Page 125 of For Love or Money
Rafe was obviously baffled, but Stella was grateful that he didn’t ask any more questions. He drove back to the hotel and led her straight to the bar.
‘I think you could do with a drink,’ he said, eyeing her with concern.
She nodded. She felt dazed, and she was grateful that he was taking over. She sank onto a seat while Rafe went to the bar. What the hell had she been thinking? How could she have imagined for one second that her mother might have been happy to see her? She had been kidding herself. Her parents were a pair, united in everything, including their rejection of her. It was probably true what her mother had said, that she’d driven her father to an early grave. That kind of hatred was poisonous, corrosive – maybe it had eaten away at his heart until there was nothing left.
Rafe came back with whiskey and sandwiches. ‘You hardly ate anything last night,’ he said, pushing the plate towards her. ‘You should have something.’
Stella ate and drank mindlessly, her mind in a whirl.
‘I booked the rooms for another night,’ Rafe told her, ‘so you can take all the time you need.’
She nodded gratefully.
‘So that funeral ...’ Rafe prodded gently.
‘It was my father’s.’ Stella took a gulp of whiskey.
‘I’m sorry,’ Rafe said.
Stella shrugged. ‘There was no love lost. As you could probably tell.’
‘But I thought—I mean Dad said—’
‘That my parents were dead.’ Stella nodded. ‘I know. He knows it’s not true, but that’s what I tell people.’ She sighed. ‘They disowned me. Threw me out when I was sixteen, and I haven’t seen them since. So I tell people they’re dead. It’s just ... easier.’ She took another swig of her drink. ‘At least, I thought it was.’ Suddenly it felt very complicated, and she was overwhelmed with weariness from it all – the pretending and lying and hiding.
Rafe still looked confused. She could tell he had a million questions, and she was hugely grateful to him for not asking any of them. All he asked was ‘Another?’ as she drained her glass. She nodded and he went to the bar.
He’d just gone when Dan walked into the lounge. His eyes darted around, scanning the room, and she stood and waved him over.
‘Dan, what are you doing here?’
Wordlessly, he pulled her into a hug, his arms wrapped tightly around her as he pulled her into the pillowy softness of his body, as if trying to absorb all the hurt of a lifetime. She laid her head on his chest and for a moment they just stood there, holding each other.
‘Jesus, Stella!’ He released her and they flopped down onto the couch beside each other. ‘Never a dull moment with you around. What a fucking circus!’
‘I know.’ She bit her lip. ‘I shouldn’t have come. It was a stupid idea.’
He sighed and leaned back against the sofa. ‘Well, you certainly livened things up,’ he said, smirking. ‘I’ve never seen anyone being chased away from a funeral before.’
Stella couldn’t help smiling back at him, her brother’s laid-back attitude dispelling her gloom.
‘At least you gave them all something to talk about.’
‘Is this guy bothering you?’
Stella looked up to see Rafe scowling down at Dan.
‘Seriously?’ Dan grinned, raising his eyebrows at Stella. ‘Mr Fucking Darcy is threatening me?’
Stella giggled. ‘I’m fine, Rafe. This is Dan. My brother.’ Rafe put the drinks on the table. ‘Dan, this is Rafe.’
‘Your brother?’ Rafe raised his eyebrows at Stella before extending a hand to Dan. ‘Pleased to meet you.’
‘Yes, I have a brother,’ she said to Rafe as he sat opposite. She didn’t know if it was the whiskey or finally publicly acknowledging Dan after all these years, but she felt quite giddy.
‘Dan, will you have a drink?’ Rafe asked him.
‘No, thanks. I have to get back to Dad’s send-off, unfortunately.’ He turned to Stella. ‘I brought you something,’ he said, reaching into his pocket. ‘I was looking through all the old photos for one to put on Dad’s coffin, and I found this.’ He handed her an old photograph, wrinkled at the edges. It was her and Dan, both in their teens, dressed up for some school disco.
