Page 31 of Good Bad Girl

“She needed help.”

“Not the kind of help you gave her. You tricked her. Got her to sign things she would never have signed if she understood them. Arranged for her to move into a bloody awful care home, without her knowledge, or mine. Took everything she loved away from her, including her bloody dog, and then let her think I was responsible for all of it.”

“You were. You asked her to move out.”

“At least I let her move in when she needed someone the most. She would have been left to rot in her own house had it been up to you. She was falling overallthe time, forgetting to take her heart pills, accidently leaving the gas stove on, almost blowing herself and the rest of the street up, and when we couldn’t find a suitable place for her to live, you did nothing.”

“You’re just like Mum, do you know that? It’s as though you’ve turned into her. Changing the narrative to whatever story suits your own conscience best. Turning a blind eye to anything that makes you look like a lousy daughter. I did what needed doing.”

His words feel like a series of slaps, pinches, and punches, hard ones, but Clio still has a few punches of her own left to throw.

“Anything you did for her you did for the inheritance.”

“Are you sure you’re not projecting, dear sister of mine?” He shrugs. “It’s only money.”

Clio looks around the art gallery that was once beautiful. It was a shock when the father she only met twice left this place to her, her mother, and Jude—whom he only metonce—in his will. All three of them have owned it since, though Clio and her mother are very much silent partners. It turned out that their grandfather owned the gallery before their father—a real family business for the family that never was. Despite all the opportunities and handouts her brother has received, he has only succeeded in running it into the ground. Clio wanted to sell the place from the start, she suspects they might have to now. Jude has never really cared about art or the people who make it. He only cares about two things: money and himself.

Clio turns to leave, but not without a parting shot. “Well, if ‘it’s only money’ you won’t be too upset to learn that our mother has changed her will, and applied to reverse the power of attorney that gave us control of her financial affairs. She’s even instructed a lawyer to get her house back.”

“What are you talking about?” he says, standing closer than Clio is comfortable with. Since they were teenagers he has always been taller, louder, stronger than her. He’s also very good at knowing how to make her feel worse in order to make himself feel better.

“Our mother has outsmarted you,” she tells him, unable to hide her glee. “Your plan to fool her into living in a care home, trick her out of her house, and siphon off a considerable chunk of her money to tide you and the business over didn’t go unnoticed.”

“You’ve been getting half the money—”

“Which I used to pay the fees for the terrible place you stuck her in.”

“Well, you won’t have to pay them much longer.”

“What doesthatmean?” Clio asks but Jude doesn’t answer. She takes the envelope out of her bag. “Here is a copy of Mum’s new will. Still, as you say, it’s only money.”

“Money is never only money,” he says, snatching the document from her hands.

“I know you’ve never been a fan of reading, so let me spare you the embarrassment of not being able to understand all the long words. Our mother is planning to leave almost everything she has left to a stranger.”

He turns the pages until he reaches the relevant paragraph. “And I see she is leaving her third ofmybusiness to you.”

“I don’t care about the gallery. You’re welcome to it, but I was counting on some cash.”

“How on earth did a bedridden old woman change her will?”

“She’s not bedridden, she just chooses not to leave her room. From the letters I’ve read, this dime-a-dozen lawyer visited the care home and the new will was witnessed by one of the other residents. A Mr. Henderson. We need to find Mum. There might still be a way to fix this, so that you don’t have to lose the gallery—”

“So thatyoudon’t have to lose your precious pink house you mean? Don’t act as though you don’t need the money too.”

“I’mthe one who has been using my own money to top up the astronomical amount required to pay for her care. So, yes, things are a little tight.”

“Join the club. All you ever do is complain about everything. You’ve done nothing to help run this place for over a decade, but you still think you’re entitled to a third of it.”

“Because I own a third of it!”

“And yetI’mthe one who gave up my own dreams to follow in our father’s footsteps and keep the family business alive—”

“The family business. You barely knew the man—”

“That wasn’thisfault.”

“Well, it wasn’t mine either. And he left the gallery tobothof us. It’s mine, just as much as it is yours.”

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