Sara’s upper lip curled. “If you married outside the group, they’d lose their open bank account.”
“And lose their talentless, adoring audience,” Meena said. It was the first time there was a hint of anger in her voice. “They told me I was worth much more than a village lawyer.”
“Elevating you and tearing you down at the same time,” Sara said.
Kate spoke up. “Byon said you were devastated by Clive breaking up with you. He said you probably cried for years.”
Again there was a knock on the door. Two women came in bearing trays loaded with tea, little sandwiches, scones and clotted cream. They set them down, then left.
The women only had tea, but Jack dug into the food.
“They all work for you?” Sara asked.
“Yes.” Meena didn’t elaborate. “Byon. How is he?”
“He’s in love with Jack,” Kate said. “He plays piano and Jack sings.”
Meena looked at him. “I can see that. You’re just his type. Do you know you look like—?”
“Yes,” Jack said quickly. “Everyone has told me.” He was on his fourth sandwich.
Meena took a breath. “It was over twenty years ago, but it’s still hard to speak of. I know everyone thinks I left because Clive broke up with me, but that’s not true. I think I wanted him to dump me. That way I’d be the innocent one.”
Sara smiled. “You pursued him until he got rid of you.”
“I think so,” Meena said. “At the time, I didn’t realize that’s what I was doing, but I wasn’t destroyed when the bastard so coldly told me to get out of his life. I think I figured that what would happen is that we’d end our engagement, I’d cry awhile, then we’d all go back to being our little family.”
“And no one would ever again nag you to marry bad-tempered, unhappy Clive,” Kate said.
“Exactly,” Meena said. “They really are a very talented group of people. Has Byon put on a play for you? No? He will.” She looked at Jack. “He’ll write one just for you. With original songs.”
Jack’s face so drained of color that he looked like he might pass out.
Meena laughed in delight. “He will definitely write for you.”
“If it wasn’t Clive, then what did cause you to leave?” Sara asked.
Meena’s voice got lower. “It was Nicky.” She paused to breathe deeply, as though to give herself strength. “After Sean and Diana disappeared, I went to him in private. I knew he liked both of them more than he let on. Nicky liked to be thought of as an Oscar Wilde clone, that he was above such petty emotions as a need for love.”
“Or approval from his father,” Sara said.
Meena shook her head. “How they despised each other!”
“What did Nicky say when you went to him?” Kate asked.
“He...” Meena took a moment to calm herself. “His words are emblazoned on my brain. I still remember them verbatim. Nicky said, ‘We’re all tired of feeling sorry for you. And right now we don’t have time to give you sympathy, no matter how much you pay us to do so.’ Then he slammed the door in my face.”
“That’s horrible,” Kate said. “He—”
Meena put up her hand. “It’s all right. I needed that wake-up call. I knew he was telling the truth.”
“As he saw it,” Jack shot out.
“No, as it really was. I think I was some ravenous plant that fed off sympathy. Were you told about my family?”
They nodded.
“My siblings are selfishness personified.”