Private Lives

‘What the hell’s been going on?’ she said, thumping her Chanel quilt bag on to the seat next to him.

Matthew tried to control himself. He hadn’t slept in twenty-four hours and was tired, hungry and drained. The last thing he needed right now was a confrontation.

‘Was he drinking?’ she snapped. ‘Did you let him drink? Did you upset him?’

‘Lovely to see you too,’ said Matthew.

‘Cut the shit, Matthew,’ she replied, narrowing her blue eyes. ‘You knew he had high blood pressure.’

‘I didn’t, actually,’ said Matthew tartly. ‘We haven’t even exchanged Christmas cards for about a decade, let alone medical histories.’

‘So what happened?’

‘Look, we were having lunch and he keeled over.’

‘Just like that? I don’t think so.’

‘Well, yes, he had been drinking. You know what he’s like.’

‘Yes, I do,’ said Loralee. ‘I know my husband very well and I know he’s promised to cut down on his drinking. He must have been agitated.’

Matthew looked away guiltily.

‘I knew it!’ said Loralee. ‘You had a row, didn’t you?’

He resented Loralee’s implication that he had somehow deliberately brought on his father’s heart attack, even if he had spent the last day accusing himself of the same thing. If only he hadn’t given his dad such a hard time, if only he hadn’t let him drink so much, if only he’d said no to going to lunch; every ‘if only’ possible had crossed his mind from the moment he had got into the ambulance to the time the doctors had finally told him that Larry was going to be all right. He inhaled deeply, the sterile hospital smell filling his throat.

‘There was a heated conversation, yes,’ he admitted. ‘More of a legal debate really. But Loralee, from what the doctors were saying, he’s had some heart problems before. Honestly, I had no idea about the high blood pressure.’

‘And would that have made any difference?’ she sneered. Matthew noticed with detachment just how white and even her teeth were.

‘Of course it would have made a difference. I don’t want anything to happen to him, he’s my father.’

Loralee laughed mirthlessly.

‘Is he? When it suits you, when there’s something in it for you.’

The words stung. ‘You mean the partnership? Don’t be ridiculous. It was Larry who got in touch with me, not the other way around.’

‘You expect me to believe that? Rather convenient, isn’t it; just when your company is about to go belly up, along comes Daddy out of the blue to offer you the partnership.’

‘I don’t know what you’re implying, but . . .’

‘I’m not implying anything, Matty,’ she said sarcastically. ‘I’m stating it as fact. You jumped in and took advantage of a sick old man you don’t give a shit about.’

‘Loralee, listen . . .’ he said, pulling himself up to his full six-foot-four-inch height. He had a rower’s build, honed on the River Cam at university, and could look pretty intimidating when he wanted to be.

‘No, you listen,’ she hissed, lowering her voice so they couldn’t be overheard. ‘I love your father. I want what’s best for us. You’ve had nothing to do with him for the past twenty-five years and he’s been fine, absolutely fine. Then the second you come back into his life, he ends up almost dead.’

Her words had an unsettling ring of truth. He looked back into the private hospital room where his father lay, pale, weak, the irrepressible life force drained out of him. How could a man who had always been such a towering presence seem so small and meek in his hospital bed? He was glad Larry was sleeping. He would hate the feeling of being like that.

If only I hadn’t accepted the partnership.

Matt wasn’t a doctor. He had no idea if their argument had directly contributed to the heart attack. But it was inevitable that their working relationship was always going to be tense and destructive. There were clearly too many emotions – guilt, resentment – for it to be anything else. He knew he should have turned the offer down; for years he had wanted to punish his father, and rejecting Larry’s offer would have been a lethal way to do it. But he had taken the partnership for other, selfish reasons, and look where it had got them.

‘We’ve had a difficult relationship, that’s true,’ he said, feeling his cheeks turn red and angry. ‘But don’t dare say I don’t give a shit about him. I’ve been by his bedside for twenty-four hours. I’ve had no sleep because he’s my dad and of course I care what happens to him. Now can we stop this bickering, because it’s not helping and in the scheme of things it doesn’t matter.’

Loralee looked away and was silent for a few moments. When her eyes reconnected with his, they were glistening with tears.