Page 165 of Wife After Wife
“Suvarna saw him pat her on the bottom, and then he groped it. And he’s done the same to her.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Please don’t blaspheme.”
Harry took a bite of sausage, thinking. These claims weren’t a big surprise—anyone could see Cranwell was a lech. But he’d thought the man wouldn’t be stupid enough to act on his odious impulses, especially not on company premises.
Harry had been feeling uncomfortable with the lawyer since the blackmail attempt. Tom knew too much. This could, in fact, be good timing.
“I spoke to our department head, Lesley,” continued Maria. “She wants a formal written warning from you, as he’s not technically a member of staff.”
“Leave it with me. You said there were two things?”
“Yes, Father. The other one’s personal, and it’s...” She trailed off, fiddling with her napkin. She wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“Yes?”
“It’s Mother. She’s been unwell.”
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. But no doubt Welsh Wellness will work its magic.”
Maria breathed in sharply. “Why do you always have to be so...facetious? I’m telling you Mother’s sick, and all you can do is make snide comments about her life.”
“Sorry. Is it depression?”
“No, Father. She was having stomach pains. Her doctor sent her for tests and it’s cancer. She’s starting chemo next week.”
The jolt to Harry’s heart was fierce. He lowered his knife and fork, his appetite gone. “Oh no. Maria, that’s terrible news. How is she?”
“Oh, you know Mother. Brave. Still worrying about everyone else, never herself.”
“Maria—what I can do? Anything. Anything at all.”
“Pray.”
CHAPTER 50
Harry
April 2011
Bloody Mary?” said Charles to Maria.
“I don’t drink alcohol, Uncle Charles.”
“Ah, sorry. I’d forgotten. Hm. What royal-themed alternative can we come up with for you?”
“A tomato juice would be fine.”
“How about a Virgin Mary—the nonalcoholic version?”
Maria gave him a death stare. “Why would I want a drink that trivializes the name of the Holy Mother?”
Maria really wasn’t getting into the spirit.
“Righty-ho,” said Charles. “Three Bloody Marys, one tomato juice, four orange juices.”
“I’ll give you a hand,” said Harry, heaving himself out of the armchair. Easier said than done. He dropped back as his leg protested, and tried again.
