Faith - Lesley Pearse [222]
It was freezing cold, and Belle turned up the collar of her mink coat as she walked to Jackie’s door. She glanced through the kitchen window before knocking, and saw her sister sitting at the table wrapping up presents, surrounded by reels of coloured ribbon and rolls of paper. The kitchen looked festive with coloured lights strung along the dresser shelves, and she’d even hung some Chinese lanterns shaped like comic turkeys from the old beams.
Belle tapped on the window and Jackie waved and beckoned for her to come in.
Jackie wasn’t drunk, but she’d clearly had a couple of drinks, and she had a Christmas tape of Johnny Mathis playing. She giggled and said she hoped Belle wouldn’t tell anyone what she listened to, or she’d lose all credibility.
She teased Belle too for wearing a mink coat. She said she should have sold it years ago before it became politically incorrect to own one. Then she poured her sister a glass of red wine, and asked what had brought her round.
‘I can’t go on like this,’ Belle burst out. ‘I hate Scotland. I hate you despising us because Charles killed Barney, and I want out.’
Jackie stared at her as if she were speaking a foreign language. She was wearing a Fair Isle sweater and jeans tucked into long green boots. Belle thought Fair Isle sweaters were an abomination, but even she had to admit that Jackie looked lovely in it with her tousled curls showering down on to her shoulders. ‘Well, go then,’ she said eventually. Just tell me when and I’ll get someone in to run Kirkmay until I can decide what to do with it.’
‘You don’t mind then?’ Belle asked.
‘Why should I?’ Jackie shrugged. ‘Let’s face it, you aren’t making a success of the place, there is no return on my investment either. Go with my blessing. I’ll be glad not to have to see Charles around. Where are you planning to go? Back to London?’
‘We aren’t sure yet,’ Belle said, feeling just a little flustered because it had been so easy. ‘It depends.’
‘On what? Whether you can drag Charles away from the golf club?’ Jackie laughed.
‘No. On how much you can give us,’ Belle replied.
Jackie stood up and leaned against the Aga rail. She folded her arms, something she always did when she anticipated trouble. ‘Run that past me again! I don’t think I heard it quite right. You want me to pay you to leave here?’
‘Well, we haven’t got any money,’ Belle shrugged. ‘You know that.’
‘Yes I do, because you spend every penny you get,’ Jackie said. ‘Kirkmay could make you an excellent living if you lived within your means, but I see that once again you’ve been to the hairdresser’s, are wearing new boots, and I suspect that’s a new outfit under the old coat. I reckon that little lot alone came to something like three hundred pounds.’
‘I have to look nice. I’ve got an image to uphold.’
Jackie spluttered with derisive laughter. ‘An image to uphold! Your image around here is that you are a toffee-nosed Londoner who doesn’t give a toss whether anyone stays at her guest house. No one would take any notice if you were suddenly to appear in a floral pinny and a headscarf over your hair rollers. In fact I think they’d prefer that!’
They argued for some time, but Jackie remained adamant she wasn’t helping out any more. She wasn’t nasty, but very firm. She said if they wanted to leave that was fine, but they’d have to finance it themselves.
The phone rang and Jackie went upstairs to answer it, giving Belle the idea it was a man friend calling. As Jackie went up the stairs she called back down asking Belle to make a pot of tea.
As Belle got the teapot off the dresser, she saw the document lying there, half covered by a biscuit tin. She could see the name Laura Brannigan, and curiosity made her pull it out to see what it was about.
As she read it she felt as though she’d been kicked in the stomach, for it was a deed of gift. Jackie was giving the farm away to Laura! As she stood there in the Christmassy kitchen, she couldn’t believe her sister could do this to her.
A mere friend