rung, but it may be a while. You won’t be in there on your own.’

But Chloe knew she couldn’t.

Lisa put whatever she was holding down on the side and came over to Chloe. Very gently she placed her hand on Chloe’s upper arm. ‘There’s nothing to be frightened of. It’s just a body.’ She studied Chloe’s face, reading her distress in it. ‘But there’s no rule that says you have to “go and say goodbye”, either. Not if you don’t want to. It’s an odd idea, when you think about it. After all, they’ve already gone. You do what you think is right for you. I was going to make us a cuppa. Do you want to come into the kitchen instead?’ She picked up her stuff and walked away.

Chloe looked at the open door to her father’s room, took a deep breath and followed Lisa.

She had been pathetic. She’d taken her sweet tea up to her room and crawled like a scared child back into bed, where she’d waited, feeling abandoned and bereft, aching to call her mother, but failing to do even that. At some point the doorbell had rung and there was a male voice in the hall, presumably the doctor. She listened to Lisa welcoming him, in her chirpy everyday pitch, taking responsibility for it all, while Chloe herself sat hunched up in bed, barely able to breathe and totally unable to go downstairs and help. After what felt like for ever, there were more voices – the undertakers?

Without so much as the whisper of footsteps, Megan was suddenly in Chloe’s room again. ‘They are about to take him away, Chloe. Are you sure you don’t want to come down and say goodbye?’ Chloe dumbly shook her head. Megan didn’t push her. ‘Okay. I thought I’d better check.’ She turned and left.

A little while later, despite being huddled underneath her duvet, Chloe heard the muffled sounds of something heavy being removed from the house and knew it was her father’s body.

And ever since the memory of that night had plagued her.

Which was why, when she’d come into the hall earlier in the evening and heard a voice saying his name on the other side of the door, she’d freaked out. Of course it had been Megan speaking. Who else could it have been? No one else went into her father’s room. But it had shaken her badly.

1.25 a.m.

Night hours passed achingly slowly.

Chloe started scrolling through her messages, seeking comfort in the glow of her newsfeed. There was a world outside the house: people getting on with their lives, people having nights out, getting happily drunk with their friends or their lovers, people not trapped in a house full of the ghosts of regret. She longed for a reality that was as normal and thoughtless as that. After a while the images of everyone else’s ‘best lives’ began to depress her. There were so many happy families and loved-up couples, so much concerted enjoyment. She switched to her messages. Nothing new. Out of desperation, she caved in and decided to call her mother, knowing full well it would go straight to voicemail. Even as she scrolled through for her number, Chloe imagined Liv’s judgement on, and Noah’s mockery of, her pathetic dependency. The baby of the family, still acting like a baby. The thought made her flush with embarrassment, but it didn’t stop her leaving a message. Perhaps the timing of the voicemail might help to summon the maternal in Eloise. Perhaps?

Options exhausted, Chloe had no choice but to lie down and wait for morning.

Chapter 16

THEY’D AGREED to meet at 10 a.m. Angus had taken the kids to the park to give them some peace, free from the interruptions of pee requests and the half-hourly demands for snacks. Before the boys left, Liv supervised the allocation of hats and gloves, bodywarmers and scarves. How many of the items would make it back to the house was in the lap of the gods. The boys were like snakes, endlessly shedding their skins or, in their case, their sensible warm accessories. Liv watched them head off through the lounge window, envying Angus. With them gone, the house was quieter, sadder.

She waited until they were out of sight before reluctantly turning back to the task in hand. Someone – Megan? – had thoughtfully, or perhaps pointedly (given how much booze some of them had got through the previous night), put a jug of water and some glasses on the dining-room table. Liv took a sip of her green tea. Chloe sat at the table with her third coffee of the day. Noah’s beverage of choice was not known, as he was yet to make an appearance. He was so predictable.

‘Shall I go and get him?’ Chloe asked at ten past.

‘Yes.’ Liv heard the crackle of irritation in her own voice. It was not a good start.

Chloe went out into the hall and shouted up the stairs, ‘Noah! Get your arse down here. Now!’

Liv winced and a wave of queasiness rippled through her. She put her tea down and poured herself a glass of water. It was cold. Sipping small, chilly mouthfuls helped to settle her stomach a little.

Noah eventually appeared, looking sheepish, scruffy and empty-handed. Not so much as a notepad or a pen. He was about to head over to the window, but on seeing Liv’s face he thought better of it. He pulled out a chair and deposited himself at the table. They were finally ready – as ready as they’d ever be – to discuss what they were going to do in response to their father’s bizarre will. Noah rasped his hand across his stubbly chin. ‘It’s like a scene out of The Sopranos. I’m not in any immediate danger, am I?’

‘Only if you carry on in that vein,’