Page 101 of Lipstick Kiss

The door swinging open gave her a start, but she swallowed the yelp.

“Good, you’re here,” her father snapped and returned to his study, leaving the door ajar.

It irritated her that his assumption was to ignore him. Ignoring her father’s instructions would be painful as she had found out most of her life.

“Sit down, child,” he barked when he lowered into the round leather desk chair that looked older than him. It squeaked as he settled.

Her father was still trim, he walked the grounds daily, so it wasn’t his weight causing the sounds, just the age of the furniture.

“What can I do for you?” Cynthia said.

Her father gave her a simpering stare.

“I need you to see Mr Morris at the school and tell him he is the new headmaster.”

Cynthia had never been given Turner business to conduct before. This was a first. She wondered why Freddie wasn’t doing the job or himself. Like he was reading her mind, he spoke again.

“I want you to remind him he is to keep with his weekly reports on the Turner children, and if he doesn’t declare an incident before I hear it from another source, he is to leave Copper Island immediately with no references.”

There was her answer. Archibald Turner would never directly threaten any resident of Copper Island. He reserved that just for her. He couldn’t ask Freddie to do it because he’d say no. Her father couldn’t afford to piss off his other child, or he’d have no one to leave Copper Island as she wouldn’t inherit over Freddie.

But her father had no trouble getting her to do his bullying work.

Who did he get to spy on her when she was walking around town?

“Okay, Father. I’ll go and do that now.”

“Why is Imelda still here?”

“She’s Freddie’s wife.”

“I am aware of who my son married, child. You had one job, and that was to get her off the island. She’s still here.”

“Imelda is resilient and will never leave her children, no matter how miserable she becomes.”

“Do you have anything to do with how sick she gets when Freddie is away?”

“I hadn’t noticed she was unwell. Isn’t that how everyone is after giving birth?”

“Well, I wouldn’t know,” he clipped.

Cynthia didn’t know if he was stating the obvious or making a point. He’d told her years ago when he found out she was pregnant to get rid of it. She’d told him she had. No more was said on the matter. No details of how she got rid of the child or if it was ever born.

Her father pulled a folder off a tall stack of files and opened it. He reached for his reading glasses, put them on and read, turning the pages over as he went. She’d learned from the past not to get up until he had audibly dismissed her. Sometimes he made her wait hours.

A double tap sounded at the door, and then it opened.

“Frederick Turner, Sir,” Bailey said.

“Let him in, Bailey,” her father said without looking up.

He turned another page and peered at her over her glasses. “You can go now.”

“Thank you,” she said and didn’t waste any time getting up and walking swiftly to the door.

She ignored Freddie as he passed her at the threshold. She had her role to play, and Freddie had his.

Cynthia didn’t care why he was summoned. He’d never tell her, anyway.

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