Chapter 24
Chapter twenty-four
Dinner was a quiet affair. Gloria sat at the head of the table. Sloan chose to sit to her right, and Matty took the seat to her left. They kept snatching glances at each other, both trying to pretend the kiss hadn't happened—that it didn't mean anything, that it wouldn't happen again.
“I want to get a mobility scooter,” Gloria said as she stuck her fork into a tube of pasta.
Sloan glanced across at Matty, who held her gaze. “Your idea?”
“I may have mentioned it was something that might be useful.”
“A little dangerous, isn’t it?”
“Not really,” Matty replied.
Gloria clanged her fork down. “I can decide for myself, Joan.”
Matty pressed her lips together, watching Sloan’s jaw tighten as her hand disappeared under the table. It wasn’t her place to speak up, but the tension after the kiss was unmistakable now.
“I don’t think Sloan was saying anything different. She’s just worried about you,” Matty said.
“None of her business, or yours, what I spend my money on.”
Sloan set her napkin down too hard and pushed her chair back. “Excuse me.”
Matty watched Sloan leave the room. Gloria continued to eat as though nothing had happened.
“She cares about you, that’s all,” Matty said.
“I don’t recall giving birth to you,” Gloria said coldly. “You’re just the hired help.”
“Yes, I am—hired by her,” Matty said.
Gloria’s right shoulder lifted as she shrugged.
“She’s trying. Give her a break,” Matty said, standing and following Sloan.
A cursory glance at the lounge and kitchen showed Sloan wasn’t there.
Matty hovered at the foot of the stairs, uncertain. Was this really her place to be interfering?
She touched her lips, remembering the kiss. She wasn’t just staff—not tonight.
One by one, she climbed the stairs. Gloria’s room was at the front. The bathroom door stood open on the landing, along from two other doors, both closed.
Matty paused, thinking it through. Sloan wouldn’t want the room next to her mother. She’d want space.
So Matty crossed the landing and stopped at the door above the kitchen. It faced the garden, with a view from the window.
Her hand hovered, then she knocked gently, nerves fluttering in her stomach. “Sloan?”
No response.
“Tell me to go and I will. If you don’t, I’m coming in.” She gave it a moment. Then with no response, she did just that and found herself inside a room she wasn’t quite expecting.
White walls were adorned with contemporary artwork—brightly coloured paintings of naked women in intimate poses. A black metal four-poster bed sat against the far wall, complemented by dark furniture. Her feet sank into plush carpet.
Sloan was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the window, staring into the late-evening sun.
“Are you okay?”
Sloan straightened, shoulders back, chin up as she turned her head. “I’m sorry you had to witness that.”
Matty shrugged. “You should see my mother when she gets going.”
Sloan smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, her jaw working as she tried to keep her composure. “I think I’m going to call it a night.”
“You know she—” Matty stopped. It really wasn’t her place, was it? “She’s just frustrated that she can’t do the things she used to.”
Sloan nodded. “I know. And thank you for what you’re doing with her.” This time the smile looked genuine. “She’s happier than she’s ever been, despite still being so...” She left it unsaid. Her eyes held Matty’s again. “I think what happened earlier, between us, should remain just…a moment.”
Matty’s brows rose. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, words tumbling and colliding in her mind. In the end, she settled for. “That’s fine.”
“I’m having a contract drawn up. Properly. Professionally.” Sloan’s demeanour changed into business mode. “It’s a solid package. I think you’d be foolish not to accept it.”
“I’ll definitely consider it,” Matty said, trying to match the cool exterior now being thrust in her direction, but her voice wavered and gave her away. She took a step towards Sloan, who instantly retreated. “We should maybe talk about—”
“I’ve said all I have to say on the matter.”
“Okay. I guess I’ll leave you to it then.” She turned to leave and stopped, her hand resting on the door, pausing long enough for Sloan to maybe change her mind, to say something that stopped her from walking away, but it didn’t come.
Every stair felt like a mile. When she reached the bottom, she straightened herself up and then re-entered the dining room. The two plates of half-eaten food remained where they were. Gloria sat silently, chewing.
“Sloan is going to—”
“Sulk?” Gloria said when she’d swallowed the mouthful. “Of course she is. Doesn’t like not getting her own way. Never has.”
“Actually, I think—” It wasn’t her place, was it? “So, I’ll see you at eight, then. Good night, Mrs S.”
***
Sloan silently crept out of her room and watched from the top of the stairs as Matty sat on a step and pulled on her skates.
She gripped the banister, the urge to run downstairs and take back what she’d said tightening her chest. Instead, she held still, obeying that old instinct to protect herself. From what, exactly, she was no longer certain.
Since Maggie, she hadn’t allowed herself to open up to anyone. And yet, here was this woman—someone so far from her type on paper. Sloan was drawn to elegance, sophistication, professional polish, and to a woman who knew how to take what she wanted and leave it at only one night.
Matty was different.
Sloan knew nothing about her—not even her last name—and it didn’t seem to matter. Had she been so desperate to find someone to look after her mother, she’d allowed a virtual stranger into the house? Or was there something else at play—something she wasn’t ready to admit?
Earlier, it’d been the first time anyone had been invited to dinner, by Gloria or Sloan, in a very long time.
There’d been something there—the kiss, the brief hope of something more.
And then she’d let the practicalities of her mother win out and put a stop to anything further.
It was sensible, the right thing to do, and the least risky option.
She knew all of that, but being practical and reasonable meant putting herself last, once again.
As Matty stood and put on her jacket, she glanced up. Sloan stepped back as she did, moving out of sight. She held her breath, waiting for Matty to call her out, but the silence remained.
There was the sound of wheels rolling, then the gentle click of the door opening, snagging, and finally closing.
And Matty was gone.
Slowly, Sloan turned and returned to her room. She’d deal with the dining room later. She needed to reset first.
She didn’t want to deal with her mother, either.
***
Changing clothes had given her a few more minutes’ respite. The soft fabric against her skin felt comforting. She peered into the dining room, seeing the table still covered with the plates, glasses, and uneaten food.
She cleared it methodically, scraping plates and stacking them, carrying everything through to the kitchen, whilst trying not to think about Matty’s lips against her own, and the way Matty’s hands had gripped her waist, anchoring her close, wanting her.
The sound of the TV filtered through her thoughts and pulled her mind away from Matty.
When Sloan finished loading the dishwasher she checked the time—not quite nine.
She prepared her mother's evening routine of a glass of water for the sleeping tablets and a mug of hot chocolate. She put it all on a tray and carried it through to the lounge, silently placing it on the side table. Gloria barely looked up. Sloan paused, waiting for a thank you that didn’t come.
“I’d appreciate it if you would stop speaking to me like that in front of people and start calling me by the name I’ve asked you to use.”
Gloria scoffed. “I’ll do what I want. It’s my house.”
Sloan clenched her jaw, the anger rising, hot and choking in her throat.
“It’s my house,” she said defiantly. “I bought it to stop you from having to sell it and move into a care home. This is my house, but it’s your home, and while we live here together, you will stop treating me like I’m something on the bottom of your shoe. ”
Gloria sniffed at that reminder, adjusted her posture, but said nothing.
“I’ve put my life on hold to make sure you have everything you need, and you have systematically fought me at every step. You’re rude, inconsiderate, selfish, and often...cruel. And I don’t understand why.”
Sloan straightened fully, staring Gloria down and daring her to say otherwise.
“Finally, there is someone in this house who is somehow able to stand you, and I will not let you ruin it.”
The skin around Gloria’s lips wrinkled as she pursed them tighter.
“Because I promise you this—if you scare off Matty, or make her feel uncomfortable in any way… If I hear just a whisper of her wanting to leave because of you...” She held Gloria’s gaze. “I’ll ring St Margaret’s.”
Gloria gasped. “You wouldn’t.”
“Watch me,” Sloan said. She held her mother’s attention just a moment longer, then left the room—and left Gloria to her own thoughts about it all.
The sound of the TV didn’t drown out the echo of the front door closing. Gloria sat back and let her head rest against the softness of the armchair.
“Well,” she said aloud, the corners of her mouth curving up, “it’s about time you joined the world again, Sloan.”
She picked up the cup of hot chocolate and took a sip. The clock on the mantelpiece said it was almost time for bed, and she’d go up as soon as the film was over.