“All right, but not over the phone. I owe you an apology. Let’s meet up for lunch at Iguana—it will be my treat, given my behavior. Besides, it’ll be the last one we have together for a while.”
“I won’t say no; I’m starving! When?”
“In an hour? Can you do that?”
“Totally. See you soon.”
I hung up the phone and stared at the floor as it finally hit me that Chloe was leaving. That she wouldn’t be here next week; wouldn’t be a phone call away, a quick chat, a lunch date, an evening out. And I didn’t know if I would cope without her, especially given recent developments.
7
Brydie
Even though it was Sunday afternoon, Iguana was crowded. Tables and chairs were squashed in every inch of space inside the large rectangular room, spilling out onto the sidewalk of the main street in town. Chloe was sitting at our usual spot, close to the open bay doors that adjoined the sidewalk.
I smiled when I saw her. She looked very chic, dressed in a skin-tight black mini with scarlet red heels and a matching fluffy red crop top. Her long black hair was sleek and straight, her brown eyes luminous. Most of the room had its eyes on her, and she knew it. She didn’t look as though she’d had a hard night out last night—far from it.
In contrast, I knew I looked pale and wan, dressed in a casual, soft cotton checked shirt and jeans. I’d tied my hair back in a rough ponytail, unable to face taming the beast it had become overnight. As I walked toward Chloe, I couldn’t help reflecting on how far she’d come.
We met in our first year of high school. It became obvious fairly quickly during a Parents’ Day that she was the only foster kid in the class. Chloe had been on her fifth family, a couple in their mid-fifties who’d been unable to have kids of their own. At the age of six, she’d lost her parents and younger sibling in a tragic fire and been in the system ever since.
Chloe was extroverted, outgoing, sociable—everything I wasn’t. But I recognized something inside her, something that resonated with me. And I understood very quickly that she had a front, hiding herself behind exuberant confidence. That vulnerability was something we both had. That commonality was enough to see past our differences, and our friendship had given us a confidence we’d both needed.
Catching sight of me, Chloe raised her hand and beckoned me over, pulling me into a tight embrace.
“How are you feeling? You look tired.”
“I feel it.”
I couldn’t help noticing the tension around Chloe’s eyes, the frown on her brow. I knew I had caused it. “I really am sorry about last night.”
Chloe reached out and squeezed my arm. “I’m just glad you’re okay, babe. But I demand to know what’s going on.” She sat down, gesturing to the empty seat in front of her. “Tell me.”
I took the seat, glancing at the menu. “Have you ordered?”
She waved a hand. “The usual—vegan pizza for you, black coffee and a salad for me. Now, stop procrastinating and tell me!”
I sighed, acknowledging that nothing was going to perturb her. “I met someone yesterday. A family friend. Someone who knows Nora. He came to tell me that she—” I paused, my chest tightening.
“What?” demanded Chloe. “Nora what?”
“She died.”
Chloe’s mouth dropped open. “I wasn’t expecting you to say that!” She leaned across the table and took my hand. “I’m sorry, Brydie. I know she was a horrid bitch, but she was your grandmother. It’s okay to feel sad, babe.”
I blew out a breath. “But that’s just it. I’m not sad—I’m angry! I’ve been through the heartache of losing her already; when she made it clear that she didn’t want anything to do with me. Now I have to go through it all again, except this time she’s gone for good!”
Chloe squeezed my hand. “I understand, babe. It’s real this time. Final.”
I nodded, trying to control my emotions. The lady at the next table was already eying me up. “That’s not the only news, either—she’s left me the family Estate in Scotland.”
“The castle in Scotland?” gasped Chloe, eyes popping wide. “Unreal! What are you going to do with it?”
“Nothing. I’m not accepting it.”
She squealed. “Brydie, stop it! Course you can, honey—this is your ticket! You’re her last living relative. It’s yours by right!”
I shook my head firmly. “She was never my relative, Chloe—not after what she did.”
Chloe paused, her eyes locked on mine. “All right, babe. I know you think you’ve made up your mind, but you should seriously think about this. Don’t rush into it! This could be your ticket to financial freedom! No mortgage, no bills—imagine that. You should drop your studies and swan around Europe with me for six months.”
I gave her a small smile. “Sounds like a lovely plan, but my conscience won’t allow me to do that.”
“Who’s going to get the castle then? The government?”
I shook my head. “Gage could have it, I suppose.”
“Who’s Gage?”
I blinked. “A close family friend, apparently. He brought me the news about Nora.”
Chloe cocked her head to the side, contemplating my reaction. “Is he hot?”
My cheeks instantly flamed. I hid my response by ducking my head, fiddling with my napkin. “Depends what you define as hot.”
“Oh, do tell!” drawled Chloe.
At that moment, the waitress arrived with our food, and I was saved from answering. Chloe immediately tucked into her salad while I picked disinterestedly at my pizza. My stomach churned, and I still felt shady, although my pounding headache had subdued to a dull throb.
“You’re shaken up by all this, aren’t you?” Chloe asked in between a forkful of salad.
I stopped trying to pretend I was hungry and put my slice of pizza down. “Since I heard the news yesterday, it’s been dredging up all the old memories,” I admitted.
Chloe stilled, her fork halfway to her mouth. “Of when she left? Oh, babe, that was three years ago now. It’s not worth your time. You got to let that go.”
“That’s the thing, I can’t! She hurt me when she left. It’s like I mourned her death back then! And now I hear that she’s really gone, I’m just so angry with her. Is that normal?”
“Of course it’s normal—she abandoned you. But she was also your last living relative. I’d be upset about losing her, too.”
I nodded past the lump in my throat. I was trying my hardest to close off the memories, but they kept trying to emerge. As I stared down at my pizza, the toppings swirled and faded as those last few moments spent with Nora resurfaced in my mind.
Nora countersigned my parents’ will under my name, then handed the papers back to the solicitor. I had barely taken notice of the content, grateful that Nora had offered to attend to the legal side of things following my parents’ deaths.
The solicitor gathered up the signed documents. “Once I’ve lodged these papers, it should take a few days for the money to be deposited into your accounts. As previously agreed, approximately half of the estate will go into Brydie’s trust account, and the remaining half will be wired into your Scottish account within two days.”
My brow wrinkled. I looked at Nora. “Wired into your Scottish account?” I repeated. I didn’t think Nora had been a recipient.
Nora ignored my query, thanking the solicitor for his work before sweeping us both out of his office. When we hit the sidewalk, I rounded on her. “Why is he wiring money into your Scottish bank account? I thought you had set up a bank account in New Zealand?”