The Younger Wife(20)

‘You interrupted me watching TV, actually,’ she said, closing the front door. ‘Cup of tea?’

‘What a good idea!’ he said, as if that hadn’t been his intention all along.

Rachel led the way to the kitchen, where Dad immediately settled himself at the round table and waited for her to produce a cup of tea. She should have found it insulting, the way he expected to be waited on, but he always seemed so happy when she handed over the tea that it was almost a delight to make it for him.

This was why men ruled the world.

‘Lemon cake?’

Dad grinned. ‘With cream, if you have it.’

Naturally, she did. She even had lemon-infused cream, made specially. She flicked on the kettle and cut them each a generous slice of cake, which she doused with cream. She placed a plate in front of Dad.

‘It was nice meeting Heather the other day,’ she said carefully. ‘She seemed . . . great.’

‘She can’t cook,’ he replied, spearing a piece of lemon cake. He was trying be brave, but Rachel could see he found this a little distressing.

‘Well,’ Rachel said, ‘lucky you already have a cook in the family.’

‘Indeed.’ His cheeks were bulging with cake. ‘I don’t suppose you offer cookery classes?’

‘For you, or for Heather?’

‘Both,’ he said diplomatically.

Dad wasn’t always diplomatic. The old Dad would have said, ‘Cooking? Me? I don’t think so,’ and Mum would have rolled her eyes and said, ‘Your father would struggle to make toast without me.’ Now he was considering cookery classes?

‘Speaking of Heather,’ Rachel said, ‘she called a few minutes ago.’

Dad looked up from his cake. He had a bit of cream on his chin. ‘Oh?’

‘I was in the middle of something and I had to end the call prematurely.’

‘Ah,’ Dad said. ‘She was hoping to arrange lunch with you and Tully. That’s why I stopped by. I want to make sure you and Tully are making an effort.’

Rachel thought about the way she’d hurried Heather off the phone and felt another stab of guilt.

‘Listen,’ he said. ‘I know these last few years have been a trial. And I know that strange doesn’t even begin to describe what it must feel like to have your father find himself a younger girlfriend while still married to your terribly ill mother. I know this, and I’m sorry. But, Rach, all of this is because of me. I made a decision to pursue a relationship with Heather at this time. Meeting Heather brought me the most joy I’ve had in years, and perhaps because of this I wasn’t as sensitive to what that would be like for you as I should have been. But that’s on me. And I’d hate for you to blame Heather for decisions that really have nothing to do with her.’

‘I don’t blame her, Dad.’

‘You don’t?’

‘No. And of course I’ll have lunch with her. I’ll do it here. I’ll make coq au vin. I’ll call Heather later to tell her.’

Dad looked relieved. ‘That sounds great. Do you think you can rope Tully in?’

‘I can try.’

He smiled. ‘Thanks, sweetie.’

‘No problem,’ she said. ‘And actually . . . since you’re here, there’s something I want to talk to you about,’ she continued.

‘Oh?’

‘You know that stuff you gave me at lunch? The stuff that Mum had stolen?’

‘Yes.’

‘There was a hot-water bottle in there.’

‘Oh yeah?’

‘And it had money inside. Quite a lot of money.’

He looked up, cocked an eyebrow. ‘Well,’ he said, after a moment, ‘maybe she was saving up for something. Or stashing it away for a rainy day. How much?’ He speared another piece of cake and put it in his mouth.

‘Almost a hundred thousand.’

Dad choked on his cake. After a moment, he swallowed. ‘A hundred thousand dollars?’

Rachel nodded. ‘I was about to fill it up with boiling water when I saw a fifty-dollar note sticking out the top. Where would Mum have got that kind of money from?’

He was silent for several seconds. ‘Honestly, I have no idea. She would have had to be putting away her housekeeping for her whole life to save that much.’

‘I thought the same thing.’

Dad drifted off into thought for almost a minute. When he finally looked at her, his expression was still just as bewildered.

‘What should I do with the money?’ she asked finally.

Dad picked up his tea. ‘Well, you know the expression: finders keepers.’

‘Oh no. I couldn’t.’

‘Nonsense,’ he said. ‘Why couldn’t you?’

Part of his eagerness for her to take it made Rachel wonder if he was the one behind it. It wouldn’t be unlike Dad to try to give her something without having to receive thanks for it. In fact, nothing made him more uncomfortable than being acknowledged for a kindness or good work. At the same time, she always knew when Dad was lying. It was a tic he had – his eyes flickered. Mum had pointed it out once, and she was absolutely right. And there was no tic now.

‘Dad, really it’s too much. Besides, what about Tully? Her name was –’