Page 117 of Scotch on the Rocks

His jaw ticked. “They were going to find out eventually.”

“Find out what?” Mal asked, his face smooth as marble, perfectly blank even as he held a sleeping Ava so carefully. Heather’s arms wrapped around her middle, paler than I’d ever seen her. For the first time in so long, I floundered, without a clue what to say to my siblings.

Juniper’s words came back to me from the day she’d encountered Dad in the village,Who’s taking care of you?

Perching on my coffee table, glass of whisky in hand, she’d known the answer without me having to say it.No one. No one takes care of me.And I’d been okay with that. What I couldn’t accept was the knowledge that tonight likely wouldn’t have happened if I’d been more open with my siblings.

Heather whispered my name again and I finally faced them. “Dad—” I took a ragged breath. “The diseasehas worsened a lot quicker than doctors first predicted. His memory loss is significant and he’s becoming agitated, because of that he’s started wandering out of the house. That’s what happened tonight.”

“No.” Heather shook her head. Chin raised defiantly. “I would have known, we have lunch every weekend, I would have noticed.”

“Mum and I have gotten good at covering it up.” Not to mention big groups overwhelmed Dad these days. He’d lostall ability to follow a conversation, he pretty much sat in silence any time we were all together.

“Why cover it up at all? You had no right to keep that from us.” There was an edge to Mal’s tone. Guilt perhaps, the last thing I ever wanted from him. April’s arm curled around his waist, silently soothing.

Pacing to the window, I shoved a hand through my hair. “Because I didn’t want to burden you.”

“Bullshit,” Mal shot back, the steel in his voice taking me aback. “This is classic you. You have a hero complex a mile wide, always looking for something to fix, a new problem to take on so you can avoid what’s missing in your own life.”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what – ratherwho– he referred to. People always said introverts were the most observant, but I hadn’t realised my wee brother saw me quite so clearly.

“No more,” he finally said. “We make these decisions together. As a family.”

I nodded, shoulders slumping with relief. It was an easy agreement to make. I didn’t want to do this alone, not anymore.

“As a family,” Heather agreed, coming to my side to hug me.

Alistair’s agreement came last. He stood away from the rest of us, his tone cool, posture aloof. But he spoke the words all the same – as a family – and I knew we’d be okay eventually.

36

Juniper

Digital receipt:

Time: 02.13 a.m.

Order Number : 27310

Item: 1000 x missing cat posters

Something poked me in the ribs. A finger. Or the sharp end of Shakespeare’s paw, perhaps. Enjoying my dream too much, I rolled over, burrowing deeper into my pillow.

“Time to wake up.” A familiar voice I recognised as irritated cut through the haze, drifting too far away for me to piece together exactly why that voice would be in my bedroom.

The finger poked me again. Hard enough to force my eyes open.

My brain ninety percent mush, it took a moment to realise it wasn’t my cottage ceiling above me, but the cloud-mottled sky, somewhere between black and grey as the dreich day broke. The smell of damp air and mud irritating my nose.

I blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Rubbed my eyes and blinked again.

Hovering above me, hands on his hips, his overly bushy mutton chops looking more like devil horns from his upside down position … was Hank.

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