Page 78 of Be More Capybara

Helen emerged from the kitchen. ‘You need to go.’

‘But I’m not flying out to New York until Monday.’

She was scowling at him, her arms crossed. ‘I know that. I mean, go, as in leave this house and don’t come back.’

His heart was thundering in his chest. This wasn’t happening, surely. ‘What have I done?’

‘You lied to me.’

‘When?’

‘Less than half an hour ago. That appointment on Tuesday isn’t an old one at all. You’re being investigated for fraud.’

He was speechless. How had she come to that conclusion?

She must’ve guessed what he was wondering. ‘I looked at your emails. I know I shouldn’t have done, but I’m still traumatised by Angus lying to me, so I had to know.’

‘I’m not a fraudster, Helen. Surely you know that?’

‘You would say that, wouldn’t you.’

‘No, I …’

‘Trying to come up with a good cover story, Nigel? Don’t waste your time and mine. I want you to leave.’ Her voice was amazingly calm. He’d never seen her play the ice queen before.

‘I can’t tell you all the ins and outs of it. I’ve signed an NDA.’

She huffed. ‘That’s very convenient. Are you going to leave now, like I’ve asked you to?’

He could see Harry standing at the top of the stairs. ‘Mum, are you ok?’

‘I will be when Nigel’s left.’ She kicked his bag towards him along the polished wood floor.

Harry jogged down the stairs. ‘You heard her. Fuck off.’

Nigel weighed up his chances. He wasn’t going to suffer the indignity of Harry helping him out of the house. He grabbed his bag and his laptop.

‘I’ll call you later,’ he said.

‘Don’t bother. I’ve blocked your number,’ Helen said as she followed him to the door.

As he stepped onto the drive, she slammed it behind him with a sickening sense of finality.

How the hell are you going to fix this, Nige?

There were no other cars on the drive at the Grange when Nigel pulled up outside. He let himself in the back door.

‘Hello.’

No response. Of course. His mother and Klaus would be on their way to Heathrow ready to fly out to New York. And Mark and Lucy were often out in the middle of the day. Alone again, Nige.

His stomach rumbled. He realised he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. But he couldn’t face food. He put his laptop on the kitchen table, made a mug of tea, and sat down.

He opened up the laptop. Once he’d entered his password, his calendar appeared on the screen, and that damned appointment. Why had he lied about it?

He’d panicked, that’s why. He wasn’t meant to tell a soul what was going on.

He’d told Madison, though, when it all blew up last year. She’d laughed. ‘You’re too honest, Nigel. You should’ve turned a blind eye to those figures. How do you think my father earned his fortune? You don’t make millions from emptying septic tanks without cooking the books sometimes.’