LUCY
The room was dark; she needed the torch on her phone to see Rory. He was lying on the massage bed with his eyes closed, a thick bandage covering one side of his face. As she closed the door behind her, Rory startled and lifted the torch next to him, flashing its beam in her eyes; she shielded them.
‘Mmm? That sounds ominous … especially on our holiday. If it’s work-related, we can just pick it up back in the office next week, surely?’
‘Goodness,’ he said. ‘What on earth got you thinking about that while we’re in the middle of the ocean on the other side of the world? That deal was done and dusted, what – two, three years ago? It was way before your time.’
‘Really? Where’s that, then? Who’s doing the development, did it say?’
Damn. She should have anticipated he’d ask that. ‘Gosh, I can’t remember – sorry …’
Rory made a huffing sound. ‘I’ll have to see if I can find the article.’
‘Anyway,’ Lucy continued, ‘it got me thinking about what actually happens to all the people – the patients, I mean – somewhere like that, when they’re bought out.’
There it was again: the rise of Rory’s shoulders; the twitch at his jawline. He didn’t want to talk about this deal, or be reminded of it.
Rory sighed. ‘The residents are all moved somewhere else perfectly adequate for their needs, with financial compensation to boot. That’s what happened at Willowbrook, and it’s what will happen in whatever this latest deal is too.’
Lucy spoke slowly. ‘And you’re … sure about that? That all those people were … properly taken care of?’
Rory tutted. ‘For goodness’ sake, Lucy. Why on earth are you bringing this up now? Can’t this wait? I’ve just taken quite a bump to the face, and I’ve got more than enough to be dealing with already …’
Lucy shook her head. ‘No. I’m sorry, Rory. It can’t wait.’
She put the phone right in his line of vision.
Muttering something under his breath, Rory squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again.
‘If you insist on me looking at this now, you’ll at least have to zoom in, Lucy.
I’m afraid my eyesight isn’t what it used to be, and I don’t have my reading glasses with me. ’
Suppressing an eye-roll, Lucy pinched the screen with her fingers to enlarge the picture, then held it back out towards him. She watched as his eyes took in the person in the photo; he flicked her a confused look. ‘Ah … who’s this?’
‘It’s my brother. His name is Alfie. He has severe disabilities and needs lifelong care.’
Rory licked his lips, then reached to the shelf near his bed for a bottle of water. He took a sip and swallowed, his beady eyes fixed on Lucy’s the entire time.
‘I see,’ he said slowly. ‘And does this – does Alfie – have something to do with Willowbrook?’
Oh, well done. Slow clap for you, Rory. ‘Yes. Alfie was one of the residents. After your deal saw him turfed out with nowhere to go, he became so distressed he attacked my mum and injured himself to the point of being sectioned. He’s still on a psychiatric ward.’
The memory of that Thursday was forever marked on Lucy’s brain.
She’d been at work – she knew how bad things were and should have moved back home with Mum, but she didn’t want to, couldn’t face it.
She’d never forgive herself for that. Alfie was so distraught that afternoon: he was smashing things in the kitchen, and Mum couldn’t calm him down.
She called Lucy, who’d left work straight away, but by the time she got there, it was too late.
There were already three ambulances outside.
When she stepped through the door to the kitchen, it looked like a murder scene.
There was blood everywhere, on the walls and the floor and the worktops.
Alfie had thrown a dining chair at Mum’s head with all his strength – the bleeding inside her brain was so severe that she’d never recovered.
It affected her like a stroke – she needed daily care at home.
And Alfie … Alfie had been locked up ever since.
The colour drained from Rory’s face. ‘Well, that’s – unfortunate,’ he stuttered. ‘I remember the attempted lawsuits, of course. And I was very sorry to hear any families had suffered. But of course, none of it was my fault. I can’t be responsible for the welfare of every single person who—’
‘But that’s exactly what you were supposed to be,’ Lucy interjected.
‘Responsible for making sure all the residents found suitable new placements. And you didn’t do that.
You did the opposite – abandoned them, forced them to leave their home in the early hours one morning, with nowhere to go – after everything you promised them. ’
Rory shook his head. ‘I don’t think you’re quite understanding the nuance of these sorts of deals, Lucy.
’ You patronizing piece of shit. ‘I did nothing wrong. It was all by the book, and I did my absolute best to get everyone into alternative placements – but towards the end, the investor was breathing down my neck, putting a great deal of pressure on me. I tried to—’
‘Oh, you tried, did you? I’m sure all the devastated families of vulnerable residents will be so pleased to hear that.’
Rory looked shamefaced; he fell silent. He watched Lucy curiously for a moment – and then abruptly, his eyes darkened.
‘Tell me, Lucy. When exactly did you become aware of Ashworth’s involvement in this deal?
’ Realization dawned on his features. ‘I knew it – I knew I recognized you at your interview! I saw you one day at Willowbrook, didn’t I? ’
Lucy shrugged, not wanting to give Rory the satisfaction of an answer.
She remembered it well enough. Two days before Alfie was forced out, she’d been at Willowbrook with Mum – packing his things, explaining to him what was going to happen, trying to prepare him.
Rory had been swanning around the building with the team of architects they’d hired for the job.
He’d popped his head around the door to Alfie’s room, then winced when he’d seen Alfie in there, rocking backwards and forwards in distress at the sound of unfamiliar voices. Lucy had hated him at first sight.
Rory’s lip curled. ‘I told you, I never forget a face. I hope you didn’t join the company under false pretences, Lucy – that would be a case for immediate dismissal.’
Lucy laughed bitterly. ‘Do you think I give a damn about my job at your rotten, corrupt company? Go ahead – fire me. No, I tell you what, I’ll make it easy for you. Here you go: I quit.’
Rory frowned. ‘I see,’ he said. ‘I’ll be sorry to see you go, but if that’s what you want.’ He lifted his shoulders to his ears. ‘I’m not sure what you were trying to achieve, though, telling me all this.’
Lucy narrowed her eyes. ‘Isn’t it obvious?
I want money for Alfie’s care – for a suitable residential home that matches Willowbrook’s facilities, covered for the rest of his life.
But that’s not enough. I want all of the families’ care costs covered.
And I want you to go on the record, publicly, and admit you messed this up and let all the residents down.
I want this to be a lesson to other developers, that they can’t get away with this sort of behaviour.
That they have to be held responsible for the damage they cause. ’
Rory laughed; a short, cruel bark. ‘Dear, oh dear. Now listen here, young lady. There’s not a chance in hell I’ll be agreeing to any of that.
Any money for this deal is long gone, and I certainly won’t be risking Ashworth’s reputation for you, or anyone!
I’ve said I’m sorry. I won’t allow whatever happened to your …
your … violent, mentally retarded brother to affect my reputation and my business! ’
A red haze of rage blurred Lucy’s vision. Her beautiful, gentle baby brother – reduced to ugly, shaming words in this ugly, shameful man’s mouth.
‘Alfie isn’t violent,’ she said, her voice trembling. ‘And he’s not retarded. He’s disabled – and he’s ten thousand times the man you’ll ever be.’
Shaking with fury, her eyes landed on a pair of scissors on the table – Johanna must have been using them earlier to cut Rory’s dressing. They were only a few inches away from her.
It would be so easy.
I could cut his throat. I could wipe him off the face of the earth.
I could reduce him to nothing, just like he did Alfie …
She reached over and clasped her fingers around the handles.