Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
He gives me a long look but says nothing. Then he fiddles with the radio until he finds some music. Then we sit in silence.
The tall gates swing open as we approach the beach shack. The palms and olive trees are lit to perfection from below, and a cool salty wind is blowing. The sprawling midcentury mansion is as impressive as last time.
There are a lot of differences between Alistair and me, with our families and lifestyles and finances. But I’m not sure much of it matters. Maybe it’s like Mom said: either you care enough to be there and do the hard work or not.
Lady Helena and Dougal stand waiting by the door. Her tousled hair is piled atop her head as always, and she’s wearing an ornate floaty cream silk evening dress with diamonds around her neck and a pair of flip-flops on her feet. Because of course she is. “Hello, darlings!”
Alistair nods.
“We’ve received an update. There was some sort of holdup and he’ll now be here in time for breakfast. I believe the menu will consist of lumpy porridge, tepid weak tea that’s been strained through an unwashed sock, and cold burnt toast with no butter. What do you think?”
“You’re in a right state all wound up, aren’t you, lad?” asks Dougal, placing a hand on Alistair’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get you sorted and give you a chance to clear your head.”
The two men head off to one of the two smaller buildings at the back of the property.
Lady Helena frowns. “I wanted to talk to my son. Am I allowed to come?”
Dougal looks back and says “No” over his shoulder.
“How rude.” Her Ladyship turns to me with an unperturbed grin. “What will you have, Lilah? Gin and tonic, brandy, a glass of red, perhaps?”
“Do you have any coffee?”
She clicks her tongue. “You Americans. Honestly.”
“Tea is also fine.”
“I should hope so,” she says. “There’s plenty of crab wontons and lobster left over from the dinner delivery if you’re hungry. A lovely wedge salad too with blue cheese and bacon and walnuts. That is one thing this country actually does well. Though the first time I was served a half a head of lettuce, I wondered what the hell was going on.”
“There’s only one thing we do well?”
“There might be more. I just haven’t found them. But you never know.”
I snort.
She smiles. Then her expression turns serious. “How is he taking the news of his father’s visit?”
I don’t know what to say. Or if I should say anything. Their mother-son relationship is complicated enough without me getting involved.
“Never mind. Dougal knows how to handle him,” she says, staring at the stone path leading through the gardens. “When I found out I was with child, it was Dougal who saw me through the pregnancy. He even held my hand and let me yell at him while I was giving birth. And some of the things I called him... Oof. A lesser man would have been brought to his knees. It would have been funny had I not been quite so preoccupied with pushing out a baby. He had such a large head. But I digress. When the press descended on us, it was Dougal who helped us move and settle here. I never would have thought he’d leave Scotland, but he’s never left my side. Apart from that time I stayed at a nudist beach resort in the Caribbean. Such a shame. Between you and me, I wouldn’t mind a look at what he’s been hiding under that kilt all these years. You can usually tell, can’t you? Some men just have a strut about them. A certain way of walking. I believe they call it big-dick energy these days?”
Her smile is knowing. Mine is the opposite. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Probably for the best.” She smiles some more. “Come along. I have a bottle of a century-old port my father was hoarding. This feels like just the occasion to finally open it.”
“I thought we were having tea.”
“You are endlessly amusing, Lilah. Just a constant delight to have around.”
“Oh, good,” I say, following Lady Helena into the house.
* * *
I hang out with Her Ladyship for an hour or so. Then I go looking for Alistair. The first building I see, half hidden behind trees, is a smaller version of the main house, a midcentury wooden construct with lots of floor-to-ceiling windows. The sliding glass door opens onto a large central room with an open lounge/kitchen/dining area, though the only furniture is a punching bag hanging from a rafter and some weights and a surfboard discarded on the other side of the room.
Dougal is bracing the bag while Alistair does his best to pound it into pieces. He’s like a machine, slamming his fists into it over and over again. The only sounds in the room are his labored breathing and the thwack of each impact. And the only item of clothing on him is a pair of basketball shorts. His skin glistens with sweat beneath the low lighting.