Page 16 of Happily Never After
‘And when the poor unfortunate woman is dead, he’s now got to pay the lender their five grand plus interest, plus the second five to the hitman. Let’s say twelve thousand in total.’
‘Which he takes out of his wife’s estate.’
‘That’s where your plot falls down. In order for that to work, the whole twelve grand would need to be lying around in a joint account, and that doesn’t sound very likely, does it? Anything that’s solely in her name, such as savings, investments and so on, would have to go through probate, and the hitman isn’t going to wait that long. And even if she were foolish enough to leave that kind of money in a joint account, a big cash withdrawal within days of her demise is going to look suspicious as hell.’
‘Bollocks. I think I’ll stick to pastries and leave the murdering to you.’
I smile. ‘It was a good try. Oh, and Michael’s potty about Debbie, so I don’t think he’s going to leave her for you any time soon.’
‘I don’t do married men anyway. That doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate him from afar.’
‘Just don’t piss Debbie off. Seeing my family is fraught enough without you adding to the tension.’
She grins again. ‘I’ll be good, promise. Ah, here we are.’
Unsurprisingly, my brother’s people carrier is already parked outside the house as Liv swings onto the drive. He and Debbie live just the other side of Ashford, so haven’t had nearly as far to come. I do have a key to Mum and Dad’s house, but it feels weird just letting myself in having not lived there for years, so I press the doorbell, setting off a frenzy of barking from the other side.
‘Yes, Rufus,’ I can hear my mother saying firmly. ‘You’re a good boy for letting me know there’s someone at the door but I’m dealing with it, OK? Go in the kitchen. Shoo.’
‘Hello, Mum,’ I say as she eventually swings the door wide, having successfully banished the dog.
‘Laura!’ she exclaims as if my visit is a complete surprise to her. ‘How lovely to see you.’ She doesn’t hug me immediately, standing back to appraise me first.
‘You look pale,’ she observes. ‘Are you eating a balanced diet? We were watching a documentary the other night about the obesity crisis. Apparently, all these people are so fat because junk food is much cheaper than eating healthily. You don’t look fat, at least. Olivia, darling, welcome. Oh, you shouldn’t have!’
Liv hands over a stunningTarte aux pommesthat she spent hours yesterday making and, while Mum fusses and acts like she wasn’t expecting it at all, I’m certain she was. I’d be amazed if she’s even prepared a pudding herself, knowing that there was no way Liv would turn up empty handed.
‘I’ve brought some cream to go with it,’ Liv says, handing over a small bag. ‘It’s from the local dairy that supplies the pâtisserie, so it should be good.’
‘You’re a darling,’ Mum tells her as she ushers us inside. Meg and Rufus, my parents’ enormous fox-red Labrador, promptly block the hallway as they embark on an elaborate ritual of bottom-sniffing, making the process of getting through to the sitting room where everyone else is positively hazardous.
‘Laura, you made it,’ Dad says in the kind of tone that would make you believe we’ve come from the South Pole rather than a few miles up the road. ‘Olivia, lovely to see you as always.’
‘All right, Loz?’ Michael asks me, punching me on the shoulder. This has been his standard greeting for as long as I can remember, so I’m braced for it.
‘I’m fine,’ I reply. ‘You?’
‘Yeah, you know. Debbie’s a saint, the kids are a nightmare. Nothing changes.’
‘Don’t listen to him, he loves his boys to bits,’ Debbie scolds as she crosses the room to hug Liv and me. ‘I feel like I haven’t seen you for ages, Laura. I’m so sorry about Angus, but I gather you’ve moved in with Olivia now?’
‘I’m renting a room in her house, yes,’ I say carefully. Communication in my family operates like a game of Chinese whispers. You can feed an accurate piece of information to one person, but the version you get back from someone else is so garbled it’s unrecognisable. So, despite making it very clear to Mum what my living arrangements are, it wouldn’t surprise me at all if Debbie were to think she ought to be picking out hats for Liv’s and my upcoming nuptials.
‘Well, as long as you’re OK, that’s the main thing,’ Debbie says soothingly. ‘When we heard about the whole Angus situation, Mike’s and my immediate reaction was that you should move in with us until you were back on your feet but, on reflection, we thought it might be a bit much for the boys to have to share a room. George is at a sensitive age and needs his own space.’
I glance down at George, who is sprawled on the floor staring at his phone. He doesn’t look sensitive to me, but what would I know?
‘It’s fine,’ I tell her. ‘Meg and I are very happy with Liv.’
‘Oh, goodness,’ she says, looking shocked. ‘I completely forgot about your dog. Yes, we couldn’t have had her at all. Well, I’m glad it’s all worked out.’
Debbie’s faux concern is starting to grate and I need to get away. I’m pleased to see that, rather than ogling my brother, Liv appears to have roused the supposedly sensitive George from his screen and is chatting with him. Michael and Dad are deep in discussion about something, so I head for the kitchen on the pretext of giving my mother a hand.
‘Are you sure you’re all right, darling?’ Mum asks as I busy myself washing up the pots and pans she’s no longer using. ‘Your father and I have been worried about you.’
Uh-oh. Maybe this was a mistake.
‘I’m fine,’ I tell her, keeping my voice neutral. ‘Why?’
