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Impossible to Forget(3)

Author:Imogen Clark

‘Hang on,’ he said, sitting up in his seat, suddenly alert. ‘Angie said what? That I’d move in? Well, that’s a total non-starter. There’s no way . . . I mean, what was she thinking? I can’t do that. Of course I can’t.’

His eyes flicked around the room, desperately looking for support from the others, but they sat in silence – no doubt, the solicitor thought, delighted that this particular imposition had not landed at their feet.

‘I’ve got stuff to do, you know?’ he continued to protest. ‘Places to be. I’m supposed to go to Guatemala to meet some buddies next month and then I was planning on heading down to South Africa for Christmas. Does she really expect me just to drop all my plans to babysit her daughter? And for a YEAR! It’s ridiculous.’ He sat back in his chair, arms crossed, as if this was the final word on the subject.

Romany was sitting very still, clearly not wanting to draw attention to herself, the daughter in need of a babysitter. One by one the others seemed to remember that she was present, and glances passed between Maggie and Leon before Leon spoke.

‘Come on, Tiger,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Think of where you are. This isn’t the time.’

For a moment Tiger looked irritated, but then he softened. ‘Look, I’m sorry, Romany. I know none of this is your fault, but you can see how it is. It’s just not practical. I’m a free spirit, you know. I’ve never even had a place in England. I just come and go as the mood takes me. That’s how it’s always been. Your mum knew that. I thought she understood.’

Romany nodded but she didn’t lift her eyes from her shoes. The solicitor was beginning to question the wisdom of having her present at this meeting at all, but her client had been insistent about that, too.

‘It’s okay,’ the girl said, her voice barely above a whisper. ‘I’ll be fine on my own. Like the solicitor lady said, I am over eighteen and Mum has left me the money I’ll need. Really. Please don’t worry about me. You can call in when you’re around to make sure I’m okay. And you can tell me about your travels. I’d love to hear where you’ve been.’ She gave Tiger a valiant smile. Oh, she was one tough cookie, this one.

‘Thanks, love,’ he said, as if this was a decision made. Relief was radiating from him like the stench of stale sweat from a runner.

The solicitor pondered. Whilst she and her client had discussed the possibility of her friends rejecting her requests, Angie had been so adamant that it wouldn’t happen that they had failed to make a contingency plan. Now a mild but growing sense of unease was taking root. This whole situation was so unusual that she really had no feel for how best to proceed. Romany was of age so there was no practical problem if Tiger refused to move in, but it did render Angie’s statement of wishes somewhat superfluous.

She was about to comment when Leon spoke.

‘That’s just not good enough, Tiger,’ he said, his harsh tone at odds with his rather mouse-like appearance. ‘Angie wanted you to stay with Romany and the least you can do is try to make that happen. It’s only for a year, whilst she finishes her A levels. It’s hardly a life-long commitment.’

‘Well, I don’t see you offering to move in,’ Tiger snapped back.

‘I’d do it in a heartbeat,’ Leon replied, ‘but it’s not as easy for me. I work away a lot, and long hours too. It just wouldn’t be practical. You’ve got no job, no partner, no ties. It’s like you’ve always said, you are free to go where the wind blows you.’

The solicitor saw Maggie roll her eyes.

‘And for a while,’ Leon continued, ‘that needs to be here in York, in Angie’s flat.’

‘But that’s the point!’ said Tiger, frustration making him sound more like a child than a man in his fifties. ‘I need to be free to roam, man. It’s who I am.’

‘For God’s sake,’ muttered Maggie.

‘Look,’ interrupted Hope. ‘I know I’m the outsider in this merry little gang, but could I make a suggestion?’

They all turned to look at her as if they had forgotten she was there at all. The solicitor was unclear how Hope fitted in. From the confusion on her face, it was obvious that she didn’t understand it either. She was younger than the other three, in her thirties to their fifties, and she was beautiful in a way that would make you turn and stare like you might if you saw a zebra clip-clopping down the high street. Everything about her looked as if it had been formed with purpose and great care, her eyes just the right size and shape, her nose just pointed enough but not too much so. Her hair shone with health and her skin actually glowed as if she had had a filter applied over her face.

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