He stopped chewing and finally looked up at her. ‘What do you mean?’ he grunted through a mouthful of food, deception clearly written all over his crumb-covered face.
God, were all brothers this disgusting?
‘Don’t look at me!’ she mocked in a high-pitched voice, waving the tea towel for dramatic effect.
A telltale flush began creeping up his neck – caught red-handed, or red-faced, she supposed.
‘I knew it,’ she snapped, whipping the tea towel against the kitchen table. Mark jumped, which was satisfying in itself.
‘Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would blow up as it did. I thought it’d just be one, maybe two.’ He put down the baguette with a miserable grimace.
‘Why? Why would you do that?’ Mark was many things, but deliberately cruel was not one of them.
He crossed his arms and pretended nonchalance. ‘Oh, come on. I’m sure he’s used to it. What does it matter if a few people got his picture?’
‘He was my friend,’ she said sharply, refusing to back down.
And there it was, the unspoken rule. You didn’t mess with your siblings’ friends. You didn’t date them, you didn’t slag them off, and youdefinitelydidn’t hurt or embarrass them.
Mark couldn’t meet her eyes.
‘Why?’ she repeated, softer this time, as a horrible feeling began to churn in the pit of her stomach.
He looked pointedly at the closed door and then back at her. Whatever it was, he didn’t want Nanna or Mum to know.
This is going to be bad.
‘Nanna’s out, and I presume Mum’s watching the shop while you eat? So, come on, spit it out.’ She noticed the worry lines on his forehead. Her 28-year-old brother suddenly seemed a lot older than he actually was.
‘I thought I could make some money.’ She continued to stare at him, and he twisted under her gaze like a spider under a magnifying glass. ‘We had a tough time last year.’
‘Understatement.’ Mum had told her they hadn’t made any profit last year. Small businesses like theirs were struggling. They’d taken a massive hit during the pandemic, then there’d been the credit crunch, the astronomical rise in the cost of living. One disaster after another. Thank God they owned the shop and house outright.
‘Well, the rates and insurance have gone up, and the tax bill was double what I expected. Sales are still bad. I thought if I sold them the story of Alex being here, then I could keep us going for a bit longer, but turns out they don’t pay much anyway, so it wasn’t even worth it. If things don’t improve, we might have to close the shop at the end of the month… For good.’
Ellie flinched as if he’d struck her. They couldn’t close the shop. It was their family’s pride and joy. ‘No, absolutely not.’ She stepped away from the counter, her fists clenched tight, as if she were about to fight back. But who was she going to fight? Mark? Yes, he was useless at keeping track of the accounts, but the shop was his life’s blood. Whatever risks he’d taken, they would always have been for the good of the shop. For all his faults, Mark loved the shop, just as much as – probably more than – she did.
Mark ran his hand through his hair and pushed away his half-eaten baguette. ‘Well, we might have to.’
Ellie’s heart broke. She couldn’t let this happen; this was their home, her family history and future. ‘I can give you my flat deposit,’ she blurted out.
He blinked. ‘I can’t ask that of you – that’s your savings, your future.’
Her jaw tightened. He was right, but it was still the right thing to do. Shehadto help her family. Yes, it would mean the end ofher dreams for her own flat, but if it saved the shop? Their family home? There was no question about it. ‘You’re not asking. I’m doing it.’
Mark looked miserable, and she suddenly felt very sorry for her idiotic brother. How long had he kept this burden to himself?
‘You’d just be throwing good money after bad. It might keep us going for another six months, a year maybe, but the business just isn’t profitable any more.’
‘Then we should make it profitable. Our family’s done it before, we can do it again. Change, diversify. Try something new. We can’t give up.’
He blinked up at her as if seeing her for the first time, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. ‘Maybe. I mean, I had one idea…’
Ellie sagged with relief. She’d say this for Mark, he always had decent ideas… mostly. The personalised balloons hadn’t worked out well. No one needed to see themselves in balloon form – it was the stuff of nightmares. But it boded well that he’d at least considered some changes to save them.
‘I wondered about becoming a cafe, or maybe starting a personalised gift delivery service. But don’t mention it to Mum, you know how she gets about change and I need to think it over first. Oh, and don’t mention it to Nanna either. I don’t want them to worry, not yet at least.’
Ellie tried not to roll her eyes. Nanna was tougher than he thought, but he might have a point about Mum – she never took bad news well. ‘Will do.’
