Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
LIANE
I’ve spent all night thinking about phoning the number on the note, so much so that I didn’t get anywhere near as much sleep as I had been hoping for.
That might be my own fault, but it’s not stopping me from feeling sorry for myself as I see the sunlight filtering round the edges of the curtains and realise a new day has dawned.
But if only sleepiness was the worst of my worries. That would actually be a luxury.
Frederik has already left, going back to work after his impromptu ‘sick day’, though his days in that office are numbered now and he couldn’t be happier about it.
Neither could I. I have already given my notice of resignation to my employer and they know I won’t be back, quickly replacing me with some other poor person who is as desperate for money as I once was.
Now I have my freedom, but Frederik isn’t quite there yet.
He has to serve his notice period, but it is underway and I’m so glad he won’t be leaving me for forty hours a week soon.
Instead, we’ll get to enjoy each other’s company a lot more, like any married couple should.
But for now, I have enough to occupy me.
Taking the note out of the bedside table where I safely stored it overnight, I put it in my jeans pocket after getting dressed before going downstairs.
Neither Joel nor Haven is out of bed yet, but there’s no mess in the kitchen, so that’s one positive.
I decide to leave them both a note of my own and scribble down on a piece of paper what my plans are for the day so they know where I am if they wake up and wonder.
Then I leave the house and begin the familiar walk to my late mother’s property.
It only takes fifteen minutes to get from my home to hers, and I always liked how the two of us were close geographically, as well as close in so many other ways.
One of us would often call around to visit the other and it’s going to be weird knowing that Mum can’t just make this same walk to my place that I am making to hers now.
My reason for going to her house is because it needs to be cleared out before it can be sold and I know it’s going to be a big task, so I’m planning on getting started today.
I can’t say I’m looking forward to it, but I’d also be lying if I said it wasn’t providing me with a welcome distraction as I continue trying to pluck up the courage to call the number on Haven’s note.
I will do it today, I tell myself. I just need a little more time to figure out what I will say.
Reaching Mum’s house, I take out the spare key I’ve always had for this place before taking a deep breath and slotting it into the lock. This will be the first time I have been back here since the day she died and I’m not looking forward to this experience at all.
As I push the door open, I hear several letters being dragged across the doormat, evidence of the post that has already accumulated here in the short time since the owner of the property has been gone.
It’s just a brief reminder of how life goes on and no matter how or when someone dies, the trusty postman still completes his rounds, totally oblivious to the fact that someone he is delivering to is now dead.
I pick up the mail before closing the door, feeling the cool air in here that is another sign of how uninhabited this place has been recently.
If Mum had been here, she would have turned the heating on and kept it warm, but there is a distinct chill now and it’s not helping me feel any more comfortable.
I pass the foot of the stairs as quickly as I can because I can’t bear to look or linger at the spot where Mum died after she fell.
Instead, I rush into the kitchen, where I put the post down before turning the heating on and then making myself a cup of tea.
Mum always kept the cupboard well stocked with teabags.
Once I have made my drink, I’m feeling a little bit better.
‘Let’s get started,’ I say under my breath as I head upstairs to get a better idea of the task ahead of me.
I open the hatch to the attic and lower the wooden ladders before climbing up and poking my head through the hole.
When I do, I see all sorts of things in the dusty darkness up here, from Christmas decorations to photo albums to dozens and dozens of boxes full of currently unknown items. All of this will need to be sorted through and eventually removed from this house before any new owners can move in, and I’m already regretting coming here alone rather than enlisting the help of a family member.
Maybe I should save this for the weekend and come back with Frederik.
Scott might help too. Maybe even Joel, if he’s not busy with Haven.
As it is, I’m on my own for now, so I locate a couple of empty boxes in the attic and take them down to start packing some items in the bedrooms.
I’m so engrossed in my work that I fail to hear the front door open downstairs. I hadn’t locked it, but then I hadn’t assumed anyone else was coming. That’s until I hear my son’s voice calling up the stairs.
‘Mum? Are you in here?’
‘Joel?’ I say as I leave one of the spare bedrooms to look down the stairs at where my youngest child is standing. Unlike I just was, he’s not alone. Haven is with him. Obviously.
‘Hey, Liane,’ she says with a smile, though it may not be the most genuine one I’ve ever seen.
‘Hey,’ I reply, a gesture that’s not particularly heartfelt either.
‘What are you doing here?’ I ask Joel once that enthusiastic greeting is complete.
‘We found your note saying you were here and thought we’d come around to see if you needed any help,’ Joel says, and that sounds like a helpful thing to do. Or at least it would if it didn’t involve Haven being in this house too.
‘Oh, I see,’ I reply, noticing how Haven’s eyes are already looking around, seemingly inspecting this place that she has just wandered into.
‘So, do you want some help?’ Joel asks, and I can hardly say no considering the size of the task ahead of me if I try and complete it solo.
Sure, I don’t want Haven poking her nose around all of my mother’s things, but I also don’t want to be here forever trying to clear out the house, so beggars can’t be choosers.
‘That would be great, thank you,’ I say. ‘Maybe grab a bin bag from the kitchen and come up here. I’m putting a few things into boxes but there’s a lot of rubbish that can be thrown away too.’
‘Sure thing,’ Joel replies, and he and Haven wander off to find the bin bags.
I return to my task and keep busy until Joel and Haven enter the bedroom that now looks marginally tidier than when I first entered it.
While it’s nice to have had a mother who was wealthy, a mother who made sure I was treated lots as a child, and a mother who I now have inherited a fortune from now I’m grown, it also means one thing.
My mum had a lot of stuff.
‘Wow,’ Joel says when he sees exactly how much there is in here, which is just one room in this sizeable house.
‘Yeah,’ I mumble back as I put several books into a box, none of which grab my interest to read so I’ll be taking these to the local charity shop at some point.
‘We’ll get started in another room,’ Joel says, possibly because it’s practical to spread the effort, or possibly because he and Haven would still like their own space even if they have offered to help me out around here.
But if it saves me having to make small talk with her then I’m all for it because that would be awkward considering I still have her precious note in my pocket.
‘Be careful. Try not to break anything,’ I call after them, offering a reminder that there are plenty of things here that hold both sentimental value and financial value and any carelessness could result in another form of loss.
I keep on working but can hear Joel and Haven chatting in the next room, even though I’m not actually trying to eavesdrop.
It’s just a very quiet house and unless one of us puts some music on, we’re going to hear everything that we’re doing.
Not that I envision any of us doing anything particularly interesting here.
At least I think that until I hear Haven say something to my son, something that she lowers her voice to say, although I still hear it, nonetheless.
‘Do you think any of this stuff is worth anything?’ she asks Joel, causing me to grit my teeth and stop what I am doing.
Is that why she’s here? To check out whatever antiques my mother might have owned and to check if she can squeeze even more money out of the life that was recently lost?
I decide I’ve had enough of this and take out the note from my pocket. Without giving it another thought, I send a text message to the number.
Hey, it’s me. Haven. This is my new number. Can we meet?