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

this new therapy, and that new drug, which he simply had to chase up his consultant about. Pointless! It was all pointless. He was dying!’

‘It wasn’t pointless.’ Liv heard the crack in her own voice. ‘It helped. I was trying to make life as comfortable as possible for him.’

‘He didn’t want you to be his doctor, Liv! He wanted you to be his daughter.’

‘How would you know? You were never here.’ Now they were getting into it. It was weirdly cathartic, letting go of so much unspoken resentment.

‘At least when I was here, we had a good time together.’

‘Oh, and that makes all the difference when you’re dying, does it? Having a jolly time!’

They had both somehow risen to their feet and were facing each other across the table. Noah swayed. ‘Do you know what, Liv? Yes. I think it did make a difference – more than all your nagging and bullying. Dad felt like you expected him to fight and somehow beat it. Do you know that? You added to the pressure. Made him feel like he was failing as his condition got worse.’

‘Did he say that to you?’ She hated to think that what Noah was saying might be true. That although her father had respected her, he had never really liked her. That he had, in truth, preferred his irresponsible son and his softer, altogether more agreeable younger daughter.

‘Not in so many words, but it’s true. That’s the way you make us all feel. Like we’re not good enough, that we’re not trying hard enough, that we’re not meeting your very high expectations. MND isn’t like that. It’s a fucking bastard of a disease. It gets you and it eats you up, and there’s not a sodding thing you can do about it!’ He was shaking and sweating, and Liv hated every word that was coming out of his mouth… because deep down she feared there was some truth in what he was shouting.

She finally let go. ‘I loved him,’ she screamed in her brother’s face.

‘Not as much as me,’ Noah roared back.

Chapter 44

MEGAN HEARD a gentle tap at the door. ‘May I come in?’ It was nice to have someone ask. She opened the door.

Lisa took in the chaos of Jonathan’s room at a glance, but made no comment. She stayed on the threshold. ‘I rang the bell, but no one heard. I let myself in. I hope that’s all right.’ Megan nodded. Lisa came into the room. ‘How’s it been?’

‘Not good.’

‘No, evidently not.’ They could both hear raised voices coming from the dining-room. Lisa closed the door on them. ‘Oh!’

Megan followed Lisa’s gaze to the side-table. She’d spotted the broken pieces of the box.

‘What happened?’

‘Noah.’

Lisa’s face betrayed shock. ‘Deliberate?’

Megan said, ‘I don’t know, not for sure. But I can’t see how it can have been an accident. I found him in here this morning. Asleep in Jonathan’s bed. The box was on the floor. Smashed.’

‘Grief comes out in different ways.’

In Noah’s case, that seemed to be in the form of a wild, unfocused anger with spurts of energy, then sudden collapses. But Megan was in no mood for empathy, given that so little had been shown to her. She picked up the lid of the box, ran her fingers across the cracked top. The next thing she knew, Lisa’s arms were around her. It was the first proper hug she’d had in months. Strong, firm. The physical shock and pleasure of it were overwhelming. She swayed slightly, but Lisa held on, keeping her upright. Only when Megan said, ‘Thank you’ did Lisa let go.

‘Can I help?’ She gestured at the mess.

‘Not with this, no. But I would like to talk to you.’

‘Of course.’

They shoved aside some of the clutter and pulled the chairs over to the window, drawing as close to the outside – and as far away from their spiteful voices – as possible. Without asking permission, Lisa closed the doors to the garden. Megan realised she was right to. The room was freezing. But once they were settled, Megan found she didn’t know where to begin. It was as if, after weeks of repressed thought and speech, she had lost the capacity to express herself.

‘So, they know about the house?’ Lisa asked.

‘I’m not sure. The keys weren’t in the box. But Liv has access to the bank accounts now, so it’s only a matter of time.’

Lisa nodded. Megan wasn’t surprised Lisa knew about the house in Darlington. She knew everything. She seemed to have helped Jonathan plan most of it. Christ, she’d probably bought the box. Megan’s feelings about her ricocheted uncomfortably: jealousy, resentment, reliance, affection. It was so hard to know what to feel about somebody who knew so much – had seen and done so much – but said so little. Megan put the broken pieces of the box aside. ‘You knew what Jonathan was planning all along, didn’t you?’

Lisa kept her chin up and her eyes on Megan. There wasn’t so much as a glimmer of discomfort. ‘Not at first. No. But by the end, yes, I knew most of it.’

Megan felt jealousy pinch at her heart. ‘It hurts that he trusted you more than me!’

‘That’s not true.’

‘Oh, but it is!’

‘It isn’t, Megan. It wasn’t a case of him wanting to confide in me – he had to. And it didn’t happen overnight. I had to earn his trust.’

‘But you did.’

‘Yes, I did.’

‘He should have confided in me.’

Lisa thought for a moment. ‘Would it help if I told you that most people who know they are dying don’t share their innermost thoughts and wishes with the people they love the most. They simply can’t. It’s too hard. Too fraught with emotion. It’s much easier to plan your death with a stranger.’

Megan shifted her gaze to the view beyond the window, unable to look at Lisa sitting in the chair opposite her. She couldn’t stop imagining all the conversations that must have gone on between Lisa and Jonathan in