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

was minor. It was certainly not something anyone else would notice, unless they were looking for it. Crucially, Angus hadn’t registered anything – not yet. The thought saddened her. He obviously took her body so much for granted that he didn’t actually see it any more. They still made love, every now and again, in the slivers of time that existed between life and kids and work, in the dark; but they no longer pawed over each other, no longer knew each other’s flesh intimately, tenderly, precisely. It was unsurprising. It was what happened to most couples, she imagined. She gathered up a handful of bubbles and draped them across her midriff like a cloth. Besides, Angus not noticing the changes in her was what she needed. It bought her time.

Time to think.

Time to decide.

Because although there were very few outward physical signs as yet, she could feel the changes taking place deep inside her physiology. Cells were dividing and multiplying, an unstoppable process governed by a biological imperative that, as she knew only too well, was no respecter of personal choice or desire. And that mitosis was creating other appreciable side-effects, aside from the slight oedema. The fatigue was getting worse and the dizzy spells that occasionally struck her were becoming increasingly unpleasant, but most frustrating of all was the lack of clarity in her thinking. It was this weakness that was Liv’s real concern. Now was not the time to be fuzzy and wrong-headed – there was too much riding on her decisions, at home and at work. The unbalanced feeling that had so unsettled her when she’d been down by the sea with Noah returned. She closed her eyes and tried to practise what she so often preached to her patients at times of stress and physical upheaval. A slow, deep breath in, for the count of five, a slow breath out, for five. Inhaling from her stomach, focusing on her own steady breathing instead of the furore in her mind. In, out. In, out.

‘Oh, sorry!’

Liv sat up, sending a small tidal wave over the taps. Megan stood in the doorway, a stack of towels clutched to her chest.

‘I didn’t realise anyone was in here.’

Liv felt ridiculous, sitting in her stolen-bubbles bath, with her arms coyly covering her breasts, like she had been caught doing something illicit. She started defending herself. ‘I thought it was a good time to have a bath – before the evening rush.’

Megan then did something really weird. Instead of hastily retreating and leaving Liv in peace, she stood in the doorway, making conversation, as if the situation wasn’t totally awkward. And this from a woman who had spent the past twenty-four hours studiously avoiding even the simplest of verbal exchanges. ‘I can imagine you don’t normally get much time to yourself.’

Liv checked to see the bubbles were still providing adequate coverage. ‘No.’ Brevity – that might make her leave.

Megan shifted the towels slightly. ‘But Angus is good with the kids, isn’t he? He seems to enjoy spending time with them.’

‘Yes, he is.’ What the hell did she want? ‘But they are half his, after all!’

Megan studied Liv, as if trying to compute her comment, but she still didn’t move.

Liv had had enough. ‘Megan, if you don’t mind.’

Megan tilted her head slightly, like a pigeon. ‘No, of course not. I’ll leave you to finish your bath.’ But instead of retreating, she came into the bathroom. ‘I’ll just put these away.’ And to Liv’s consternation, she proceeded to cross over to the linen cupboard in the corner and start putting the towels away. It seemed to take an inordinately long time. ‘I’ve left those bank details you wanted in your room. Sorry it took me so long to dig them out.’

‘Thank you,’ Liv responded. Megan was such an odd person and she seemed to have grown odder in the wake of Jonathan’s death. Perhaps it was simply the impact of grief, but Liv had her suspicions that Megan’s weird, almost catatonic state might be medically as much as emotionally induced.

Was she ever going to leave?

Seemingly not, because after she’d put the last towel in the cupboard, Megan turned round. ‘I know how difficult this is for you, Liv. How uncomfortable. Even more so, now your mother is here. I suppose I should leave, let you sort it out as a family.’ Liv said nothing. ‘I have thought about it. Leaving. But I don’t know where else to be, at the moment. This is my home.’ She corrected herself, ‘Was my home. With Jonathan. I can’t leave it. Not yet. Not until he does.’

Liv was confused. ‘I understand,’ she said, though she didn’t, not fully. Or perhaps the more honest answer was that she didn’t want to understand Megan – didn’t have the requisite energy to. Besides, Noah had a point: why was she trying so hard to accommodate Megan’s emotions and rights along with everyone else’s? It was too much. Megan was nothing to Liv. She certainly wasn’t family. And the comment about Dad not having left yet, Liv didn’t know what to make of that. The queasiness rolled through her again. Most of all she just wanted Megan herself to leave – at least the bathroom, if not the house. To encourage her, Liv made Megan a promise that she alone could not guarantee to keep. ‘We’ll get something sorted tomorrow, Megan. I’m sure we will. It doesn’t have to be complicated.’ If only that was true. ‘Then we can all move on with our lives.’

Megan nodded, but it was a small, hesitant nod. At least she seemed to wake up enough to realise how inappropriate it was for them to be having this exchange in such circumstances. ‘Well. Yes. I’ll leave you to recharge.’

As soon as the door closed, Liv got out of the bath – what little tranquillity she’d been able to achieve now shattered. She quickly swaddled herself in one of Megan’s freshly laundered towels. As she bent down to