The Family Legacy Contract

Chapter Six

Sunday mornings were one of the few occasions when I could stay in bed without feeling particularly guilty about it.

I had no shift at the diner, Mrs Donnelly hadn't called about the motel, and Mrs Bellamy was quite firm in her belief that gardens ought to be left alone on Sundays, regardless of how many weeds might be threatening to take over the flowerbeds.

I woke a little after nine, made myself a cup of tea and took it back upstairs, where I opened my bedroom window to let in the cool morning air.

The street was quiet. Somewhere nearby, someone was mowing their lawn, and I could hear a dog barking intermittently at what I assumed was a perfectly innocent passerby.

I settled onto my bed with my phone, intending to spend half an hour doing absolutely nothing productive.

I'd barely opened i********: when a notification appeared.

Jess: Are you awake?

I smiled.

Me: No. I'm replying in my sleep.

Jess: Impressive. Call me.

I pressed the video icon.

Jess answered almost immediately, her face appearing at an unflattering angle as she apparently attempted to balance her phone against something.

"Morning, darling."

"Good morning."

"Hang on. Don't look at me yet."

"Too late."

"Oh, shut up."

The picture lurched sideways, briefly revealing a white ceiling, a kitchen cupboard and what appeared to be an enormous bunch of flowers before settling into place.

Jess stepped back from the camera.

She was wearing a white dressing gown with pink piping, her dark hair twisted into a loose knot on top of her head. Behind her, sunlight poured through the windows of her apartment, illuminating the little collection of framed prints and photographs she'd arranged along the wall.

"Right," she announced. "There. Much better."

"Lovely to see you too."

She grinned.

"How are you?"

"I'm good. You?"

"Exhausted. I went out last night and made several decisions that seemed perfectly reasonable at the time."

"Oh dear."

"Nothing terrible. Just expensive."

She picked up an enormous mug of coffee and took a sip.

"I spent forty dollars on a cocktail."

I stared at her.

"Forty dollars?"

"Don't."

"What was in it?"

"Apparently not enough."

I laughed.

Jess had always possessed a remarkable ability to spend money on things I would have considered completely unnecessary, although she was equally capable of finding the most extraordinary bargains when she put her mind to it. She'd once furnished almost her entire apartment using things she'd found on the street, then spent three hundred dollars on a lamp because she liked the shape of it.

It was one of the many things I loved about her.

"Anyway," she said, settling onto a stool, "tell me everything. What's happening in Willow Creek?"

"Not a great deal."

"Naturally."

"Ben's been shortlisted for that scholarship."

Her eyes widened.

"Seriously?"

I nodded.

"He's got an interview in a couple of days."

"Oh my God, Nat! That's amazing!"

"I know. We're all so excited."

"Tell him I said congratulations. Actually, tell him I expect him to come and visit me when he's a rich and successful engineer."

"I'll pass that along."

"And how are you?"

"I'm all right."

Jess narrowed her eyes.

"That was suspiciously unconvincing."

"It wasn't."

"Natalie."

I sighed.

"Ruth's cut my hours."

"Oh, sweetheart."

"It's not just me. Business has been slow, and she's trying to keep everyone on."

"How many hours?"

"About half."

Jess made a face.

"That's awful."

"It's not ideal."

"What are you going to do?"

"Pick up more work somewhere else, I suppose. Mrs Donnelly's been giving me extra shifts at the motel, and I've still got Mrs Bellamy."

"That's a lot of different jobs."

"Well, none of them is particularly demanding on its own."

"That's not quite the point."

I smiled and took a sip of tea.

Jess watched me for a moment, then apparently decided not to pursue it.

"Speaking of jobs, you'll never guess who I ran into yesterday."

"Who?"

"Emily Patterson."

I sat up.

"From school?"

"The very same."

"What's she doing in New York?"

"Apparently she moved here six months ago. She's working for some marketing company and living with a man who owns approximately seven identical grey sweaters."

"How do you know that?"

"Because she spent fifteen minutes telling me about how wonderfully minimalist their apartment is, and then showed me photographs."

I laughed.

"Perhaps he just likes grey."

"Then he must be absolutely delighted with his life."

We spent the next twenty minutes catching up on people we knew, discussing Jess's latest adventures and examining a dress she'd bought for a friend's birthday dinner.

She held it up to the camera, a beautiful deep green thing with narrow straps and a low back.

"What do you think?"

"It's gorgeous."

"Too much?"

"For what?"

"Dinner."

"Where?"

She named a restaurant I'd never heard of.

"Then I have absolutely no idea."

Jess laughed.

"Helpful."

"Well, it depends on the restaurant, doesn't it? If you're going somewhere with white tablecloths and expensive wine, I imagine you'll look lovely. If you're going to a pizza place, perhaps a little overdressed."

"God forbid."

She disappeared briefly into her bedroom, returning with the dress on a hanger.

"You need to come and visit me," she said, taking another sip of coffee.

"I know."

"No, seriously, Nat. I'm getting tired of showing you things through a phone screen. You need to actually be here."

"I'd love to."

"Then come."

"Jess."

"What?"

"I've just told you I've lost half my shifts."

"I know, but you wouldn't have to pay for anything once you got here. You could stay with me."

"On your sofa?"

"Yes, on my sofa. It's a very comfortable sofa."

"You complained about it for three months after you bought it."

I laughed, but Jess wasn't finished.

"I'm serious. You could stay as long as you wanted. A week, a month, six months. I don't care. And if you decided you wanted to stay permanently, we'd find somewhere bigger."

"Jess, you love your apartment."

"I love you more than my apartment."

I smiled at her, although there was something about the simplicity of the statement that made my chest ache a little.

"Besides," she continued, "it was supposed to be both of us here, it was always the plan."

I looked down at my tea.

"We were twelve."

"So?"

"So we also thought we'd be famous by twenty."

"We still could be."

"And that we'd marry brothers so we could have the same last name."

Jess burst out laughing.

"Oh God, I'd forgotten about that."

"You were very particular about it. They had to be identical twins, but we had to be able to tell them apart."

"Well, obviously. Otherwise it would have been confusing."

I laughed too, remembering the afternoons we'd spent lying on the carpet in her childhood bedroom, surrounded by magazines and coloured pens, planning lives that had seemed so wonderfully easy to arrange.

We'd discovered New York through a film we'd watched at a sleepover, and within a week we'd decided it was where we belonged. We'd made lists of all the places we wanted to visit, cut photographs from magazines and glued them into a scrapbook, and spent an entire summer drawing floor plans for the apartment we intended to share.

It had to have enormous windows, a balcony and a spare bedroom for our guests, although neither of us had given much consideration to how two girls who planned to become famous actresses, fashion designers and possibly veterinarians were going to afford it.

For years afterwards, whenever one of us was upset about school or boys or something our parents wouldn't let us do, the other would say, Just wait until New York.

It had become our answer to everything.

"Do you remember that apartment we designed?" Jess asked.

"Of course I do."

"The one with the pink kitchen?"

"And the swimming pool on the roof."

"And the walk-in wardrobes."

"Yours was twice the size of mine."

"Because you said you didn't need that many clothes."

"I was twelve. I didn't know any better."

She smiled, then looked past the camera towards her apartment.

"Well, I haven't quite managed the swimming pool."

"Or the pink kitchen."

"No. But I've got the city."

"You have."

"And I want you here to enjoy it with me. It's not the same without you Nat."

I didn't answer immediately.

For a moment I imagined what it would be like to wake up in Jess's apartment, to hear the traffic outside and know that I could spend the day wandering through the city with her. We could stop for coffee whenever we felt like it, visit the museums we'd talked about for years, and come home in the evening carrying shopping bags and arguing over what to order for dinner.

There would be no need to count the hours until my next shift or work out how much petrol Dad needed for the week. I could simply be somewhere new, doing something because I wanted to.

It was such an ordinary sort of freedom, really, and I wanted it so badly that sometimes I avoided thinking about it.

"Nat?"

I looked back at the screen.

"Sorry."

Jess was watching me.

"What's going on in that head of yours?"

"Nothing."

"Natalie."

I gave a small sigh.

"I just wish I'd come with you."

The words surprised me a little. I'd thought them often enough, but I couldn't remember ever saying them aloud.

Jess's expression softened.

"I know."

"I was so sure I would. Do you remember? Even after everything happened with the factory, I kept thinking I'd find a way to save enough money, and then I'd be there."

"Of course I remember."

"And then there was always something else. Dad was out of work, Mum was doing extra shifts, Ben needed things for school, and every time I thought I was getting somewhere, something would come up."

I ran my thumb around the handle of my mug.

"At first I thought I'd only be a year behind you. Then two. And now you've been gone five years, and I'm still here."

Jess was quiet.

I looked towards my bedroom window, where the morning sunlight had fallen across the photographs pinned above my desk.

"I know twenty-three isn't old," I said. "I know I've got plenty of time. But sometimes I look at everything you've done, all the places you've been and the people you've met, and I feel as though I've been standing in the same place while everyone else has been getting on with their lives."

"Oh, Nat."

"And I am happy for you," I added quickly. "You know that, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

"I love hearing about everything. I really do. I just wish I had some stories of my own to tell you."

Jess put her coffee down.

"Then come and make some."

I smiled faintly.

"It's not quite that easy."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't just leave."

"Why?"

I looked at her.

"Jess."

"No, I'm asking. Why can't you?"

"Because I've got responsibilities here."

"I know you do. But your mum and dad aren't asking you to spend the rest of your life in Willow Creek."

"I know that."

"And Ben's practically grown up. He's going off to university soon, hopefully."

"Hopefully."

"So what happens then? You stay because your parents might need something? And then in another five years you tell me you still haven't saved enough?"

I looked down.

She sighed.

"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to make you feel bad."

"I know."

"I just miss you. And I know how much you wanted this."

I swallowed.

"Me too."

For a moment neither of us spoke.

I could hear a siren somewhere beyond Jess's apartment, followed by the distant, indistinct sound of people shouting to one another in the street. She glanced towards the window, then back at me, and I found myself wishing I could turn the phone around and look out with her.

"I still have the scrapbook, you know," she said.

I looked up.

"What?"

"Our New York scrapbook. The one we made when we were twelve."

I laughed softly.

"You do not."

"I do. It's in a box under my bed."

"Jess, that thing was falling apart fifteen years ago."

"Well, it's in slightly worse condition now."

"Why on earth did you bring it with you?"

She looked almost offended.

"Because it was our plan."

I felt my eyes sting unexpectedly.

Jess smiled.

"And I wasn't going to leave it behind just because you were taking your sweet time getting here."

I laughed, blinking quickly.

"You're ridiculous."

"Yes, but I'm right."

I looked down at my tea, which had gone cold in my hands.

"I really do want to come."

"I know you do, darling."

"I just need to work out how."

"Then we'll work it out."

I nodded.

Jess let the silence settle for a moment before reaching for her coffee again.

"Anyway, enough of that. Tell me something good. Has anything interesting happened in Willow Creek, or am I going to have to listen to another story about Mrs Bellamy's roses?"

I laughed.

"There's nothing wrong with Mrs Bellamy's roses."

"I'm sure they're magnificent."

"They are, actually."

"Of course they are."

I was still smiling when my eyes fell on the business card lying beside my notebook.

"Actually, something did happen."

Jess leaned towards the camera.

"Oh?"

"Well, it might be nothing. But there's this man who's been coming into the diner..."

"Is he cute?"

I rolled my eyes.

"Jess."

"What? It's a perfectly reasonable question."

"He's a recruiter."

"That doesn't answer my question."

I laughed.

"He's about twenty years older than us, for a start."

"So? I'm not hearing a no."

"He's very well dressed, if that helps."

"Immensely. Go on."

"Anyway, he's been staying at the motel as well, and he gave me a rather enormous tip the other day."

"How enormous?"

"Five hundred dollars."

Jess stared at me.

"I'm sorry?"

"I know."

"Five hundred dollars? For what?"

"Cleaning his room."

She blinked.

"Nat."

"What?"

"Was he naked?"

"Jess!"

"I'm asking a perfectly reasonable question."

"No, he wasn't naked!"

"Well, that's disappointing."

I laughed.

"He was just being generous."

"Very generous."

"Anyway, his name is Adrian Williams, and he works for a recruitment company. We got talking at the diner on Friday, and when I mentioned Ruth had cut my hours, he said he might be able to help me find something else."

Jess looked interested.

"What sort of job?"

"I'm not entirely sure. He said they do specialist placements, and they're particularly interested in people who are willing to travel."

"Well, that sounds promising."

"Possibly. He gave me his card and suggested we arrange a meeting."

"Have you looked him up?"

"Yes. The company's called Meridian Placement Group. They've got a website, and he was listed on there. It all looks quite professional."

"So what's stopping you?"

I glanced at the card again.

"I don't know. I suppose I can't imagine what sort of job he'd have for someone like me."

"Well, there's one way to find out."

"True."

"And if he's offering you a meeting, presumably he thinks there's something worth discussing."

"Perhaps."

She took another sip of coffee.

"What's the worst that happens? You go, he tells you there's nothing suitable, and you come home."

"That's what I was thinking."

"Then go."

I looked at the card lying beside my notebook.

Adrian Williams. Meridian Placement Group.

I'd spent so long thinking about the things I couldn't afford to do that it hadn't really occurred to me how little it would cost to ask a question.

"Maybe I will."

Jess gave me a look.

"Nat, I'm not saying you have to take a job halfway across the country. Just find out what he's offering."

"I know."

"And if it's something good, brilliant. If it isn't, you've lost an hour of your life."

"Perhaps two. He seems quite talkative."

"Well, there you go. A very manageable risk."

I laughed.

"All right. I'll call him."

"Good."

"But I'm not promising anything."

"I didn't ask you to."

She smiled, then added, more gently, "I just want you to have the chance to do something you actually want to do."

I looked at her for a moment.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

She glanced at the time on her phone and made a face.

"Oh, God. I've got to go. I'm supposed to be meeting someone for brunch, and I'm still in my dressing gown."

"Then you'd better get moving."

"I will. But Nat?"

"Yes?"

"The sofa's yours whenever you want it."

I smiled.

"I know."

"And I'm not joking about finding a bigger apartment."

"I know that too."

"Good. Love you."

"Love you too."

The screen went dark, leaving me sitting on my bed with my cold tea and the sound of the lawnmower drifting through the open window.