There was also the time when Aunty Bev announced to the family on WhatsApp she was getting back into singing. She’d sent us all a photo of her grinning with a microphone in her hand. Two nights later she sent us a clip of her getting on stage at a rock concert and doing a duet with the lead singer.
A sense of unease passed over me.
‘I have the keys to the west wing,’ she grinned. ‘I might haveborrowedthem from the cleaner’s handbag in the hallway. I am going into the west wing.’
I gasped. ‘You can’t do that.’
Aunty Bev shrugged. ‘Layla won’t miss them now. She made the mistake of telling me she cleans both sides of the house and that Frank has banned her from showing the west wing to anyone. It was like showing a red flag to a bull. Rachel, you know how I have spent my life struggling with the word, “no”. You’d think I would have understood it in my fifties, but it’s getting worse. I’ve been waiting for you to get home as I hate being naughty by myself.’
The thought of betraying Layla made me shake my head. ‘Aunty Bev, I can’t get Layla in trouble.’
Aunty Bev rolled her eyes before leaning across the table. ‘Aren’t you curious?’
‘About what’s in there? Yes, I am.’
Aunty Bev drained her glass. ‘I smell a rat in this manor house. Something is not right, and I am going to get to the bottom of it.’
‘But what happens if Frank has cameras set up and he sees you entering the west wing?’
She laughed. ‘He’s too busy doing deals in Malibu and anyway you’ve had Layla stay with you. If he’d been paying attention to his cameras, he would have sent you instructions to have her removed. She told me how vile he has been to her and how she must leave her employment come the first of January.’
I felt uncomfortable. ‘This feels like we are invading their privacy but…’
‘What?’ Aunty Bev frowned.
‘I can’t talk. I am sleeping in a bedroom in the west wing. I took Grandpa into Frank and Maddie’s master bedroom and I let him borrow one of Frank’s suits.’
Aunty Bev poured herself another glass of wine. ‘I know you’re worried about your sister, Rachel. Now, I don’t like my sisters much, but if one of them was in a weird marriage to someone like Frank I would be doing what I could to find out what was going on behind locked doors. You’re different to me in that you and Maddie have always been close.’
I hang my head. ‘It’s been on my mind for ages, Aunty Bev.’
‘Great,’ said Aunty Bev, ‘let’s stop stewing over this. I am feeling naughty.’ She rose from the table and dangled the keys. ‘Let’s go exploring.’
‘But Layla…’ I tried to stop Aunty Bev but she turned around.
‘Maddie is your sister. Your loyalties are to her.’
Nausea ate away at me as we headed for the reception hall. Aunty Bev rubbed my arm. ‘Don’t look so scared, Rachel. Frank won’t know and even if he did – what exactly is he going to do from Malibu?’
‘I know but what if…’
Aunty Bev slotted a key into the door adjacent to the east wing living room. It wasn’t the right key, so she tried another until she had success. ‘Bingo,’ she said, with a cackle of laughter. She turned the handle and opened the door.
We stepped inside and Aunty Bev flicked on the lights. We both gasped in awe. It was a living room the same size as the one in the east wing. However, it was nothing like the east wing. It was funky and cool with raspberry-coloured walls, a white ceiling, a white fireplace, purple sofas and several distressed brown wooden cabinets, shelves, and bookcases.
‘Why are they hiding this from us?’ Aunty Bev gushed, running her hand over the purple fabric sofa. ‘This is much better than Frank’s lifeless living area.’
‘This must be Maddie’s living room,’ I said, surveying the furniture. ‘The bedroom I am staying in upstairs has a similar bold, colourful vibe.’
In one corner of the room was a collection of photos. My eyes were drawn to the familiar tall guy with black curly hair who was waving from a tractor in one photo and standing next to a horse in another. It was Josh. He was older now but still had that boyish smile.
I remember him from when I used to go visit Maddie at Oxford University and they’d both take me out for milkshakes. When he went to collect our drinks orders Maddie would gush about how cute his smile was. Had Frank seen these photos? I walked over to a desk which was tucked away at the back of the room. It was clear apart from an orange leather journal.
Aunty Bev came to stand beside me. She peered over my shoulder. ‘Look inside.’
Reading Maddie’s journal felt like a step too far. ‘I can’t do that.’
Aunty Bev shrugged and led the way through a door opposite the desk. After she turned on the light, we both gasped once more. We were in a kitchen-diner, painted in duck egg blue, with cream units. ‘So, Maddie has her own kitchen?’ Aunty Bev said, surveying the little jars of herbal tea.
