‘I was just thinking of the girls and how lucky we are to have them,’ I say, placing a circular rubber mat under Chloe’s bowl to stop it sliding across the table. ‘And how lucky it is that you can spend time with them on days like today.’
‘I know, it’s great that at least one of us can be here for them,’ he says. ‘I’ll get Hannah to take lots of photos to show you this evening. By the end of it, you’ll feel like you’ve been there.’ He gives me a grin, as we both know I’ll have to sit and look at dozens and dozens of photographs as Hannah happily clicks away at anything and everything. I appreciate he’s trying to make me feel better and I resolve to stop feeling sorry for myself and to enjoy just having the time with Hannah this evening, regardless of what we do.
I can’t help feeling my mood dip a little as Alice comes into the kitchen. I wish she would put on the dressing gown Mum left her. I then immediately admonish myself for being a prude and sounding like some sort of Victorian maiden aunt. At least today she has a little pair of shorts on under the T-shirt, although I do mean little.
‘Hey, guys,’ she says. We exchange good mornings and how did you sleep niceties while she faffs around getting herself a coffee and toast. I make the most of Mum not being up yet and telling me to make my sister her breakfast. Alice sits down with us. ‘Are you going to work today, Clare?’
‘Yes, no rest for the wicked,’ I say, ignoring the glance at the kitchen clock Luke gives. Yes, I should be going now, but I’m hanging out as long as possible, on the pretext I need to help Chloe with her banana but, deep down, I know it’s because I don’t like Alice being alone with Luke.
‘Oh, Clare, I hope you don’t mind but I used your laptop last night,’ says Alice.
‘My laptop?’ I reply with surprise.
‘Yes. Mum said it would be okay.’ She looks uncertain. ‘Sorry, is that a problem?’
‘Er, no. I just didn’t realise Mum knew how to work it,’ I say.
‘Well, she wasn’t sure, but I know my way around a computer so it wasn’t a problem.’
‘Oh, right. It wasn’t locked or anything, then?’ I try to recall when I last used it and if I had shut it down properly. It’s password-protected and I’m sure Mum doesn’t know it. Then, I remember, I’d flicked it on at the weekend. At the party, to be precise. We’d stuck the memory card from Luke’s camera in to have a look at some of the photos he had taken. We’d put it on slide-show mode and left it running so everyone could have a look.
‘It was just on screensaver,’ says Alice. ‘It didn’t need a password.’
‘Yes, I do remember now. We used it at the party,’ I say. ‘Did you find what you needed?’
‘Sure. I just wanted to check my emails, that sort of stuff.’
‘Facebook and Twitter, I expect?’ says Luke with a rueful smile. He’s never one for social media himself, but he uses it for his work. I’m the same. In my job, I don’t want people knowing too much about me, although I do keep a low-key Facebook account, which I set up in case Alice ever tried to find me.
‘Oh, I don’t do social media,’ says Alice.
‘Well, that’s a first,’ says Luke. ‘Even Clare and I have accounts.’
Alice’s smile drops. ‘It was just something Daddy never approved of. I didn’t go against his wishes.’
‘Was he that bad?’ I ask gently. ‘That controlling? I knew he was like that with Mum, even though she’s never said outright, but I thought maybe he’d be different with you.’
‘Why would you think that?’ asks Alice.
‘Because he chose you,’ I say. ‘He chose to take you with him to America. Not me.’ A heavy silence descends the room.
‘Maybe because it was easier to take the younger child,’ suggests Alice. ‘I suppose a four-year-old would have less memories to cling onto than a nine-year-old.’
It’s a logical reason; one that I’ve thought of before but I’ve always felt there’s been more to it than that.
‘Hey, Babe, you’re going to be late,’ says Luke, breaking my thoughts. He gives me a comforting smile, knowing where my mind must be travelling.
I get up reluctantly. The weight of the conversation clings to me and the thought of the day ahead does nothing to cheer me. I have a Skype call with McMillan to discuss the likelihood of the other party dropping their case and settling out of court. Leonard is putting pressure on me to strike a deal with them so we can avoid all the press reporting. Somehow I don’t think it’s going to happen. McMillan needs to meet them halfway and he’s not in the frame of mind to do that. Stubborn fool, who thinks he’s some bloody mafia Don and totally untouchable.
‘What time is your Skype call?’ asks Leonard, popping his head around the door to my office, where Tom has just called in to see if I want anything from the deli across the road.
‘Not until after lunch.’
‘Do you need me to come in on it?’