The Legacy Caroline Bond (best e book reader for android .txt) 📖

but he and Liv had avoided spending much time in it even back in the day, preferring the garden, irrespective of the weather. In hindsight, it struck Noah how often their mother used to come up with plans for them to take themselves off, out from under her feet. At the time it had seemed like encouragement to explore and play, but as an adult he wondered whether her gift of freedom was rooted more in her own need for time to herself than in her desire for them to have adventures. After the failure of the ‘playroom’ scheme, the room had briefly become a study for his dad, but again it was rarely used for the same reasons: the lack of light and a view. Latterly it had been billed as a guest room – though how many guests ever visited the house after the break-up of his parents’ marriage, Noah didn’t know. Very few, he guessed. Many of his dad’s friends never set foot in The View again after they heard about Jonathan’s choice of his mistress over his wife, proving that loyalty was alive and well, at least outside the confines of the Coulter family.

The sound of a door opening and closing downstairs pulled Noah back to the present and the task in hand.

Their inheritance.

There was no point being squeamish about it. Over the next forty-eight hours he and his sisters got to play God, deciding not only their own futures, but also those of Megan and his mother.

He straightened up.

Let battle commence.

Chapter 14

EVEN WITH the door shut, Megan could still hear their voices, but at least they were muffled, pushed into the background – where they belonged. She pressed her back against the wood, shutting them out and her in. She left the light off. Moonlight flooded in from the garden. A monochrome wash. It seemed appropriate that everything appeared colourless.

The room was exactly as it had been the night Jonathan died. No one, except her, had set foot inside it since the undertakers had removed his body. And that was the way she wanted it. Lisa had offered to come in and clear up, but Megan had stopped her, saying it could wait. And wait it had, frozen in time, there for her whenever she chose to step backwards.

Tonight was one of those times, when she needed the past, not the present. When she needed him, not them.

But she was worried, because she was aware that even her ownership of this confined, sad space, this last piece of Jonathan, was going to be wrested from her over the coming days – just like everything else.

They were here to take their father back.

She took the desk key from her pocket, unlocked the top drawer and lifted out the box. The simple act of holding it in her hands brought her some comfort. She climbed onto the bed and pulled the duvet up around her. Wrapped in solitude, she travelled back to the morning after Jonathan’s passing.

It was pitch-black outside, death and darkness made sense, but as the clock on the cooker ticked over to 6.07 a.m., Megan was forced to accept that although Jonathan was gone, life went on – even for her. The dawning of another day demanded some sort of response, but what, she couldn’t fathom. She found herself sitting at the kitchen table, in her dressing gown, her stomach full of cold tea and adrenaline – though when Lisa offered to make her another brew, she still said ‘yes’. It was something to do. She watched Lisa moving around the kitchen, completely at home. Before long there was yet another mug of tea in front of Megan, along with a plate of toast. Mechanically she picked up a slice and took a bite. Salty butter and warmth. She took another bite, washed it down with hot tea, forced herself to say something.

‘Do you know where Chloe is?’ Chloe had refused to come and say goodbye to her father – perhaps refused was too harsh; been unable to. Megan dimly thought she should go and check on her. His family, they were her responsibility now.

Lisa was leaning against the kitchen cabinets, nursing her own tea. ‘I think she’s still in her room.’

Megan didn’t shift. She couldn’t summon up the momentum to move on to the next stage – which she assumed was telling other people Jonathan was gone. ‘What do I need to do?’ She had no one else to ask, no experience of what had to be done after someone died. Lisa did.

‘Nothing. Not straight away. Eat your toast.’

So Megan found herself doing just that: taking small bites, chewing, swallowing, sipping her tea, while Lisa stood guard. Before long the plate was clear. Lisa seemed to take that as a sign. ‘May I?’ She pointed at a chair.

‘Sorry, yes. Of course.’ How rude to leave Lisa standing there. She must be tired as well – it had been a long night. She should have gone home hours ago, yet here she was, making herself useful, as always.

Lisa sat down opposite Megan and placed her mug carefully on the table. ‘I know it’s little comfort, but it’s good that the doctor has already issued the death certificate. It simplifies things. You’ll have take it to the Register Office to register Jonathan’s death. It’s quite straightforward. You have to do it within five days of the certificate being issued, so you have time.’

‘I meant more that I need to start ringing people. Noah and Liv. I have to tell them their father has died.’

‘Yes, you do.’ Lisa paused and Megan wondered if she was speculating on how difficult those conversations were going to be, given the state of her relationship with Jonathan’s children. Lisa had been around long enough to see how strained things were, and not just with Chloe. ‘I know it sounds hard, but once it’s done, it’s done. And they can contact the wider family. It’s better to share the