The door opened a crack and Cynthia popped her head around it. ‘Good morning.’
‘Hey, Mom,’ he greeted.
Cynthia stepped in. He was surprised to see her dressed in casual slacks and a Rangers sweater. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d dressed down. But it wasn’t just her clothing that was slightly off; she looked exhausted, obviously worn from everything that had happened last night.
‘I brought you some coffee,’ she stated, moving to put the mug down on the nightstand. ‘I thought you might need it.’
‘Thanks,’ he responded. ‘It was some night.’
‘Yes, I won’t disagree about that.’
He picked up the mug, taking a drink before returning it to the nightstand.
‘So, we talked about Andrew all last night.’
‘Yes we did.’
‘Now how about we talk about you?’ Cynthia suggested.
The question made him shift in the bed, his hands going backto the mug and lifting it again. ‘You said it yourself last night, you and the rest of the board don’t have confidence in me to lead Drummond Global.’
‘Oliver, that isn’t quite what I said.’
‘I’m not saying you’re wrong either.’ He put the mug back on the nightstand. ‘I admit, these last few months, my focus has shifted.’ He swallowed. ‘And my health hasn’t been so good.’
He waited for his mother to react. She had no clue about anything that had happened recently. He watched her take it on board.
‘Tell me, Oliver.’ There were tears in her eyes. ‘I can’t help you unless you talk to me.’
What was he going to say here? He didn’t want to put any more on her plate after the shock of last night. But was it fair to hold off? He knew he would likely cause his mother more anxiety by keeping it to himself rather than laying it all out there.
‘I’ve been having pains… in my chest… shallow breathing… rapid pulse.’ Just thinking about it felt like he was calling on an attack.
Cynthia’s hands went to her mouth and she stifled a sob. ‘Oh, Oliver.’
‘Mom, I think it’s only a matter of time.’
New York Public Library, Bryant Park
After a morning filled with organisation for the McArthur Foundation fundraiser, Hayley had spared the afternoon to tick off one of the “must-sees” on Angel’s list of New York sights. The New York Public Library. Following this visit, her plan was to leave Angel with Dean while she checked out the intel onMichel. She wasn’t going to be 100 per cent convinced of anything until she saw Michel in the flesh, here, actually in New York. After so many dead ends and false leads, she was still cautious and she wasn’t sure quite how to feel. Of course it was what she wanted. Finding him for Angel. But piece by tiny piece, it was becoming reality and she wasn’t sure what happened after that.
I never realised I was such a ‘witch dressed by Debenhams’.
Her mother had sent another text. Rita was starting to get to the good stuff. In some ways, it was a relief the diary had been found. She swallowed. Did she really mean that? Had she always wanted Rita to know what she was thinking? Being an ocean away made it slightly easier to deal with and there was so much going on right now, it wasn’t riding high on her list of priorities.
‘You do know you’re not supposed to have your mobile on in a library,’ Angel whispered.
‘Show me the sign,’ Hayley responded.
‘Shh!’ Angel hissed as they walked into the Rose Main Reading Room.
‘I know books are important and interesting but why was it you wanted to come here?’ Hayley asked, touching icons on the screen of her phone.
‘Wow!’ Angel said, looking up and around her.
At her daughter’s exclamation, Hayley took her eyes off the phone and looked too. Light flooded in from the arched windows on both sides of the grand room. Chandeliers hung from a ceiling that was ornately carved, paintings of cloud and blue sky at its centre. Ancient-looking wooden tables and chairs filled the floor space and underneath the large windows were rows and rows of books occupying a full-length balcony and the walls below.
‘It looks like something out of Hogwarts,’ Angel said, her tone awe-coated.
