Absent in the Spring (The Shakespeare Sisters 3)
All work and no play was definitely making Lachlan an exhausted man.
‘So it’s all agreed, then?’ Cesca asked. ‘Thank goodness the home can take him, it’s going to be so much better for everybody.’
‘I still hate the idea of him being in a care home.’ Juliet screwed up her nose. ‘I just feel so… guilty, you know? Like I’m neglecting him. I haven’t seen him for more than two years.’
‘You’ve got nothing to feel guilty about,’ Lucy said. ‘None of you have. He wouldn’t want you to give everything up to take care of him. If anybody should be taking care of him it’s me. I’m the one who lives closest.’
A barrage of ‘No’s came through the laptop microphones. Lucy’s screen showed her three sisters all sitting in different parts of the world. Cesca was still in Budapest, where Sam was filming on location. If you looked close enough you could see the telltale signs of her hotel room – generic paintings on the walls, plain yet elegant bedding, not to mention the three suitcases in the corner of the screen.
Juliet, on the other hand, was sitting in her kitchen in Maryland, USA. Expensively modern and beautiful, and yet somehow soulless. Poppy was in the corner, colouring in her usual way – full of gusto. Thomas, Juliet’s husband, was nowhere to be seen.
Then there was Kitty. The baby of the family. She was sitting outside a coffee shop in LA, the morning sun illuminating her long, blonde curls. In her hand was a supersized insulated cup, and she was sipping on it as they spoke. She looked beautiful – and no wonder. Falling in love had been good for her.
‘So what about the house?’ Cesca asked. ‘Will the insurance let us keep it empty? We can’t rent it out while it’s got all that stuff in.’ They all knew their father was a hoarder.
‘I’ve spoken to a couple of companies that specialise in house clearance,’ Lucy told them. ‘I don’t think we should do anything until he’s settled, but after that we’ll have to look at selling it – we’ll need the money to pay for his care.’
‘It feels horrible, selling the family house,’ Kitty said. ‘Dad loves that place. So did Mum.’
Lucy glanced over to the side table, covered with a collection of family photographs in silver and black frames. On the left-hand side was a small black-and-white print of a tall, handsome man and a beautiful woman, laughing as they ran down the steps of the register office. Her mother was resplendent in a short, cream dress; their father wearing
a smart suit and perfectly knotted tie. It looked more like a vintage advert than a family snap.
‘We don’t have much choice,’ Juliet said quietly. ‘We want Dad to have the best care, and the house will pay for it.’ She swallowed, her voice lower still. ‘Anyway, it’s not as if he’s ever going to be able to live in it again, is it? He’s only going to get worse.’
That silenced them all for a minute. When Lucy glanced at the screen her sisters were all looking down.
‘We’re doing the best we can for him,’ Lucy finally said. ‘And that’s all we can do. I know it’s horrible, but at least this time we get to do it right.’
‘Of course we are,’ Cesca agreed.
‘Anyway, tell us about Budapest. Is the Danube as pretty as they say it is?’ Lucy asked. The change of subject was like a weight lifting from all their shoulders, and suddenly they were chatting again, their expressions softening as they exchanged news, talking about husbands and boyfriends , jobs and houses.
Lucy leaned back in her chair, surveying them all with a warm smile. She loved her sisters fiercely. Since she was fifteen years old, it had been her job to take care of them, to make sure they were happy.
To all intents and purposes, it still was.
9
My mother came into mine eyes
and gave me up to tears
– Henry V
There should be a car waiting for you in Miami. I’ve rescheduled tomorrow’s meetings, and cancelled your appointments. Give my best wishes to your mom. Grant
Lachlan skimmed the text then shoved his phone into his pocket, pulling his small, expensive case behind him as he walked into the airport arrivals lounge. Cabin-sized, it contained everything he’d had time to throw inside it, before racing to JFK Airport for the first flight he could get on.
It was eleven p.m. local time. Darkness had descended, lending Miami International a quieter atmosphere, suiting Lachlan’s mood completely. He strode across the tiled floor to the man holding the sign with his name on, nodding and allowing the driver to take his case as they walked out to the car.
A few minutes later they were pulling onto the freeway. The driver made a couple of half-hearted attempts to begin a conversation, but Lachlan’s replies were terse, almost taciturn. He preferred to stare out of the window, or check his messages to see if there were any updates from his mother’s nurse.
‘It’s the university hospital, right?’ the driver asked, pulling into the fast lane.
‘That’s right.’
‘I’m guessing it’s not a regular appointment at this hour.’