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I stare at the box, my mind completely blank. I’m not sure what to do with it. Should I read whatever is in there?
“She said he’s a mess,” she continues, her voice soft and cautious. “I told her it serves him right.”
Again I don’t respond.
“I’m surprised he didn’t follow you.” I know she’s referring to Nathan. That much is obvious. Honestly, I was surprised too. It’s one of the reasons I went to the beach. I knew he would never follow me onto the sand.
“He’s giving me space.”
“Well, that’s good.” She taps her fingers on her knee after taking the seat by the window. “Do you…”
“No.” I cut her off before she asks me for the hundredth time if I want to talk about it. “I’m fine…”
“I might be able to help.” Can she? She doesn’t know the half of it. I haven’t told her. I don’t want to tell her that her daughter fell for two arseholes from the same family and might be knocked up again.
“I just need to deal with things myself first before I let other people give me their input.” I stand with Dillan cradled to my chest. “Can you pass me the box please?”
She places it on my free arm, where I grip it tightly to the side of my ribs. “If you need me, I’m here until ten, then I have work.”
“We’ll be fine.” I ascend the stairs, the box digging into my side.
I shouldn’t want to look inside it. I shouldn’t want to think of him anymore. I’ve made my decision.
Stupid curiosity.
When Dillan has finished eating, I sit him between my legs and pass him his favourite lady bug shaped teddy with shiny eyes that crackle when slapped or crushed by his tiny fists. He babbles happily to himself and his bug, squealing when he tries to chew on it but his own hands move it out of the way.
Mum was right; he is sitting up almost all by himself.
“Mum!” I call, making Dillan jolt. His chubby arms spasm mid-air and his legs kick out, causing him to fall backwards against my knee. I laugh and help him back up while waiting for her to respond. “Can you bring me my phone?” It’s the only camera I have.
I hear her grumbling as she comes up the stairs. She throws my phone at me and grumbles all the way back down.
“Granny’s mardy,” I say to Dillan as my phone loads. “I think she’s unhappy because Mummy is unhappy and Granny doesn’t like it when Mummy is unhappy. Just like Mummy doesn’t like it when Dillan is unhappy.” He tilts his head and gives me a wide mouthed smile. “Are you following me?”
Ignoring the numerous texts that begin assaulting my phone, I quickly start snapping pictures of Dillan sitting up all by himself. This is the first time I’ve felt something all week. I feel warmer, like I’ve been sitting in a fridge for a really long time and the door has finally opened.
As much as I want to, I don’t read my messages. I’m too emotionally exhausted. I do, however, answer my phone when it rings and only because I know immediately who the number belongs to.
“Is it done?” I ask, chewing on my lip and praying that I sound confident.
“Yes. We sign everything Wednesday morning.” I almost shudder at the sound of his voice. It makes me feel physically sick. “I’ll collect on Wednesday, at five as agreed.”
“And then you disappear and you never bother any of us again.” I repeat what I said the last time we had this conversation.
“How do I know it’ll all be there? How do I know you don’t have more copies?”
“I have nothing I want from you.” I laugh incredulously. “Nathan has everything he wants; you’re still getting money. I haven’t been unfair. If anything, I’ve saved the family business by forcing you to make a smart choice.”
He harrumphs and clips, “Five. Wednesday.”
“It’ll be on the table in the dining room as promised. All of it. Or all of what I’ve found, anyway.” My heart thrums a heavy beat and excitement floods my veins. “Bye Mr Weston.”
He hangs up and I fall back onto the bed, wanting to cheer at my own brilliance at the same time as wanting to vomit from the immense fear and guilt I feel. I’ve never been reckless. I’ve never been mean, yet here I am blackmailing my son’s grandfather.
I couldn’t not do anything though. As much as I despise Nathan right now, he didn’t deserve to go to prison or sully his reputation after everything he’s been through. According to Mr Weston, Nathan accosted him in his office and beat him rather badly, breaking two of his ribs and his nose. I don’t condone violence, but I can hardly deny that, if this is the truth, Mr Weston definitely deserved it.
