Chapter 19
Chapter nineteen
Sloan was still on a high. The meeting had gone well, Boston was back online, and she was feeling hungry. She glanced at her watch and realised she'd missed lunch.
Grabbing her purse, she got up and headed out of her office.
"Dawn, I'm taking lunch. Hold all calls unless it's about my mother, then switch them through to my mobile."
"Yes, Ms Slater, of course."
"Also, call Jerry and find out when I will be getting the report back from him. I expected it days ago."
"Absolutely, Ms Slater." Dawn scribbled down the instruction.
Without another word, Sloan slid on her sunglasses and left. She took the stairs down—it was at least some exercise, she considered. Out into the high street, she felt the heat of the sun hit her face, warming her.
It was a beautiful day, to say the least.
She'd considered Compton's for a sandwich but then rethought that, as it felt somewhat disloyal to Matty, especially when she’d been the cause of Matty’s employment decision.
Instead, she swung around and headed for Banjo.
As she walked, Sloan glanced into shop windows and stopped here and there to look at something that caught her eye; something she might buy at a later date—lingerie she’d like to wear for… She stopped her thoughts—that wasn’t a path she could go down.
Then something else caught her eye in the reflection—a blur of familiar blonde curls and a wheelchair flying through the square at a speed most would consider risky, which she absolutely would, too. It was her job, after all, to assess such things.
She slowly turned and tried to absorb the scene in front of her, watching her mother, one good arm raised into the air, being pushed across the square towards the fountains by Matty, laughing and gliding behind on those dreadful skates.
"What on earth…"
She marched after them, almost barging into a man in a tracksuit that looked like it had seen better days and was hanging halfway down his backside. "Sorry," she mumbled, as he grumbled at her to watch where she was going.
Sloan kept moving.
It took several minutes to catch up, her heels no match for the two sets of wheels going full pelt across the concrete.
"What the hell is going on?" she said as she finally managed to catch up to them now they'd come to a halt. Gloria was unbuckling her seatbelt as Matty leaned down to lift the footplates out of the way so Gloria could stand.
"Oh, Joan," Gloria said, half turning, wobbling, and going down on her knees before Matty could catch her properly.
"Mother!" Sloan exclaimed and rushed forward. "This is why she doesn't leave the house!" she shouted at Matty. "What were you thinking?"
"Get me up," Gloria demanded. Back on her feet, Matty offered the cane, which she took. "Thank you."
Turning to Sloan, Matty said, "It was a nice day, and we thought we'd get out of the house, didn't we, Mrs S?"
"Yes, we did. Because we're adults who can make those decisions, Joan."
Sloan ignored Gloria. "I am not paying you to go waltzing around on those," she asserted as she pointed to the skates, "and injuring my mother in the process."
Matty nodded, letting Sloan vent before she calmly said, "Take a breath, Sloan, and look at Gloria."
"What?"
"I said to look at your mother. Who do you see?"
Sloan stared at her, then at her mother, then back at Matty. "I don't understand the question."
Gloria piped up, "She sees a frail, old, broken woman incapable of doing anything."
"That's not—" Sloan turned back to her mother and finally saw it—the makeup, the summer dress, the effort. "I… You…"
"She looks fabulous, don't you agree?" Matty said.
"Yes, of course, but…" she stuttered, pointing to the wheelchair. "You were going too fast."
"We were having fun," Gloria said. "And now I'm tired. Take me home," she said to Matty.
Matty shrugged. "Gotta go. I'm gullibly relying on her telling me what she wants to do, so…"
"Right. Well, we'll discuss this later," Sloan said, watching Gloria sink back into the chair. "And take her to the minor injuries unit to check that knee out."
"Oh, give over, Joan, it's a scrape. I'll live." Gloria waved her off and dug into her bag for a handkerchief, licking it and then dabbing it against the small graze.
"I'll see you tonight," Sloan hissed at Matty, but they were already gone and out of earshot.
***
Sloan strode back into the office, jaw set, her heels striking the floor with a little more force than usual. She barely acknowledged Dawn’s greeting.
“Hold all calls,” she said, voice clipped. “Unless it’s Boston or my mother, I’m not to be disturbed.”
“Yes, Ms Slater.”
She closed her office door with a decisive click, dropped her bag on the desk, and stood for a moment, staring out at the street below.
Shoppers were going about their business, oblivious to her inner turmoil.
Her reflection in the glass was as immaculate as ever—hair smooth, suit perfect, not a trace of the chaos from earlier.
She pressed her lips together, willing her pulse to slow.
She’d lost control. In public. Again.
Her mother had fallen. Matty had—what? Shrugged it off, as if it were nothing? And Gloria, stubborn as ever, had sided with her. Of course she had.
Sloan turned away from the window and dropped into her chair. She picked up her pen and began flicking through the stack of reports on her desk with icy precision. Work was safe. Work was controllable.
But as she tried to focus on the words in front of her, the image of her mother—rouge on her cheeks, summer dress, laughing—kept intruding, refusing to be banished. For a moment, Sloan’s hand stilled.
Something had been changing lately. Something unexpected.
She dropped the pen back onto the desk and sat back in her chair.
She'd been so angry—no, scared—and in that fog she'd missed what was really happening; hadn't seen the important details until they'd been pointed out to her.
Her mother was right.
She’d laid out exactly how Sloan saw her now: old, broken, frail. When had Gloria Slater gone from being vibrant and alive, to just a hollow version of herself?
And what else had she missed? Her mother had sided with Matty? Siding with a carer? For the first time, Gloria had someone on her side—and she liked it that way, didn't she?