THE HEIR'S REVENGE

chapter 75

Yemi smiled. "We did."

Lily looked up at the garlands for another moment.

Then she yawned.

It was the enormous yawn of a child whose body had decided the day was officially over regardless of what the child's brain wanted.

She covered her mouth with both hands.

"I am not tired," she said.

"Of course not," I said.

She yawned again.

"Come on," I said. I held out my hand.

She took it and we walked back to the house. At the garden door she turned back to look at Yemi who was still standing in the middle of the garden looking up at the garlands.

"Yemi," she called.

Yemi looked at her.

"You should come back tomorrow," Lily said.

Then she went inside before Yemi could answer.

I looked at Yemi.

She was looking at the door where Lily had just disappeared.

Something in her face was very open at that moment. Unguarded in the way it got when she thought nobody was watching her closely enough to see.

But I was watching.

I was always watching these days and trying to pretend that I was not.

"She is something else," Yemi said quietly.

"Yes," I said. "She is."

I put Lily to bed at eight thirty.

She was asleep before I finished tucking her in. The enormous yawn in the garden had been the beginning of the end. She went under fast and completely the way she always did when she had used up all of her energy for the day.

I stood at her door for a moment.

The star nightlight was doing its quiet work in the corner. The rabbit was under her arm. The butterfly garlands from the party were still in a neat pile on her shelf because she had decided the ones outside were the garden ones and these were the bedroom ones and they were different and both necessary.

I went back downstairs.

Yemi was in the sitting room.

She had taken off her cardigan and was sitting with her feet tucked slightly under her on the sofa with a cup of tea in her hands that Mrs Park had apparently brought before disappearing for the evening. She looked comfortable in the sitting room in a way that felt completely natural. Like she had been sitting in that room for years and the room knew it.

I sat down on the sofa.

Not on the other end.

Beside her.

She looked at me.

I looked at her.

"How is your mum?" I asked.

She looked at her tea. "She is okay," she said. "She had a small health scare last week. Nothing serious but it worried me." She paused. "She lives far from here so I cannot just go and check on her whenever I want."

"How far?"

"About four hours by road," she said. "She is with my younger brother. The one I told you about. He looks after her." She smiled slightly. "He is very good at looking after people. He always was."

"Like you," I said.

She looked at me.

"Like me," she said quietly.

We sat for a moment in the warm sitting room.

Outside the garden was quiet and cold. The butterfly garlands were moving in the wind that I could see through the window. The city was doing its usual night things beyond the walls.

"Ethan," she said.

"Yes."

"About this afternoon," she said. "I want you to know that I trust you." She looked at me directly. "I know that Emma is complicated and I know you are handling a complicated situation. I am not asking you to explain yourself to me." She paused. "I just wanted to say that. That I trust you."

I looked at her.

I had not expected that.

I had expected more questions or more careful professional distance or at least a little bit of the uncertainty that the afternoon had created. What I had not expected was this. Simple and direct and real.

I trust you.

"Thank you," I said. And I meant it in the way I always meant things when I said them to her.

She nodded.

Then she looked at the window. "Your garden is very beautiful at night," she said.

"Lily designed most of it," I said.

"Of course she did," Yemi said.

We sat together quietly for a while.

Not the uncomfortable quiet of two people who do not know what to say. The easy quiet of two people who are comfortable enough to say nothing and have it feel like something.

Then she put her cup down on the table.

"I should go," she said. "It is late."

"Yes," I said. But neither of us moved immediately.

She looked at me one more time.

I looked at her.

"Ethan," she said.

"Yes."

"The next Sunday coffee," she said. "Are we still doing that?"

I smiled.

I did not try to stop it this time.

"Yes," I said. "We are still doing that."

She smiled back.

Then she stood up and got her cardigan and her bag.

I walked her to the front door.

At the door she turned around.

We were standing close in the hallway with the warm house behind us and the cold night air coming through the slightly open door.

"Goodnight Ethan," she said.

"Goodnight Yemi," I said.

She went out.

I stood at the door and watched her walk to her car.

She did not look back but when she got to the car she paused for just one second before she opened the door.

Just one second.

Then she got in and drove away.

I closed the door.

The house was warm and quiet around me.

I stood in the hallway for a moment.

Then I went to the kitchen to get a glass of water before bed.

On the kitchen counter Lily's drawing was still there.

The table with all the people around it.

The tall figure at the head.

The figure sitting right beside it.

I looked at it for a moment.

Then I smiled and went to bed.

Tomorrow Margaret Vane will still be in her hotel.

Tomorrow Victoria's case will still be moving through the courts.

Tomorrow all the unfinished things would still be unfinished and waiting.

But tonight was good.

Genuinely good.

And that was more than enough.