Under His Influence

“But you’re positively wraithlike, Anna. You look so fragile, and so pale. Oh!” Caro’s eyes opened wide. “Gosh, I’m an idiot. You look tired and you’re sleeping all the time. You can’t already be…?”

Luana crashed in with the tea tray, dumping it with a rattle of china on the low, tiled coffee table between the sisters-in-law.

Anna looked down and nodded, her waxen cheeks suddenly suffused with a heated bloom.

“Oh my! Well…that’s…terrific, of course.”

Caro sounded uncertain. She looked behind her to find Luana still hovering beneath a large palm.

“And thank you, Luana. That will be all.”

She waited until they were alone before speaking again.

“Congratulations, I mean. I’m going to be an aunt. Auntie Caro. It has a ring to it, though it sounds disgustingly middle-aged.”

For all the warmth of the words, Anna could not ignore the cautious dismay behind them.

“Do you think it’s too soon?” she ventured.

“It doesn’t matter what I think, does it? Are you happy? Is John?”

Anna picked up the teapot, smelled the tannic strength of the soaked leaves within and felt a twinge of nausea. She held her breath, pouring the brown liquid into Caro’s cup.

“Oh, I always do milk first, dear,” Caro said absently, before returning to the sixty million dollar question that Anna had hoped to deflect. “So?”

“Yes. He’s delighted. Really so keen to be a father. This baby will want for nothing.”

“But you? How do you feel? You’re young, aren’t you? How old are you?”

“Twenty-three. It’s not that young.”

“I suppose. I don’t know why, but I think of you as younger. Look, I won’t beat about the bush.” Caro paused to add milk to her tea and take an initial sip. “You’re my sister-in-law. You’re family now. I want to ask you a straight question, and I want you to give me a straight answer.”

The ginger biscuit that had been halfway to Anna’s mouth paused in its journey. Her hand shook and she angled her head down, as if in anticipation of a blow.

“Do you think John is…well…all right?”

Anna looked up swiftly. She hadn’t been sure what to expect, but it hadn’t been that.

“How do you mean?”

“He’s my brother, Anna. We grew up together. I’m dreadfully worried about him. The man I saw

at the wedding—the man I’ve known since Saskia’s death—isn’t my brother. He isn’t John as I know him. I just don’t know what to do, Anna, or where to turn. I’m so afraid that something awful has happened to him. You know. Mentally.”

“Really? Is he really so different?”

“He was so much fun, Anna, so full of life and enthusiasm. And a real family man. He’d never go longer than a couple of weeks without dropping by or arranging a meet-up. Since Saskia died, I’ve seen him twice. Once at her funeral, once at his wedding. He pretended to be out of the country at Christmas, but he was here. We know he was.”

“Oh.” Anna had nothing to say to this.

“Grief is such a hard thing. Does he seem depressed to you?”

“No. I’m sure he isn’t depressed. He works so hard, all the time, and he has so much energy. I’ve never known anyone with even half his energy.”

“Really? Excessive amounts of energy, you’d say?”

“Yes, I suppose. He barely sleeps at all. He’s always working on his machine.”