Chapter 35 #2
is all in long-term investments because he didn’t imagine he’d need to access it sooner. He said he never expected he’d meet
someone that he wanted to share his life with. Isn’t that sweet?” Cilla tittered. “Now I’ve put him in a whirl and totally
upended his plans. He’s had to give a year’s notice to get to his own money, can you believe, or he’ll be stung with the most
ridiculously heavy penalty fees.”
Flick could feel the cold wind edge into the room. She didn’t comment, leaving the silence clear for her mother to fill it.
“More gravy, dear?”
“Thanks, I’m fine, Mum.”
“There’s plenty of meat, so do tuck in.”
Flick hadn’t been invited here because her mother was missing her; there was something else afoot, she could tell. She didn’t
have long to wait for the big reveal.
“Felicity, darling, the money I deposited in your name for tax purposes, I wonder if you could transfer it back to me.”
It was said lightly, as if of no more importance than the surfeit of roast beef available for consumption.
Flick didn’t miss a beat. She cut up a slice of meat and put it into her mouth, chewed, swallowed.
“Did you hear me, Felicity?” Cilla’s voice, honeyed and sweet.
“I heard. You told me that was your emergency fund,” said Flick. “Under no circumstances was it to be accessed unless you
were either very ill or a disaster had occurred.” She cut more meat, chewed, swallowed.
“Things change, though, don’t they? I gave it to you for safekeeping until I needed it, and now I do.”
Flick registered the note of steel that had crept into Cilla’s voice, but still she answered, “No, Mum.”
“What do you mean, no ? It’s my money. Mine.”
“Not legally it isn’t. It’s in my name.”
Cilla gave an open-mouthed gasp of astonishment. “You’ve spent it, haven’t you?”
Flick gasped in turn at the accusation. “I haven’t touched a single penny of it.”
“And that’s because you know it’s mine.” Cilla’s volume was rising, the honey replaced by acid.
“Yes, but you told me to keep it safe for a dire emergency.”
“It’s mine and I want it. Now. You will kindly transfer it to me with immediate effect.”
“I kindly won’t.” Flick put down her fork. The food had stopped tasting good now anyway.
“Felicity Charlesworth, do not cross me.”
“Mum, you told me that unless you were—”
“ Give me my money .” Cilla dropped her cutlery onto the plate with an angry clatter.
“No.” Flick more than matched her mother in sound level. “You just want it to give to him, and I’m going to make sure that
you have at least something left for when you realize he’s bled you dry.”
“How dare you?” Cilla’s face was screwed up now and very red.
“You’ll thank me one day.”
“You little shit. You think you can tell me what to do. You think you’re in charge here, do you?” Cilla was screaming now.
Flick had never seen her mother this angry before. She looked demonic. “Mum, I think you should calm down.”
“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down. Who’s put you up to this? Marielle, I suppose—ha? Yes, I’ll bet. I suppose she’s been dripping poison
into your ear about me, telling you I’m stupid and that I haven’t got a brain to think with, the frustrated, shriveled-up
cow.”
Flick had no idea where all this vitriol was coming from. “Mum, Auntie Marielle hasn’t said a—”
“She’s not your auntie!” shrieked Cilla. “She’s a dried-up old bag who has got no right to tell anyone else how to run their life. She’s
jealous of me; she always has been. It’s colored our whole relationship, Miss High and bloody Mighty. How can she of all people
have the nerve to dictate to me? If she were such a good judge of character, she wouldn’t let people into her home— her own home —who rob her blind. And she keeps doing it; she doesn’t learn any lessons. What sort of idiot does that make her? They keep
taking advantage of her, like that bloody woman there now. Ha!”
“Sabrina, you mean?” said Flick. “She’s not like that; she’s lovely.”
“Lovely, is she?” snarked Cilla. “I bet your auntie Marielle didn’t tell you that lovely Sabrina had the barefaced cheek to steal her purse from under her nose and then deny it when it couldn’t have been anyone else.
No, I bet she didn’t, and she’s so weak and pathetic that she’s still letting her stay in the flat because she’s beyond dense, because she’s frightened what people would say if they knew. And
she really thinks she knows better than me?”
The words hung in the air, long tails on them. The hush broken by a single note of disbelief, a small sound from Flick’s throat.
“That’s not true,” she said eventually.
Cilla realized her mistake immediately. What if Marielle hadn’t said anything to anyone about the missing purse?
Cilla then couldn’t have known. But the thought was quickly dismissed, because Marielle didn’t keep anything from her friends, especially Sylvie, and she could blame the leak on them.
But just in case, she should cover herself.
“You absolutely must not say a word; I was told this in strictest confidence,” Cilla said. “You must swear to me you will
forget this conversation happened.”
Flick had been brought up to know that you didn’t break a holy swear. Her mother, in spite of her faults, was God-fearing
at heart. Or sort of. She believed that if you went to church for the communions, believed in Christ, prayed before bedtime,
and always took swearing on the Bible seriously, you would glide up to heaven one day on a golden escalator.
“Your auntie Marielle would be destroyed if this got out.” Cilla threw a little emotional blackmail into the mix for good
measure. “I’m sorry if I overreacted. It’s only because I’m frustrated by her too-trusting generosity. So mean it when you
swear.”
“I swear,” said Flick, her voice wobbly. Her heart was beating in her chest, a horrible mix of adrenaline and disappointment.
She felt rocked, disorientated, as if someone had pulled the whole floor from under her.
“Now let’s continue on a new footing without talk of money—yours, mine, or otherwise. I wanted to have a pleasant lunch with
my daughter and it’s taken a sour turn. I’m sorry that we let other people spoil it. Have some cauliflower cheese; I don’t
want any wastage.”
It would wait, thought Cilla, picking up the dish and handing it to Flick. If her money was safe with her daughter, she’d
get it later. For now she had to concentrate on erasing this conversation from history.