The Legacy, Caroline Bond [popular books to read txt] 📗

pain, and the weight of the tiger. It seemed to grow heavier and more cumbersome with each set of steps. By the time he reached the top he was sweating, and deeply regretting his choice of gift. But, heroically, he finally made it. As he walked the last ten minutes back to the house, he passed an elderly couple. The woman did a double-take.

Noah slowed down to let them gawp. ‘It’s for my daughter. She’s obsessed with animals, especially big cats.’

The woman smiled indulgently. ‘I’m sure she’ll love it. What child wouldn’t? She’s a lucky little girl.’

Noah was grateful for her comment, but he knew it wasn’t true.

Chapter 27

SHE WAS not as Eloise remembered, though Eloise’s memory of Megan had – even she would have to admit – been quite seriously affected by the corrosive distortions of bitterness and jealousy. For a start, Megan was much shorter in the flesh; perhaps the perpetual addition of slutty high heels, in Eloise’s imagination, had skewed her height perceptions. She also looked much older and ‘flatter’ – far more nondescript – than the Cadbury’s Caramel Bunny that had been burrowing away in a dark corner of Eloise’s heart for the past five years. But there again, watching the man you ‘loved’ die slowly was liable to knock the sheen off most people. Eloise waited to wince at her own viciousness, but didn’t.

‘Oh.’ Pause. ‘Hello.’ Megan’s voice, likewise, lacked the ooze and drip that Eloise heard whenever she let her get a word in edgeways inside her head. To her credit, Megan didn’t scream at the sight of her lover’s ex-wife standing in ‘her’ kitchen.

‘Hi. I hope this is okay. The kids asked me to come over. I thought it would be good for us to be together, at this difficult time.’ Megan could hardly argue with that, could she?

‘Mum, do you want topping up?’ Eloise waved away Chloe’s offer of more coffee, though it was good to hear ‘Mum’ being used once again in the kitchen. From the brief glimpses of the hall and her perusal of the kitchen, it seemed a lot had changed since she’d been ousted. She’d expected that. What new partner wouldn’t want to erase all evidence of her predecessor? Eloise couldn’t wait to have a good poke around and see what Megan had got past Jonathan, and what he’d dug in his heels about. He’d obviously lost the argument about the crockery on the dresser – it was hideous. Eloise had to stop the smile in her head transferring to her face. The opportunity to judge Megan, and her choice of home furnishings – and find her lacking – might yet prove to be a compensation of the visit.

The crushing awkwardness of their tête-à-tête was interrupted by the arrival of Arthur and Freddie. They ran into the kitchen, screeched to a stop when they spotted their grandma, then ran over to greet her. From her position crouched down, being hugged and covered in sandy, sticky kisses, Eloise glanced up at Megan. She was rewarded by the sight of Megan’s face flickering with distress. Eloise’s qualms about coming over to Scarborough were lessening by the minute. Angus looked briefly startled to see his mother-in-law, but he covered it up well with a hug. She was back in the bosom of her family. All she needed now was Liv, and Noah’s little gang, and they would all be together. A united front. Poor Megan.

Eloise wasn’t surprised that her eldest daughter hadn’t put in an appearance yet. She imagined Liv with her head down in Jonathan’s study, surrounded by every available piece of paperwork, leaving Angus to entertain the boys, as per usual. ‘Where’s Liv?’

‘She’s walking back with Noah.’ Angus started collecting up Freddie and Arthur’s joyously and carelessly discarded shoes and coats. ‘Boys. Go and wash your hands. Now! You both pong of seaweed.’ They thundered out. Angus followed them, presumably to ensure that his instructions were followed. He was an attentive father.

Noah and Liv having a powwow, without Chloe – Eloise filed that snippet away. Christ, what had Jonathan been thinking? Three siblings always created a difficult dynamic, and their family had been no different. Liv, Noah and Chloe’s childhood had been one long sequence of overlapping grievances: who ate the last bag of crisps, who broke the swing, who got the best bedroom, who got the most attention, who was Dad’s favourite? (They never seemed to care who was hers.) They fought about anything and everything.

It had been Jonathan who found their relentless jockeying an issue. He’d seen it as a problem to be fixed. To her, it was an irritant to be ignored. Eloise believed that sibling rivalry was natural. Her approach had been to starve it – and them – of the oxygen of attention; unlike Jonathan, who had always insisted on wading in, adjudicating, explaining, trying to get them to act like mature adults when in reality they were feral children. Had he forgotten those seemingly endless years of strife? Or had he remembered them all too well? Hence this last, contrived attempt to force some sort of unity onto the three of them. They would never know – but Eloise was coming round to the view that it was worth being around to find out.

While she’d been reflecting on family dynamics, Megan had picked up a dishcloth and begun wiping down the draining board, her back to the room. Eloise watched her, trying to guess what was going on inside her head. She failed. Perhaps it was only polite to actually ask. ‘How have you been coping?’ There was a pause during which Chloe glanced at her mother, her expression pinched. She was obviously worried about where Eloise was taking the conversation and, no doubt, puzzled as to why she was including Megan in it. Megan didn’t reply – assuming the question wasn’t aimed at her, or not wanting to answer it. Both were equally possible. For some perverse and wholly unkind