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‘He’s not like that! ‘Beverley protested.
Helen made a moue. ‘Believe what you want, but I think he’s got an agenda of his own. No one in their right mind would choose to live on the streets when they’ve got a roof over their heads, three square meals a day, and a daft old bat like you to wait on them hand, foot, and finger. Mark my words, that man is up to something. You should thank your lucky stars that you’re well out of it. I’m just relieved he didn’t take the silver with him.’
Beverley stared at her. ‘I don’t have any silver.’
‘No, I don’t expect you do,’ was Helen’s sour reply.
Troy sat up. ‘Hang on a sec. Did I hear you right? That this Ron-fella is a derro?’
‘A what?’ Helen demanded. ‘For goodness sake, speak English.’ She rolled her eyes and said, ‘He sounds like he’s on the set of Neighbours.’
‘Derro,’ Troy repeated. ‘Derelict fella. Homeless.’
‘That’s right, Ron is homeless,’ Helen said. ‘Brett, are you going to do something with that kettle or not? I simply have to have my breakfast before we play.’
‘He doesn’t have to be homeless,’ Beverley cried. ‘He has a perfectly good home with me.’
Helen sniffed again. ‘That’s debatable.’
‘Mum,’ Brett warned and Helen subsided, closing her mouth on whatever else she was about to say.
‘Holy-moly!’ Troy was incredulous, as he smirked at Annabelle. ‘You’ve been cosying up with aderro?’
‘Yeah, well, I suppose it takes one to know one,’ Annabelle shot back.
‘I’m not homeless – I’m waiting for a rental to go through.’
‘I was referring to myself, actually,’ Annabelle retorted. ‘Thanks to you and your stupidity – or should I call it selfishness – me and the kids are homeless.’
‘You can stay at your mum and dad’s place,’ Troy said, shifting awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was going.
‘What would have happened if I hadn’t already had our flights booked and the holiday planned?’ Annabelle demanded. Her sudden surge of fury was a welcome relief from the anguish she was feeling. The heartache was still there – she was under no illusion that it had magically disappeared – but anger’s much louder voice was temporarily drowning it out. ‘Your children would have been out on the streets, that’s what,’ she continued. ‘Unless Sallie would have taken us in, which I highly doubt.’ Annabelle’s tone was scathing, and Troy had the grace to look sheepish.
‘The social would have sorted you out,’ he said.
‘Ha!’ Annabelle snorted. ‘That was your solution, was it? That one of the welfare agencies would have found us somewhere to live? You take the biscuit, Troy, you really do. No wonder your bloody business went under.’ Disgust radiated out of her. ‘I can’t believe you were so reckless as to risk your children’s health and happiness for the sake of a few lousy bucks.’
‘It wasn’t just a few,’ Troy objected. ‘I needed the cash to keep it afloat.’
‘That didn’t work out so well for you, did it?’ Annabelle retaliated. ‘Your business sunk without a trace anyway, taking my home with it. I would have begged stolen and borrowed to scrape enough money together to buy you out, but I trusted you to do the right thing; if not for me then for your kids. You don’t give a hoot about them, do you?’
‘Course I do.’
‘You’ve got a funny way of showing it.’ Annabelle was trembling violently, though whether it was from the shock of Ron’s leaving or from sheer temper, she couldn’t tell.
‘I love you, Bella, I always have.’ Troy had a winning expression on his face, an expression that had worked on her in the past, but now just left her cold.
‘If you loved me that much you wouldn’t have slept with Sallie. You wouldn’t have walked out on me and the kids, leaving me to bring upourchildren on my own.’
‘I helped,’ Troy objected.
‘How? You saw them now and again when it was convenient foryou, not when they needed you. And you didn’t provide for them financially whatsoever. I was the one who made sure there was enough food to eat, who kept the electricity on, who bought them new shoes for school. All you did was let me keep the house. To think I was grateful for that!’ She barked out a bitter laugh.
‘Come back to Stralia with me. I’ll sort something out, I promise,’ Troy whined.
‘I hope you haven’t already bought our tickets,’ Annabelle snorted, ‘because you’ll have wasted your money.’ Then when she saw the expression on his face, she realised that Troy had no intention of buying their tickets. If she was to return to Australia, she’d have to pay her own fare.
‘I didn’t see the point. You’ve already got return tickets,’ he muttered.
