Page 58 of Lela's Choice

Chapter Eight

Hamish found Lela atthe end of the walkway that ran along the southern side of Xlendi harbour. Hunched into herself on a bench, she stared out to sea. He hadn’t been sure how to find her, until an old woman sitting on a chair sipping coffee had gestured with her cane, and he’d spotted Lela’s tomato red top and gleaming dark hair in the distance. The woman’s face was deeply wrinkled, her eyes old and fathomless, but they missed nothing of human emotion.

“Thank you,” he’d mouthed, lifting a hand in her direction.

Taking those last ten metres at a slow walk, Hamish observed Lela’s motionless posture, composing and dismissing opening lines. Leaving her guessing about whether he’d caught the end of her conversation with Sophie would add to her torment. Best to confront it head-on. He dropped down beside her.

“They’re heartless at that age.”

She continued to stare straight in front of her, but tell-tale smudges on her cheeks revealed she’d been crying.

“Egotistical, confident they’re right,” he continued. “That’s if they’ve been lucky enough to have comfortable lives with adults who’ve always supported them. You and I know that’s not how it works for everyone.”

She shifted in her seat to look at him rather than the turbulent sea beyond the safe harbour. “You’re excusing her!”

“Never.” He took her hand, needing to reassure her through touch. “Just pointing out you achieved your goal. She’s confident and not afraid to tackle a new country and language. She still wants you to run interference with her grandfather. You’re right. She knew you’d come. Was relying on having you here.”

“‘Relying on?’” Her eyebrows rose. “How?”

“You—to take responsibility or blame, depending on how you see it.”

“Then I failed in her upbringing in a few serious ways.” Lela sounded defeated, which annoyed the hell out of him. She was silent for a few seconds. “She thinks I’m selfish.”

“Classic case of projection. If you’re selfish, she can absolve herself of responsibility. Did you get your answer on why they ran?”

“Papa told her one of the guests at that final dinner party was her prospective husband.”

“She figured you were in on the deal.”

“Is that a guess, or did you cross-examine her?” Even now, she was protective of her niece.

“She spent the first five minutes after you left justifying her behaviour. Then explaining the rules governing her inheritance. No court of law would deny her access to funds to continue her education in Malta. Poor orphan child wanting to get in touch with her heritage. She could attend a few classes at the university as well.” Hamish hadn’t bothered to tell her he was a lawyer.

“I can almost sympathise with Papa’s mental instability claim,” she said wryly.

“A touch of narcissism, but that’s not uncommon in privileged youth. Her upbringing means there’s a good chance she’ll grow out of it.”

“What do we do next?”

She was asking for his help, and her trust made him feel invincible.

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