AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m working on the”—Liam racked his sleep-addled brain, trying to remember what he’d heard Ambrose telling his mum—“play with him. Is this some sort of emergency, Mrs Newman?”
The voice changed, became smooth, and almost coquettish. “Please, it’s Ms. So how’s my boy doing? Isn’t he talented?” There was something odd about the way she spoke that Liam couldn’t quite put his finger on.
“From what I’ve seen he’s a very good actor,” he answered truthfully.
“He gets that from me, y’know.” There it was again, that slight slurring. “I could have been a real star, moved to LA, made it big. But no, I chose to have children instead, and by the time they were old enough to take care of themselves, I’d missed my chance at the big time.” Liam wasn’t sure what he was meant to say to that. There was a sigh, then she said, “Well, I do have some projects in the works. Has Ambrose told you about them?”
Liam had no idea who she thought he was. Someone important? Or maybe she just talked like this to everyone. “Ah…”
“I was nominated for a Gold Logie,” she continued. “I had my photograph taken with Bert Newton, but someone’s come into my flat and stolen it.”
“They stole your Gold Logie?”
She snorted. “I was nominated. I should have won, but it’s rigged, you know.” She sighed and when she spoke again her voice was oddly tremulous. “Someone stole my photograph. It might be Ambrose. He won’t tell me where it is.”
God. Liam’s stomach twisted. He had no idea what he was dealing with exactly, but something was very wrong with Bella Newman.
“He’s very talented,” she said, “but I think he’s jealous.”
“I don’t think Ambrose took your photograph, Ms. Newman,” Liam said woodenly. Not that he knew a thing about Ambrose and his potential photo-kleptomania, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if there hadn’t even been a photograph to begin with. “I’ll tell Ambrose you called,” he said, disconnecting the call.
Then he slipped the phone back into Ambrose’s pocket and lay back down and stared at the ceiling for a very long time, wondering what the hell Ambrose spent his days dealing with. Because she might have been famous once, but Bella Newman was… Liam didn’t know how to put it, even in his own head, except to say that Bella Newman wasn’t all there.
Ambrose was hungover the next morning and wore his dark sunglasses all through breakfast with the family. When Mum asked what they had planned for the day, Ambrose whispered, “Death.” But in the end, he agreed to go for a swim instead.
The pool was behind the house, in a fenced-in oasis of native shrubs and groundcover. Half of it was covered by a shade sail, so no matter how hard the sun was beating down in the summer, the pool was always cool. It didn’t need the shade sail today—the clouds were still low and heavy, although the rain had stopped. Grandad had been listening to the weather reports which said the rain was continuing further upstream, which meant the local creeks might flood. Liam wasn’t too worried about that. Mild local flooding wasn’t unusual around the district this time of year, and they were on high enough ground at Connelly Estate that they wouldn’t be too badly affected. One of the tributaries of Middle Creek ran smack across the bottom of the long driveway, but Liam didn’t think they’d have any trouble getting through on Tuesday morning in Orhan’s HiLux. The rain had two days to clear before it was an issue, anyway.
They weren’t the only ones using the pool. Liam’s breakfast suggestion had been heartily taken up by his sisters, so now Orhan and Bridget were standing in the shaded shallow end, very gently pushing Balian back and forth between them on some inflatable contraption. Riley was lounging on the steps, engrossed by her phone, which Liam was sure would end in disaster, but hey, it was her funeral.
Neve and Marcus were in the deep end, resting their arms on the side of the pool, their heads close together as they whispered and smiled like the sickening lovebirds they were.
And Ambrose lurked in the shallow end, hunched down so the water was up to his neck, and stared morosely at everything through his sunglasses.
Liam slid through the water to him. “How’s the hangover?”
“I have so many life choices to regret but drinking with your grandfather is at the top of the list,” Ambrose said.
John Phillip wandered along the side of the pool, stared at Liam, then at the shut pool gate like he wanted it to magically open and let him back outside the pool area, then back at Liam. Liam ignored him.
“I think Grandad would take that as a compliment,” he said, and Ambrose’s mouth twitched into a grin.
“It really is beautiful here,” Ambrose said at last, spreading his fingers on the surface of the water and wriggling them to make tiny waves dance. “It must have been great growing up here.” He looked away. “And your family is awesome.”
Liam’s heart clenched for a moment, as he thought of the phone call last night with Ambrose’s mother. It was pretty easy to imagine that Ambrose’s upbringing had been incredibly different from his own, and not just because Liam had grown up here and Ambrose had grown up in Macquarie Fields. There was something not quite right with Ambrose’s mother, and Liam wondered how long it had been going on. It made his chest ache to think of Ambrose navigating a childhood where he couldn’t count on a parent to be there for him.
“Hey,” he said softly, “so I don’t know if you’ve checked your phone today, but your mum called last night.”
Behind the sunglasses, Ambrose’s face froze.
“I answered it,” Liam said. “I told her you were rehearsing.”
“What’d she want?” Ambrose asked, his voice rasping a little.
“She thinks you stole some photograph.”
Ambrose snorted and looked away. “Yeah,” he said. “Sounds about right. Don’t tell anyone, okay? About how she is. Please.”
“I wouldn’t,” Liam said. “Is there anything that?—?”
