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Documents which just happen to be in the same room as a certain lady.
Irrelevant. Ignore.
Clamping down on my urge to march out of the room, I perched down on the plush blue monstrosity that passed for furniture in my mother’s eyes. I sank seven point thirty-two inches into the thing before decelerating and coming to a stop.
‘Well, um…Ricky…’
‘Yes, Mother?’
My mother’s fingers started nervously
stitching again. Only, she wasn’t paying particularly much attention to what her hands were doing. Right now, the needle was in the process of adding a third wing to the bird’s backside.
‘Well…I was wondering how things…how things are going with you.’
‘Not.’
She blinked at me. ‘Pardon?’
‘I’m not going. I’m sitting. While not getting any work done, I might add.’
My sister shifted in her seat and, with a dexterity that was almost enough to distract me, managed to kick me in the process. I put another scratch on the mental list of things to talk over with my little sister as soon as I managed to get her alone.
‘No, what I meant was…’ Blushing, my mother glanced sideways. Meanwhile, her nervous fingers added a fourth wing to the bird’s bottom, and a beak to his left foot. ‘I noticed you’ve been spending quite a lot of time with—’
No. Don’t say it. Do. Not. Say. It.
‘—Miss Linton lately.’
I regarded her for a moment in silence. Then…
‘Indeed?’
Ayla gave me another kick. This time without pretending to shift in her seat.
‘Go on, big brother! Spill!’
Reaching for one of the tea cups on the tray next to the sofa, I spilled a few drops of the contents onto the saucer.
‘Sufficient?’
She glared at me with an expression I had once seen on the face of a hungry African hyena just before she leapt on her prey.
‘Brother…’
I raised both shoulders precisely two millimetres. ‘I prefer to deposit liquid in my stomach.’
Then, before my sister had any more chance to emulate raptor behaviour, I redirected my attention to my mother. Her eyes were still focused on me with deep love and concern.
Fortunately, I was immune to such distracting phenomena.
‘Is there a…connection between you and Miss Linton?’ she enquired.
‘Certainly there is.’ I took another sip of tea. ‘She is my secretary’s sister.’
My mother’s busy fingers sped up. She was still adding wings to her embroidery. This time, it didn’t appear to be attached to any bird, but flying free towards the sky. Her eyes seemed to be similarly inclined to avoid any contact. They were jumping from one corner of the room to another, never focusing on anything for long. She was working up to something.
Leave. Now.
