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

her. Jonathan’s death hadn’t changed that. Even their hugs of sympathy immediately after his death had contained a hesitation, a stiffness. It was as if the three of them had made a pact to hold themselves apart from her. It was an effective snub from a family that was naturally very tactile. Hugs, kisses, back-slaps, they were forever touching each other, but not her. Even the children seemed to have picked up on it. They always wriggled away from her attempts at physical affection. Yet here she was comforting an unconscious Noah. His breathing deepened and he began to snore. She took the blanket from the back of the armchair and draped it over him. She would leave him to sleep.

It was as she turned to walk away that she saw the box. It was lying in two pieces on the floor against the skirting board. She picked up the base and the lid. One of the hinges was bent and the lid had a deep crack in it – damage caused by being thrown and hitting the wall? She ran her fingers across the broken pieces, feeling a mix of dismay and disbelief. Was nothing sacred? Holding the remnants of the box in her hands, she returned to Noah’s bedside, not caring to make her footsteps light this time. She looked down at him wallowing in his self-pity, insensible to the offence he had caused – was causing – every time he opened his mouth and made one of his wisecrack comments. She flung the pieces of box at his head. They hit him and bounced onto the floor.

He stirred, muttered, flapped a hand across his face, but didn’t wake.

She turned away, her mind made up.

They had forfeited the right to know anything!

Let them stew in their speculation and spite.

On her way out Megan made sure to slam the door shut as loudly as she could.

Chapter 41

ELOISE REWARDED herself for surviving the previous night’s festivities with a lie-in. Reclining in her hotel bed, on a mountain of pillows, all she could see was the slate-grey sky and the occasional smudge of a high-flying seagull. Her view was soothing in a blank, boring kind of way.

It had taken time to get used to, but Eloise now enjoyed sleeping alone. She revelled in having the full expanse of a double bed to herself, apart from the occasions when she chose to share it, of course. So many things that had seemed difficult, or nigh-on impossible, in the immediate aftermath of her marriage breakup now seemed normal. Solus decision-making, choosing what to do with her own, hard-earnt money, risk-taking, developing new friendships, finding new lovers, DIY! – all of it had proved possible, much of it enjoyable. Her new life was both fuller and more unpredictable than her old one. She liked it that way.

After staring at the sky for twenty minutes, Eloise got up and showered. She dressed casually, but with care. Appearances mattered this weekend, at least to Eloise. Small advantages, and all that. In the hotel dining-room she perused the breakfast buffet. It was standard fare, but she found she was hungry. She’d barely touched Megan’s tasty home-cooked meal the previous evening – other people’s stress not being conducive to relaxed dining. As Eloise was spooning fruit into a bowl, her phone buzzed. She deliberated over adding granola. Back at her table, she poured herself a coffee and took a couple of sips before checking which of her children was pursuing her. To her surprise, it was Liv, asking to have a word when she got up to the house. Eloise wondered what that would be about. It felt like a summons from the headmaster. As she was finishing her grapefruit segments, another message arrived. Liv again, informing her that they were about to reconvene and encouraging Eloise to join them, when she was ready. As a hint to ‘hurry up’, it was only very thinly veiled. She poured herself another coffee and put in an order for some scrambled eggs.

She was in no rush.

An hour and a half later Eloise let herself into the house. She stood in the middle of the hall. Noah’s voice could be heard through the dining-room door. Someone was hoovering in Jonathan’s room. Eloise paused, considering her options.

Her children? Or her adversary?

She chose Megan.

She knocked, wasn’t heard, entered anyway. ‘Hello.’

Megan bent down and clicked off the vacuum cleaner. The room was in a state of disarray, the bed stripped and pulled away from the wall. A pile of what looked suspiciously like Jonathan’s clothes was heaped on the floor near the door. There was also, Eloise noticed, an empty Scotch bottle on the side-table, one glass. Megan or Jonathan’s desperate solace? Next to the bottle was what looked like a broken jewellery box. It was interesting how small things could detonate such huge feelings.

The room looked nothing like it had in her day when it had been Jonathan’s study, his inner sanctum – as much a no-go area for her as for the kids. The bookcases and the hundreds of books were still there, but they now looked like props rather than the tools of a real profession. The desk was clear, reduced to the role of a table for a vast array of medicines. Eloise couldn’t imagine what Jonathan must have been like without his work. His career and the status it afforded him had always been integral to his sense of himself.

There was a long pause.

‘They’re in the dining-room.’ No ‘hello’. Megan obviously wanted her gone.

‘So I gather.’ Megan wasn’t the only one who could ignore nonverbal cues. Eloise scanned the room again and was shaken to think that Jonathan’s life had shrunk so small. Ending your days trapped inside four walls. It was too awful to contemplate.

Megan hadn’t shifted her position or her facial expression. Chloe was right, there was something ‘off’ about her. There seemed to be a kind of void inside Megan where emotion should surely