Free City Lives by Patricia Scanlan Page A

heart sank as he marched past her
bedroom and into his own.
    So . . . it was to be the cold huffy silence. The freeze-out that could last for weeks. He wouldn’t tell her what was going on. She wouldn’t know whether he was staying or going. He
wouldn’t discuss Sarah’s illness. If she died, he’d hold it against her and somehow, as usual, in his eyes, everything would be all her fault. He’d accept responsibility for
nothing.
    How long would she have to put up with it? If this went on for months what was she expected to do? How could she make plans? She bit her lip. Should she go in and ask him how Sarah was? Or would
he reef her out of it and once again accuse her of causing his mother’s heart attack?
    Caroline lay back against her pillows. She was weary. She’d already had one draining confrontation with Sarah, she didn’t want another with Richard. Maybe it was better to sleep on
it and see what the morning brought.
    She slept fitfully and was awake around seven. She lay quietly in the snug little hollow of her bed. Richard was always an early riser, today she wanted to be up before him so that he
couldn’t sneak off without speaking to her.
    When she heard the sound of his shower running she slipped out of bed and wrapped her dressing-gown around her. She went down to the kitchen, filled the kettle, and began to prepare the
breakfast.
    Twenty minutes later Richard appeared, showered and dressed.
    ‘Morning,’ Caroline said easily.
    ‘Morning.’ His tone was cool.
    ‘How’s your mother?’ The question hung in the air between them. Richard didn’t answer. He picked up the glass of orange juice she had poured for him and gulped it down.
Then he began to butter a croissant.
    ‘Richard, I asked how’s your mother?’ Caroline repeated, trying not to get angry.
    Richard put his knife back on the plate and stared at her. ‘Do you really care, Caroline? What did you say to her yesterday that sent her out of here in such a state? Mrs Gleeson said she
was trembling.’
    ‘Richard that’s not fair! And don’t do this to me. Did you ask
me
what did she say to upset
me
? Your mother treated me with total disrespect yesterday . . .
and, may I add . . . you too. I even stood up for you. I shouldn’t have wasted my breath. You know I hope I never see your mother again, but I wouldn’t wish harm on her. That’s
why I asked how she was.’
    ‘Well she’s not very good, actually. And you probably
will
never see her again,’ Richard said sulkily. ‘So that will be a wish come true, won’t it,’
he added nastily.
    ‘Grow up, Richard,’ Caroline snapped. ‘Are you putting the business up for sale tomorrow?’
    Richard stared at her in disgust. ‘How crass, Caroline. This isn’t the time to think of things like that. My mother is
dying
!’
    ‘And if she recovers?’ Caroline asked tartly. She knew she was being bitchy but she couldn’t help herself.
    ‘Look, I have to postpone things for a while, to see what way it goes. I’m not that selfish. Surely even
you
can understand that.’
    ‘Listen, Richard, I understand that you have to postpone your plans for a while. I just hope for your sake as well as for mine that you’re not going to change your mind about going
to America. But if you do, and if you decide to stay here, I think it’s only fair to tell you that I’m going for the divorce even if you decide to chicken out.’
    ‘Thanks for that! Just what I needed today. Your timing as usual is impeccable. You’re as self-centred as ever. You haven’t one ounce of sympathy towards my mother.’
Richard glared at her, bristling with hostility.
    ‘I just want you to remember that I’m in this equation too . . . that’s all, Richard.’ Caroline turned on her heel and walked out of the kitchen. Her lower lip
trembled.
    ‘Don’t you dare cry,’ she muttered as she hurried towards her bedroom. She was angry, frustrated and pissed off. This was not all about Richard and his