Page 41 of Broken Beyond Repair
“Okay,” Sydney finally said.
She searched Sydney’s face for any sign of anger; there was none. Did the woman not mind resuming her cooking responsibilities?
“My agent is impressed with your work, by the way. Extremely impressed. You’ll meet her Monday when I go for an audition in London; she’ll be joining me for lunch afterwards, so book the Ritz. Oh, that reminds me; the Rolls will need a clean.”
CHAPTER14
The hose pipe vibrated in Sydney’s hand as the line of soapy water neared the top of the bucket. She turned it off and stuffed her hand into the woollen wash mitten before plunging it into the bucket of lukewarm water. With the blistering sun on her bare back, the car would have to forgo a hot wash. She held no objection to washing cars; it was therapeutic, and she did love Beatrice’s vehicles.
When Beatrice informed her that the housekeeper wouldn’t be coming, Sydney had expected to find herself objecting to taking on more tasks. Yet she hadn’t; she’d simply agreed. Was she enjoying caring for Beatrice more than she realised?
Although the woman displayed an inability to express her thanks verbally, she could feel some sense of gratitude from her, whether Beatrice knew she was exuding it or not. This didn’t mean she wouldn’t appreciate the occasional thank-you from her — if only to make the point that the woman could show some verbal appreciation. The extra housekeeping chores were manageable so far. Alex wasn’t a typical teenager. He cleaned up after himself, particularly in the kitchen, and did his own laundry. She would be counting the days to his return.
The Rolls was far from dirty, but she’d still feel a sense of satisfaction that within the hour she would have achieved something tangible, something she could look at and know she’d completed. It was so unlike the long work in progress that was editing. Her brain was desperate for a break from writing—or rewriting in this case. It was fuzzy and foggy and rarely performed well under those conditions.
She’d extracted about ten career-turning moments that led Beatrice to her current position on the world acting stage. This then led Sydney down a rabbit hole of restructuring entire chapters to create more of a story arc, including some emotional response to those moments and the setbacks Beatrice had experienced along the way.
She was looking forward to more downtime that evening, when she planned to escape for a drink with Rosie, who was back from her honeymoon. She was due a night off, but whether Beatrice would agree or not was another matter. The woman could surely cope for a few hours without her — even a puppy could manage that.
She rubbed the wash mitten over the bonnet of the Rolls, covering it in a thick soap. Her mind drifted to the thought of Beatrice in a lesbian film — she’d have to avoid that. She was struggling enough as it was. Her body was very much pointing at Beatrice and waving at her, wondering if the communication system between them was broken and why her brain was ignoring its signals. It was totally unaware of who Beatrice was and every reason that nothing could ever happen. She wasn’t sure how many more baths — let alone topless lesbian scenes — she could handle.
It filled her with pride, though, that Alex was comfortable telling her about his nickname. Her blood boiled to think his peers were bullying him about it. So what if his actress mother played a lesbian role? It didn’t make her a lesbian, and it wouldn’t matter if she was. Kids were cruel; cruel and stupid.
Her mind wandered as she reached further up the bonnet, imagining that Beatrice liked women, one woman in particular — her. She imagined Beatrice using her slow, low-pitched voice to call her into her bedroom as she passed,Sydney. Come here. She’d turn to see Beatrice in her red silk slip, beckoning her with a demanding finger, a finger that couldn’t and wouldn’t be disobeyed. As she entered, the finger turned its attentions to the straps on her red slip, teasing them from her own shoulders and dropping it to the floor to reveal…
“Oh, God.” Sydney groaned.
A wolf whistle from beside her yanked her from finishing her train of thought.Damn it.She pulled herself upright to find her denim shorts and bikini top covered in foam.
A man stood in the driveway behind her watching, a grin slapped across his face. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt… whatever it was you were doing there. Carry on, don’t mind me.”
Sydney brushed the foam off herself and paused the music on her phone. What did he think she’d been doing? She’d only been reaching up the bonnet whilst gyrating a little to the music and avoiding catching her groin on the gold Spirit of Ecstasy. This was one sick man if he’d put all that together and come up with what she thought he’d come up with.
The skinny, dark-haired man in his fifties, sporting a five o’clock shadow, was without a doubt, Peter. A dark blue BMW sat further down the drive. She must have been so distracted she hadn’t heard it pull up or even the footsteps across the gravel as he approached. Not that she’d put it past Beatrice’s ex to creep his way across the driveway to enjoy whatever it was he found so enjoyable.
Alex opened the side garden gate that led along to the pool, full of enthusiasm.
“Hey, Dad! I’ve just had a swim. Give me ten minutes and I’ll be ready to go.”
“No worries, dude.”
Alex retraced his steps, his head down. Something had suddenly rattled him; Sydney had noticed the same thing when he’d greeted his mum the first time.
The smell of rank smoke wafted under her nose. She turned to find Peter sucking on a cigarette a few feet from where she stood.
“Do you mind?” she asked. “It’s hard enough cleaning this barge-size car without suffocating on your second-hand smoke.”
Peter stepped back. “The view’s better from here anyway.”
Seriously?
Once she’d rinsed the car off, she noticed Peter, whom she’d made a point of completely ignoring, had disappeared. Raised voices from Beatrice’s bedroom balcony told her where he’d relocated.
Alex came down the path then, carrying his bag. Sydney watched him as he put it down and held his phone in front of him. His eyes were elsewhere, his concentration fixed on the screaming match between his parents. Why adults argued within earshot of their kids, she’d never know; it was so damaging. Every relationship within this family was toxic. It was hard for Sydney to swallow, coming as she did from a loving family that would have done anything to be together now.
Alex took out some AirPods and inserted them into his ears, glancing up at her as he sought to drown out the voices with more pleasant ones. She offered him a sympathetic smile, which fell flat in mid-air. There was no sugar-coating this kind of behaviour.
Sydney turned her attentions back to the Rolls and towelled down its paintwork with one eye on Alex. Peter materialised a few moments later with a smirk slapped on his face. He ruffled Alex’s hair as he passed and picked up his bag. Alex ducked and pulled out his AirPods.
