The Inheritance

‘Daddy! What are you doing back?’


Logan sauntered into the kitchen, looking more pre-teen than ever in a punk tutu skirt and skull and crossbones T-shirt teamed with high tops with the word ‘Grrrrrl’ emblazoned on the side in black sequins. Brett was taken aback by how pretty she was becoming, with her high cheekbones, dark eyes and long black hair flapping behind her like a trail of smoke.

‘I missed Mummy’s cooking,’ he said, kissing the top of her head. ‘Are you wearing perfume?’ he frowned.

‘No,’ lied Logan, making a hasty exit.

‘She was over at Wraggsbottom Farm after school, supposedly helping Laura with the chickens,’ Angela explained. ‘It’s her parent–teacher meeting tomorrow afternoon. Do you think we should say something to Max Bingley about the whole Gabe Baxter obsession?’

‘Absolutely not,’ said Brett firmly. ‘It’s a crush, not an “obsession”. And it’s none of Bingley’s business. Anyway, what do you mean “we”? There’s no way I can come. I’ve got far too much on at work.’

Logan, who’d suddenly reappeared in the doorway, heard the last part of Brett’s comment.

‘You’re not coming to my parents’ meeting?’ she pouted.

‘I can’t, pumpkin.’ Brett tried to sound conciliatory. ‘You know I’m not a big one for school events. Mum’ll be there, though. And if your grades are good, I’ll get you a toy from Hamleys. What Barbie are you after?’

‘Barbie?’ Logan curled her upper lip contemptuously. ‘I’m almost eleven years old, Dad. I don’t want a doll!’

‘Well, what do you want?’ asked Brett.

‘I want you to come tomorrow,’ said Logan. ‘I’m doing amazing with my reading.’

‘Amazingly,’ Angela corrected on autopilot.

‘Miss F-H says I’m the best pupil in my whole class and I’ve made the most progress.’ Her dark eyes shone with pride. ‘And I’ve got two stories – two – up on the wall in our classroom. No one else has that, not even Bertie and he’s like Dexter from Dexter’s Laboratory. That means he’s a total brainiac,’ Logan explained, seeing the blank look of incomprehension on her mother’s face.

In fact, Angela had tensed up, waiting for the mention of Tatiana to plunge Brett back into his usual angry, dark mood. But instead she heard him say in a calm, measured voice: ‘Miss F-H said that, did she? Hmmm. You know what, Logie? I will come tomorrow. As you’ve made such an effort.’

‘Really?’ Logan was as astonished as her mother by this turnaround. ‘Brilliant! Can I go and tell Jase?’

‘Of course.’

Once she’d gone, Brett pulled Angela into his arms and kissed her softly. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been in a bit of a funk lately.’ He stroked her hair. ‘Work’s been stressful, setting up the new office. And of course, this ruddy court case …’

‘I know,’ Angela said soothingly.

‘But I do love you.’

Looking into his eyes, the same eyes that had first met hers all those years ago across the counter of her father’s bakery, Angela could see that he meant it.

‘I love you too, Brett,’ she said, truthfully.

‘I’m gonna be around a bit more from now on. You know, for Logan. Do more family stuff.’

Angela smiled. That she would believe when she saw it.

Jason skipped dinner. When Logan told him Dad was home, he miraculously lost his appetite.

Afterwards, Brett went upstairs and found him in his bedroom.

‘I want a word with you.’ He closed the door behind him.

Jason said nothing, not moving from his reclining position on the bed, like a possum playing dead. As if by remaining still and closing his eyes he could somehow will his father away.

‘What did you say to Michelle the other day?’

There was an edge to Brett’s voice that made the hairs on Jason’s forearms stand on end.

‘Did you hear me?’ he said. ‘I asked you a question.’

‘Yes, I heard you,’ said Jason.

He wished he weren’t so afraid, so pathetically intimidated by his father. His own cowardice disgusted him. Number one hundred and twelve on the list of things he hated about himself.

‘Then answer me,’ said Brett. ‘What did you say to her?’

‘I didn’t say anything she didn’t already know,’ Jason answered cautiously.

‘Oh really? And what the hell do you know, may I ask?’ Brett erupted, unable to rein in his temper any longer. ‘You’re a twenty-year-old kid! You don’t know a damn thing. She gave in her notice today, do you realize that? One of the best secretaries I ever had quit a perfectly good job because of what you said to her.’

‘You’re blaming me?’ Jason’s eyes widened in disbelief.

‘Yes, I’m blaming you,’ said Brett. ‘Why wouldn’t I? You told her to quit.’

‘You’re the one who’s been sleeping with her!’ Jason blurted.

‘I have not,’ Brett hissed. ‘And keep your voice down, for Christ’s sake.’

Tilly Bagshawe's books