Read A Hidden Life Online

Authors: Adèle Geras

A Hidden Life (10 page)

Nessa took a mouthful of Sticky Chicken and felt vaguely guilty at what she realized was a kind of disloyalty to her husband. There was one way of dispelling these thoughts and she decided to go for it. Time to take out the cat and set her down in the midst of what would doubtless be a lovely flock of pigeons.

‘Delicious food, Phyl, as usual. You've gone to such trouble. But I really think we ought to get down to why we're here. We should discuss the will, don't you think?'

‘Hang on a mo, Ness,' said Justin. ‘We haven't all been together in this house as a family for such ages. Can't we enjoy the food and just chat for a bit?'

‘Well, no, I don't think we can, if you want to know.' Nessa could feel a note creeping into her voice that was only there when she was with her family, and she struggled to sound like a detached adult and get out of whiny sibling mode. She took a deep breath. ‘What d'you think, Lou?'

Lou looked up, clearly astonished to be consulted. She said, ‘I agree with Nessa. I can't eat properly if I know there's going to be a
thing
coming up. It makes me feel nervous.'

‘Nothing to be nervous about, darling,' said Matt. ‘We're here to see what, if anything, can be done to even out the terms of my mother's will.' He helped himself to the carrots, cooked with honey, ginger, cumin and parsley, which were one of Phyl's specialities, then went on. ‘She seems to have rather gone off the rails towards the end of her life.'

‘Not necessarily,' said Justin. ̵Perhaps she just knew her own mind and didn't dare tell you, Dad. She knew you'd argue with her and try and talk her round. Make her change it.'

‘It ought to have been changed.' Nessa glared at her brother. ‘How on earth do you justify her leaving Milthorpe House to you?'

‘Well, she had to leave it to someone. You've got a house. So has Dad. I don't see anything wrong with her giving me one.'

‘But Milthorpe isn't a
house.
It's a massive property which you couldn't possibly be intending to live in. How much is it worth, d'you think?' Justin asked.

‘I'm not altogether sure, of course, but somewhere between two and three million, I'd have thought,' Matt said.

Justin had the grace to look astonished, but he soon recovered his poise.

‘But why shouldn't I live there?'

‘You on your own? Unmarried and no children? It makes no sense.'

Justin glared at Nessa. ‘I might marry and have five children. How can you, with your one daughter, say you've got more right than I have to inherit Milthorpe?'

‘Nessa … Justin … don't start shouting at one another, please.' Matt was trying to look severely at the two of them, Nessa thought, and was succeeding only in looking sad. He went on, ‘I just thought we could consider perhaps …' He paused. ‘The thing is, there's no way I can contest this will through the courts. I had a long chat with Andrew Reynolds and he says that Mother was perfectly composed and sane when he saw her, and her nurses and the doctor haven't said a word about any – well, any change in how she normally was. So the thing is, it's up to you, Justin. To do what I reckon would be the right thing. Have you thought, for instance, about the possibility of selling the property and dividing up the proceeds? If everyone's honest, neither you nor Nessa actually wants to live in a huge old pile miles away from any of your businesses or work concerns. Isn't that true?'

‘Well, no, as a matter of fact.' Justin pushed the hair out of his eyes and leaned back in his chair so that he was balanced on its back legs. Nessa wondered how long Phyl would last before she asked him to stop doing that. During their childhood it had been one of her more predictable exhortations and the ghost of
if you can't sit properly at the table, then please just leave and go to your room
was practically visible, floating over them all. Nessa caught her stepmother's eye and wondered if she could see it too. Obviously not, as she looked away at once and went on eating without much enthusiasm.

‘I haven't thought about dividing it up. Of course not. D'you think I'm mad? I'm going to live there and I'm going to do great things, you see.' Justin was smiling now. I'm very sorry that Nessa is pissed off and it's bloody awful that Lou's been cut out altogether, but hey, that's none of my doing so I don't see why I'm the one that's got to be punished for it.'

‘What about you, Nessa?' Matt looked at her.

‘What about me? What have I got to do with anything? It seems that Justin's made up his mind and if he won't listen to reason then we're stymied.'

‘I get it.' Justin's face was going red. ‘What you think, and what Dad thinks, is reason and what I think is crap. Is that it?' He never could argue calmly. He always lost it, Nessa thought, mentally patting herself on the back for at least staying cool during an argument.

‘That's just typical,' he continued. ‘It's what you've always done, Nessa, our whole life. You just sit there looking superior and as if you don't care and you do … I know you do. It's eating you up, the fact that I've got the house and you haven't. And if you ask me,
that's
not fair. Anyone would think she'd cut you off without a farthing the way you're carrying on. You always do carry on, though, don't you? Nothing's ever good enough.'

‘For heaven's sake, Justin. You're acting like a child. In fact, that's your problem.' Nessa leaned towards her brother to make her point more forcefully. ‘You've never grown up!'

‘Enough of that!' Phyl spoke for the first time since the beginning of the meal, sounding exactly as she used to long ago when she was settling stupid disputes between the two of them. ‘Both of you are behaving like kids, and you aren't the ones who are hard done by, either of you. Why isn't Lou making a fuss? She's the one with grounds for complaint, I'd have thought.'

‘Sorry, Phyl,' said Nessa.

‘Yeah, sorry …' said Justin, and his sister heard him putting a smile into his voice and saw the effort it took to transfer the smile to his face. Still, you had to hand it to him, he was good at pretending. Everyone else, Nessa felt sure, would be thinking sweetness and light had been restored, but she could tell that Justin was still fuming and what's more, longing to be out of there. Well, welcome to the club,
little brother, she told herself. I can't wait to get home either.

‘That's okay,' said Phyl to both of them. She put her knife and fork down neatly on her plate. With a smile that Nessa recognized, the one that said
this is my loving and motherly smile but you're not deceived, are you?
she said: ‘But Justin does have a point, Nessa. Constance left you a very large sum of money from shares and so forth. I think it's a little – well, I don't think Justin's the only one who should consider dividing his inheritance more equally between the three of you. Gareth and you both earn good money and I'm sure Lou's needs—'

‘I haven't got any needs, Mum,' said Lou, interrupting Phyl just in time. If she hadn't spoken, Nessa was all ready to let rip. How dare Phyl? How dare her stepmother suggest that she divide her money when Justin was sitting on something that was worth so very much more?

‘I don't see why either of us should make amends for Lou not getting on with Constance,' she said, feeling faintly guilty because part of her recognized that what Phyl said was sort of true. Matt had brought the pudding to the table and served it while Phyl was speaking. Nessa now took a big bite of apple cake in a manner she hoped looked nonchalant. She spoke again, trying to sound a little more conciliatory, ‘It's not really our business.'

Lou glared at her. ‘No it isn't. You're right, Nessa. I'm quite capable of looking after myself and I'd rather starve than take a penny from either of you, ta very much. Constance didn't like me, and I think I know why, though that doesn't matter now. In any case, you can both relax. I'm very grateful for your help, Mum and Dad, and I couldn't have managed without you this last year or so, but it's not always going to be like that. I can earn a living and I will, too. And till I do, I'll manage, even if I'm not exactly rolling in it just at the moment. I don't care. I'm not accepting charity from Nessa and Justin.'

‘Good on you, Lou!' said Justin. ‘And I bet you
will
make a huge success of your life, too! I have faith – every faith – in your talent and character.'

‘Yes, me too,' said Nessa, wondering whether the others had heard the relief in Justin's voice. Yet she rather doubted that Lou was ever going to have a brilliant career, poor thing. She hadn't even
finished her course at uni and now, with a small child, there was little chance of that. Still, you had to admire her bravery. Nessa smiled at Lou and said, ‘I think you're being really noble, Lou, honestly, and I hope it all works out. You do know, don't you, that you can always rely on me for help? You must come down and stay with us any time. Whenever –
whenever
 – you feel you need to get away from London. I mean it. Truly.'

‘Ta, Ness,' Lou said. ‘When my hovel gets to be too much for me, you mean. That's kind of you. I might take you up on it.'

Nessa smiled and privately hoped it wouldn't be too soon or too often. She didn't think Lou would be rushing down to see them much, if at all, but she'd made the gesture so honour was restored. Justin, she reflected, hadn't made any such remark. Matt still looked pissed off. He obviously had no intention of leaving things where they were. There'd be letters going back and forth, emails, phone calls, and nothing would make any difference. Everyone would remain in exactly the same position as they were before. This meal had turned out to be precisely what Nessa had predicted: a total waste of time. She'd driven for half an hour to get here and now she'd have to drive half an hour to get home. Pointless and stupid.

She looked across at her brother and wanted, as she so often did, to smack him across his smug face. He was helping himself to the cream Phyl had provided to go with the apple cake and looking as though he'd like to jump into the jug and swim about in it. Bathing in cream would be, Nessa felt sure, no more than he thought he deserved. Well, I've not finished with him. She decided to talk to Justin on his own very soon. He probably wouldn't change his tune but she wasn't quite ready to give up just yet.

*

‘I could have done the night shift,' Phyl said. She'd come into Poppy's room while Lou was changing her daughter's nappy. It was two o'clock in the morning. Nessa and Justin had both driven off after the meal and the house seemed to settle into a kind of peace as soon as they'd gone. Phyl went on, ‘In fact, if Poppy wakes up again, I'll do it. You go to bed now and sleep in in the morning, too – you don't have to rush off first thing, do you?'

‘That's nice of you, Mum,' said Lou, fastening the sticky tapes of the nappy across Poppy's stomach and replacing her feet in the baby sleeping bag. ‘I'll take you up on that offer. Ta.'

‘D'you want to go off to bed now and let me take over?'

‘No, that's okay. Next time'll do fine.' She picked Poppy up and held her close. ‘She usually sleeps much better than this. It's the strange cot. She's not used to it.' The fragrance of clean baby skin and Johnson's baby wipes that filled her nostrils made her weak with a mixture of love and fear … the old fear that somehow she wasn't going to be up to it, wouldn't be able to do everything she was supposed to do in the way it was meant to be done and then … what then? Poppy would suffer.

‘You know …' Mum sounded tentative. She was whispering so quietly because of Poppy that Lou could hardly hear her.

‘What?'

‘We could look after her for a bit – just for a few weeks. To give you a break. I'd love it, Lou, honestly. I'm sure your dad would too. We'd take such good care of her. You wouldn't have to worry about her for a single second. And you could come and see her every weekend. Think about it, please, Lou. Think carefully. You look washed out, darling. I hope you don't mind me saying so, but it's true. This – this row about Constance and the will is the last straw, right? After – well, after everything else.'

Lou rocked backwards and forwards in a motion that she hoped very much would lull Poppy back into a deep sleep. She thought: I can just give her to Mum. I can leave Poppy here. I don't have to get up in the night. I don't have to take her to nursery. I can save some money. I don't have to have her in the flat. For a second, an image of how peaceful everything would be without a baby around swam in front of Lou's eyes and she found herself longing for it – longing for silence and freedom from worry and the permission to be completely selfish that vanished the minute you had a child. Mum was offering her a kind of salvation and she opened her mouth to say
yes, of course. Take her. I'll see her when she's five
 … and was then overcome by a wave of guilt so strong that tears sprang into her eyes. How could she think like that? What kind of monster mother was she? Anyone would think she didn't love Poppy. But I do. God, I do. I can't. I
can't let her be here when I'm in London. I'd be thinking about her all the time. It's not as though I've got a proper job that takes me out of the house or that I need to be doing. I can't be reading things for Cinnamon Hill more than a couple of days a week.

‘I will think about it, Mum,' she said, and Phyl nodded and slipped out of the room. Lou held her breath as she leaned forward to put Poppy back into the cot, doing the mental crossing of fingers, praying that the transition from warm arms to cool, flat sheets wouldn't wake her daughter. It sometimes did, but tonight Lou was lucky and tiptoed out of the room and along the corridor to her own bedroom. Mum was right to call this the night shift – that was just what she felt like – a worker coming off shift, lighthearted and carefree. Mum would be dealing with anything else that Poppy did tonight, and early tomorrow. Bliss …

Other books

The Perfect Stranger by Anne Gracie
Forgive Me, Alex by Lane Diamond
Task Force Bride by Julie Miller
Homecoming Hero by Renee Ryan
The Indian Bride by Karin Fossum
La taberna by Émile Zola
Raw Bone by Scott Thornley