Chapter 3 #2
‘Sorry, mate. He’s been cooped up in the car for hours.’ He escorted the dog into the kitchen and I heard the back door open, more barking as Watson ran into the garden. I hoped Hamish wasn’t still out there.
I got to my feet as Holly came in, her sister, Miranda, beside her, and Zack returned from the kitchen, rolling his shoulders and rubbing the back of his neck, which made a crunching sound as he turned it from side to side.
Holly put her arm around me. ‘Miranda, Zack, this is Patrick.’
Zack’s handshake was so firm it hurt, and there was a musky smell coming off him. Holly had already explained to me that Zack worked for her dad as his chief operations officer. His right-hand man.
Miranda gave me the once-over, looking me up and down like a farmer assessing a sheep at a livestock auction.
‘Patrick what?’ she asked.
‘Tolhurst.’
She pulled a face, as if this meant nothing to her. And why would it? But then, as if realizing she was being rude, she said, ‘A pleasure to meet you, Patrick Tolhurst. A rare pleasure, in fact. Holly doesn’t usually let us meet her boyfriends. You’re the first one she’s ever brought here.’
‘Really?’ I raised an eyebrow at Holly. ‘You never told me that.’
‘None of the others were brave enough,’ Zack said, winking at me.
‘Or stupid enough,’ Miranda added.
‘Where’s Freddie?’ Holly asked, ignoring her.
This was Miranda’s twelve-year-old son, from her first marriage. Charles’s only grandchild.
‘He was with us for Christmas, but he’s spending New Year with his dad before he goes back to school.’
Miranda didn’t look much like Holly at all, apart from the gap they both had between their front teeth.
She was a brunette, average height, skinny.
Her brow was smooth – I immediately thought, Botox.
She was wearing what was undoubtedly a very expensive cashmere sweater, and diamond earrings.
She was only three years older than Holly but seemed at least a decade her senior.
It struck me, not for the first time, that Charles and Elizabeth had started their family extremely young.
Charles had been only twenty-two when Miranda was born, and Elizabeth a couple of years older.
Unusual by today’s standards, although I saw it as evidence that Charles was one of those people who had always known what he wanted.
He’d started Gravitas when he was just twenty-one, the same year he and Elizabeth had married.
Part of his story was that he hadn’t bothered with college.
He was quoted as saying he attended ‘the university of life’, renting a stall at Birmingham’s indoor market when he was a teenager, buying and selling computers and games consoles.
Zack said, ‘Holly didn’t want her dad to be the only one with a new partner in tow.’
Miranda groaned. ‘We’ve been here less than five minutes and you had to mention her already.’
‘You talked about pretty much nothing else in the car, darling.’
‘Nonsense.’
I wondered if Miranda had ever had a Birmingham accent. Holly still had the slightest trace of one, but Miranda sounded like she’d been brought up in Windsor – Windsor Castle, to be exact.
‘Have you met her?’ Holly asked. ‘Jasmine, I mean.’
‘You know I haven’t. Zack has, though, of course.
You know he was there when she and Dad met?
He says she’s lovely. “Very attractive.” Those were his exact words.
Although I’m having to use my imagination, seeing as Dad still hasn’t even shared a photo with anyone.
If Zack hadn’t met her I’d be wondering if she was a figment of Dad’s imagination. ’
Charles, I knew, didn’t use any form of social media, and despite owning a technology company, he wasn’t keen on smartphones.
He still used a twenty-year-old digital camera, apparently, and had a phone that Gravitas had developed in the mid-2000s, back when they were thinking about competing with Nokia and Motorola.
‘I still can’t believe you didn’t take a photo when you met her,’ Miranda said.
This was clearly not the first, second or even tenth time Zack had heard this. ‘What was I supposed to do? Say, Sorry, can I take your picture to show my nosy wife?’
‘Nosy? She’s going to be our new stepmother.’
Holly spluttered with laughter. ‘Stepmother! She’s younger than me!’
‘Ten years younger than Mum was when she passed. I don’t know how he could do this to us? What’s so special about her? She’s not even in our social circles. She works in a hotel. As a receptionist.’
I had to force myself not to laugh.
‘I’m afraid my wife is a massive snob,’ Zack said to me. ‘You do remember that I grew up on a council estate, don’t you, babe?’
She winced. ‘Please do not call me that. You’ve made something of yourself. Worked your way up. And I am not a snob.’
‘Some of your best friends are peasants.’
Miranda acted like she hadn’t heard this. ‘I suppose at least we should be grateful Dad had the snip after you were born, Holly. We don’t need to worry about, well …’
That was interesting. Their dad’s plan to remarry had made at least one of the Grant siblings worry about the impact on their inheritance, something Holly hadn’t mentioned to me at all.
As someone who stood to inherit nothing – possibly some debt and a few knick-knacks – I couldn’t help but think this was selfish. But it was also understandable.
‘I need a drink,’ Miranda said, heading towards the kitchen. ‘We should still have some bottles of that nice Beaujolais left.’
‘Are you hungry?’ Holly asked me. I was. ‘Lewis won’t be here for a couple of hours. Let’s go to the pub.’
We found our coats and went outside, Zack following us. I watched as he opened the boot of their Audi and hefted out a pair of Louis Vuitton cases.
‘Are you sure you don’t have any photos of Jasmine?’ Holly asked him before we got into our rental car. I could see Miranda through the kitchen window, opening a bottle of wine.
He smiled. ‘I don’t.’
‘But she’s hot, right? She must be.’
His expression was enigmatic. ‘You’ll find out tomorrow,’ was all he would say.