Page 29 of The Secrets of Dragonfly Lodge
She shrugged. ‘Oh, various things…’ She let the matter hang, enjoying his curiosity. ‘Why don’t you want Nancy to talk to me?’ she asked, like a sword thrust.
He flinched, then, after a moment’s thought, said soberly, ‘Because of all she’s suffered. The last thing she needs at this stage of life is exposure.’
‘Exposure? Exposure of what or to what? My book is going to be a general one about women’s experiences. It’s supposed to be supportive of women. What are you worried I’d expose?’
His face closed as though a shutter had come down, but she wasn’t letting go easily.
‘What is it you’re protecting her from, Aaron?’
‘Gran has always worried about legal repercussions ifcertain things are revealed. I’m not sure she’d be strong enough to endure those.’
‘Legal repercussions for what?’ Stef’s journalist’s antennae were on full alert.
He sighed impatiently. ‘She worries that someone with a guilty secret will stop at nothing to keep it suppressed. I’m not exactly sure what this is all about, but you’ve been warned.’
His hectoring tone annoyed her. She said softly, ‘Nancy may be old, but she’s of sound mind. I think what she tells me is up to her, don’t you?’
He made an angry sound in his throat. ‘I thought you wanted to help my grandmother,’ he spat out, ‘but all this nosing about won’t help her at all. Quite the reverse, in fact.’ He turned and marched back to the cottage, leaving her staring after him. The front door shut so smartly that a flock of starlings flew up from a nearby tree, twittering in alarm. Stephanie stared wanly at the closed door.
Fifteen
On Wednesday morning on her way to visit Nancy, Stef parked by the visitors’ centre to buy Nancy a bar of special chocolate she’d noticed in the shop. Josh had just opened up.
‘How was Nancy yesterday?’ he asked as he put the chocolate through the till. ‘I didn’t see her, just popped the card through.’
‘Well, she hasn’t broken any bones, so with luck she’ll recover quickly.’
Josh nodded, but didn’t send Nancy his best wishes or offer any help as one might expect. Yet he’d readily delivered the card. He was a strange one, Stef thought.
As she walked through Nancy’s garden a few minutes later, she saw that the sitting room window was open and Nancy was sitting on the sofa, reading. Thankfully she was on her own. Stef wondered where Aaron was.
‘Hello,’ she called through the window, ‘I’ll let myself in, shall I?’ But the old lady immediately reached for hercrutches and struggled to her feet, and a moment later met her in the hall.
‘You’re making progress!’ Stef cried as she closed the door behind her.
‘Yes, I’m much better this morning, after a good night. It’s a comfortable bed and, do you know, the hospital sent a carer along to help me dress. Come through, will you, we’ll make coffee.’ Stef followed Nancy on her slow route to the kitchen, where she handed over the chocolate. ‘I thought you’d appreciate the picture on the wrapper.’
‘Oh, a dragonfly! Very pretty. And it’s fruit and nut, my favourite. Now, perhaps you’d kindly make the coffee, as it’ll take me too long with my injury. And you might be relieved to hear that I’ve sent Aaron back to London. It was his turn to have Livy and I don’t like him to miss out.’
‘Oh, he said that Livy was with her mother.’
‘Did he? Men, as we know, are funny. I don’t think he sees enough of his daughter. I know he loves her to bits, but he doesn’t make the time.’
‘They’re not together, he and Livy’s mother, I take it?’
‘Aaron and Crystal? No, not for several years. They met at university and Livy was, shall we say, an unexpected gift. A child is always a joy and they tried to stay together for her, but one changes so much in one’s twenties, doesn’t one, and it didn’t work out for them.’
Stef listened, but didn’t know enough to comment. Still, it was interesting to gain these insights into Aaron. Maybe it was the failure of this relationship that had made him bitter.
‘Bring the tray through, will you?’ Stef did so. In the sittingroom, the bed had been neatly made and the room was tidy. There was no sign of the hated wheelchair.
When they were settled, Nancy on the sofa with the cat beside her and Stef in her fireside chair, Stef drew out her notebook, then hesitated. ‘Would you mind if I set a tape recorder running? It’s what I usually do.’
To her dismay, Nancy froze. ‘You’d record me? I’m not sure I’d like that.’
‘I don’t have to,’ Stef said quickly. ‘But it is only me who would use the recording. It helps with accuracy, you see.’
‘So you wouldn’t let anyone else listen, then.’
