“Hardly,” he scoffed. He knew I’d never be the man he was. He looked around at the dirty dishes in the sink, the empty alcohol bottles on the counters, and he shook his head. He and I both knew I was in a deep hole.
But his mind had been made up. He’d issued me the terms of the agreement, non-negotiable. “The ball’s in your court,” he told me as he left the room, then the house.
I didn’t typically start drinking straight away. I usually waited until the late afternoon to start, letting the pain build, even adding to it with a punishing workout in my home gym. Pain was my closest companion. And I always knew I had a glass of scotch waiting for me at the end of it all to take the sweet edge off.
But after my father left, I wasted no time before drinking straight out of the bottle. Goddamn it. Clean up my act? What the hell did that mean?
He wanted Annie to move in with me? That was a disaster waiting to happen. She had no place in the life I led. She’d be chirpy and annoyingly loud during hangovers. Disapproving and shocked about the company I kept. Vic alone would tear Annie up, rip her to shreds.
Only Annie did seem to have some pluck. She’d told me I wasn’t exactly the Phantom of the Opera. That was kind of a good one, actually.
That kind of teasing banter reminded me of Sophie, my baby sister. She’d moved back to Naugatuck Island where we’d spent our summers as kids, where I’d gotten into the accident. She’d like that line about the Phantom. She’d like Annie, too.
But that didn’t matter. Annie couldn’t move in with me.
If she did, the only way it would work is if we both kept our distance. The estate was big. She could stay in the wing on the second floor. My bedroom, bathroom and home gym were in the wing on the first. I could avoid her and if she knew what was best for her, she’d do the same. Distance would be the key to keeping the beast at bay. I’d just need an outlet for all the pent-up sexual frustration.
Right on cue, a knock sounded at the door. It was dark outside. I checked my phone.
* * *
Vic: You around?
* * *
She’d sent it an hour ago. After I didn’t respond, apparently she’d decided to take matters into her own hands. Another knock. Vic had arrived. Let the games begin. Too bad I felt so damned bored, not at all how I’d feel if it were Annie at the door. I’d welcome her straight into the heart of darkness. Right where she belonged, with me.
3
Annie
The lamplight shone across my brother Brian’s sleeping face, yet he remained unaware, adrift in dreamland, a hint of a smile on his lips. I sketched quickly, charcoal to paper, moving in broad strokes. Any second, my sisters or he might awaken, ruining the moment I wanted to capture: innocence, pure, simple and sweet on his sleeping 13-year-old face.
I worried about Brian now that he was entering his teen years. It was one thing to have Down syndrome as a child, developmentally and mentally delayed but still able to interact with peers on many levels. As a teenager, the world around him was changing fast. He, however, was the same honest, kind boy, open-hearted and friendly to everyone.
If only he were at a better school. I knew our mother worried about that all the time. He got picked on where he was, bullied and isolated. They didn’t have the resources for a proper special education program. On days I wasn’t working, sometimes I just kept him home with me. But the school didn’t like that much, and I knew he did need to socialize and learn to the best of his abilities.
“That’s good, around the mouth,” my sister, Liv, whispered by my side.
“You think?” I hadn’t heard her come in the room. At 15, she still looked like a tiny pixie and moved like one, too.
“The eyes, too.” She nudged me. “So talented. Shame you’re stuck here with us, eh?”
I shook my head, focusing on the sketch. I hadn’t captured his nose yet. I’d start over, but I didn’t have time. Our mum had left for work an hour ago. Liv and Jess were old enough to fend for themselves, but they always appreciated it when I made something hot for breakfast. Especially on a cold February morning like this one, some bangers and eggs would do the trick.
Brian opened his eyes. First thing, he smiled. Show me another 13-year-old boy who did that. We had a winner with our Brian.
“Morning, Bri.” I gave him a hug before heading into the kitchen.
Frying up meat, cracking eggs, my mind wandered as it had many times over the past few days back to that castle on the cliffs. What would working there have been like? Living with that man, so surly and growling. And gorgeous.
“Thanks, Annie.” My sister Jess, 18 and on the go at all times, grabbed a sausage and ducked out of the house.
“Wait, I’ve got eggs, too.”
“Got to go!” The door closed behind her. Sometimes I felt like a mother to my own siblings, wondering how they’d grown up so fast. I’d been the accident, the love child my parents had had before they’d even married, arriving when they were just 19. They’d waited seven years to have another, and then they’d kept going, and going again.
But the fact was, Liv and Jess didn’t need me that much anymore. It was Brian who needed care, but we could have worked something out had I taken that job. Or had I been properly offered that job, I reminded myself. Ian had made it quite clear that the offer was no longer on the table.
“You angel.” Liv grabbed a plate, forked a banger and spooned herself some eggs. I had no idea how she tucked away such truckloads of food and still stayed so tiny. Me? That wasn’t exactly how it worked.
“Oh, I heard a good one yesterday.” Liv laughed at the memory with her mouth full. I resisted the urge to remind her about table manners. It was more fun to see her laugh. “Are you ready?” Liv loved dumb jokes.
“Shoot.”
“What do you call a fish with no eyes?”
“What?”
“Fff-ssshhhh.” She burst out laughing. After a second or two, I started as well, tickled by how funny she found it as much as I was by the joke. “Isn’t that funny? You say it without an ‘I’?” Liv practically had to wipe a tear from her cheek.
“You’re funny.” I pointed a fork at her, then served myself some breakfast.
“You working today?” she asked, already rising to put her plate in the sink. Nothing got between Liv and her food.
“Later I’m stopping by Mrs. Simpson’s.”
“Doing her shopping for her?”
I nodded. Odd jobs, that was what filled my time when I wasn’t working at the grocer’s. I needed to find something else, and fast. I wanted work that paid even half as much as that caretaker position, but our little town was so sleepy.
“You’re such a talented artist. You should do something with it.” Liv gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, then went to finish getting ready for school.
I didn’t reply. I didn’t want anything I said to come out bitter. I’d love to do something creative, maybe working in the field of design. But how exactly was I going to get a job in some firm working with posh clients? I didn’t have the right connections, or any credentials for that matter. Even if I had a resume, I wouldn’t know where to send it.
I helped Brian up and out, sending him and Liv off to walk to the bus for school. With dishes, laundry and cleaning the bathrooms, the morning passed in as glamorous a fashion as usual. Then I helped our neighbor, Mrs. Simpson, with a few things around the house, did her shopping, and popped into a local bakery to say hello to a friend and grab a fresh loaf of bread for dinner.
My phone rang around two o’clock. I didn’t recognize the incoming number, but I picked up.
“I’ve changed my mind,” a deep male voice informed me.
“Excuse me?” The voice sounded familiar, but I didn’t imagine it could actually be who I thought it was.
“This is Ian Douglas. I’ve changed my mind.”
It was him. A small shiver of anticipation travelled down my spine. “About what, exactly?”
“About the job.”
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“You have?” Was the man trying to be cryptic? Was he offering the job to me or not?
“I’d like you to come work here.”
“Really?”