The Younger Wife(41)

‘How did the date go?’ she cried, before Rachel could get a word in. ‘I’m so sorry I haven’t called! Tell me everything and don’t leave out any details.’

‘Are you in the car?’ Rachel asked.

‘Yes. I’m taking the boys to McDonald’s.’

There was a pause. ‘You’re taking them to McDonald’s? Tully, are you feeling all right?’

‘Aunty Rachel?’ Locky cried. ‘Is that you?’

‘It sure is,’ she said. ‘Hi, Lock. Hi, Miles.’

Miles didn’t respond.

‘There’s a photographer at our house so Mummy said we had to go for a drive,’ Locky said helpfully. ‘And a man who is selling our house.’

‘A man who is selling your house?’ Rachel said.

‘It’s a long story,’ Tully said. ‘Probably not one to go into over the phone.’

‘Got it.’ Rachel was quiet for a minute. ‘Hey – if you’ve got to be out of the house, why don’t you bring the boys here and I’ll make them a spinach and feta omelette.’

‘Yay!’ Locky said. Even Miles smiled a little. ‘I have to say, Mummy, I didn’t like the sound of McDougal’s!’





22


RACHEL


‘Aunty Rachel!’ Locky cried the moment she opened the door. He threw himself into her arms. Miles threw himself into her arms too, but silently.

‘I love your tummy,’ Locky said, rubbing it affectionately as if it were a puppy. ‘It’s squishy.’ He pulled away and barrelled into the house, followed by his younger brother.

‘Thanks, buddy,’ Rachel called after him. She didn’t bother adding, ‘Come on in,’ as it appeared that horse had already bolted.

By the time Rachel had ushered Tully inside and closed the door behind her, Miles was clambering onto one of the stools in the kitchen and helping himself to a red velvet cupcake, while Locky was jumping on the couch.

‘Boys!’ Tully said. ‘For goodness sake! Sorry, Rach.’

Rachel waved the apology away as Locky ran over to join them.

‘Can I have a cupcake?’ he asked, apparently noticing the smear of frosting already on Miles’s face. ‘Pleeeeease.’ He was looking at his mother for permission, rather than Rachel, and to Rachel’s surprise Tully nodded.

‘Did you want me to make the omelette first?’ Rachel asked, and Tully just shrugged. It was alarming. She’d always been so controlling with the boys – what they ate, who they played with, how they spoke. For her to be suggesting McDonald’s and allowing them to have a cupcake before dinner, something must be very wrong.

‘Sit down,’ Rachel said to Tully firmly, gesturing to an armchair. ‘Tell me what’s going on. You’re selling your house?’

‘Yes.’

‘Moving somewhere bigger and better?’

Tully laughed sadly. ‘Wouldn’t that be nice? No.’

‘Okay,’ Rachel said slowly.

‘And because I know you’re too polite to ask why’ – Tully lowered her voice and glanced pointedly at the boys, though it was unnecessary because they were utterly consumed by their cupcakes – ‘it’s because we’ve lost our money in a bad investment.’

‘Seriously?’

Tully nodded.

Wordlessly, Rachel walked to the kitchen, poured a large glass of wine and carried it back to her sister, stopping to hand the boys another cupcake each on the way past. She sat down again and instructed Tully to drink.

‘Wow,’ Rachel said, once Tully had had a few deep gulps. ‘That’s . . . I had no idea.’

‘It’s a reasonably new thing. I’m still getting my head around it myself. I mean, I know it’s happened, but I keep thinking that somehow we’ll be able to keep the house. We’ll . . . I don’t know – win the lottery or something.’

The lottery. It gave Rachel an idea. She walked into her bedroom, picked up the plastic bag she’d stuffed the cash into, and returned, thrusting the bag at Tully.

Tully looked at it warily. ‘What’s this?’

‘Consider it a lottery win,’ Rachel said. ‘I mean . . . it’s not millions of dollars. But ninety-seven thousand-odd dollars should help, right?’

‘Ninety-seven thousand dollars?’ Tully said. ‘Good God, Rachel. Where did you get this?’

‘Found it,’ Rachel said. ‘Stuffed inside a hot-water bottle that belonged to Mum.’

Tully shook her head. ‘What?’

‘It’s true,’ Rachel said. ’Bizarre as it sounds.’

‘But where would Mum get this kind of money? And why would she keep it in a hot-water bottle?’ Tully pulled out a fistful of cash and looked at it closely, as if expecting it to be fake. ‘Does Dad know?’

‘I told him,’ she said. ‘But he doesn’t have a clue where it came from either. He just told me to keep it.’

‘He told you to keep it?’ Tully said, affronted. ‘Just like that? Without even consulting me?’

‘I guess he assumed that you were doing okay financially,’ Rachel said. ‘As did I. If I’d known the truth, I would have given it to you immediately.’