It never occurred to me how this might change things. And anyway, how did Cynthia find out? If Evan received this letter last week, then she must have sent it almost the day after that meeting in the games lounge when the subscription was decided. Was she spying on the Squad? Someone must have been either careless or deliberately reporting to her. No wonder she’s been conspicuous by her absence; she has an informer.
“Are they going to sue you?” I ask Evan and Haneen.
That would be the perfect way to pay them back for their kindness to me, get them into litigation.
“Don’t worry so much.” Haneen gives me one of her kind smiles. “I have all that already. Don’t forget, I run a catering business and do a lot of my cooking here.”
“And with all the teenagers around the place,” Evan says. “We need all kinds of liability insurance and health and safety covered.”
The relief is so great, I sag down into a chair. “So, it’s okay? Did you explain to her?”
“Certainly not. It gave me great pleasure to write back and tell her to mind her own business.” He gives me a wicked smile. For the first time, I notice the man has dimples. It must be the first time he’s really smiled at me. If Mum were here she’d be all over me to try to catch him for myself. She wouldn’t care that he’s with Haneen, she’d say,they’re not married, so all is fair in love. She wouldn’t care that he’s a nice man, that he loves Haneen and is a wonderful stepfather to her daughter. These thing, to my mum are just icing on the cake. It explains Horrible Howard. More than ever, I feel sad for Mum who’s spent her life chasing the wrong things. Getting to know my Welsh Hagrid has finally made me see the truth I’ve been trying to understand all my life.
Meredith comes into the kitchen to collect Henrietta and take her to school. Only after they’re gone, Haneen starts having her own breakfast. That’s what mothers do. Mothers who are not like mine. Evan, too, hasn’t eaten because he’s been waiting for her. See? that’s what I mean.
“Let me.” I go to the stove where the porridge is on a low simmer, and dish two bowls. I’m still in charge of making breakfast because it’s the only thing I can contribute to Kendric House in return for their hospitality. “Toast?” I pop four slices under the flame grill.
“Please.” Evan closes his laptop and shoves it away.
“Can I just ask, when did you reply to The Glyn?”
“Wednesday last week.” Evan butters a slice of toast and hands it to Haneen with a private smile.
I really hope he’s right not to be concerned, but I’m worried this isn’t over. In my mind I remember Jenkins hissing,“you’ll pay.”
That was on Wednesday, last week. Yet neither Cynthia or Jenkins have tried to stop me visiting and zero objection to the Squad coming over. What are they up to?
The question is still in my head when Evan’s phone rings. He pulls it out of his back pocket takes a look and frowns.
“What?” Haneen asks drinking some of her tea.
He shows her the screen and her smile drops. “What doeshewant?”
“It’s half past nine, so he’s already in the office. This isn’t a brotherly call.”
The phone goes on ringing until Evan, reluctantly swipes to answer. Instantly, an angry voice shouts loud enough for me to hear at my end of the table.
Evan winces, moving the phone away from his ear to place on the table and puts it on speaker.
“…being irresponsible and exposing us to lawsuits.”
“Owen, there’s—” but the other man (Owen?) carries on shouting.
“And what’s this about you running a business. There was never any agreement for you to take the house and convert it to a restaurant.”
“Owen, Owen stop shouting—”
“This is typical of you. I should never have agreed to give you Kendric Park.”
Evan blows out a breath full of frustration. Haneen reaches over and lays a calming hand over his, but he’s angry too, now. When he finally replies to Own, his voice is taught, like a s spring pulled to its limit.
“Owen you didn’tgiveme” – he lands heavily on the word give – “anything. We made an exchange, a very fair exchange. You got our father’s house in Belgravia worth five million in exchange for a derelict house that was full of dead vermin and not fit for human habitation. You wanted shot of it and had it valued at one million.”
“If it’s a derelict house not fit for habitation, how are you running a hotel?”
“I’m not running a hotel—”
“If I find out you lied to me—”
