Page 28
A heavy and awkward silence hung between them. Frances wasn’t sure what to add. Lucie was clearly peeved, and rightly so.
“Do you not have any support?” Lucie asked softly.
Despite her gratitude for the change in tone, Frances struggled to match it, replying “No,” more sharply than she wished. “Beyond the doctor, no one here is to know,” Frances added, trying to be gentle. There was something about this woman that invited her in, made her not want to push her offers of help away. At the moment, she was the only person who knew and, given what she’d said about her own grandmother, probably the only one who understood what she was going through.
“What about next time?” Lucie was asking. “It only gets worse, you know.”
“Yes, I am aware, thank you,” Frances replied stiffly.
“I’ve been here a week, and in that time, she’s wandered twice and almost set fire to the place. What else is she doing that you’re not seeing?”
“I’m going to install cameras. I’m sure that will help.”
Lucie’s eyebrows shot up. “You think that’s the solution? What if something happens when you’re not watching or not there to help?”
“She’s not been too bad up to now,” Frances said, trying to justify what she knew was unjustifiable.
“How do you know?”
Frances took a deep breath to steady herself. Ignoring the question, she said, “I think she’s unsettled by everything going on around her.”
“That’s something we agree on.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Frances pleaded. “I have a business to run.”
“Your mum is more important than bricks and mortar.”
Frances sniffed. “These bricks are of national historical importance. The hall employs four hundred and fifty-two people.”
“Exactly!” Lucie snapped, raising her arms in frustration. “It has an army of staff. Who does Rose have?”
Silence wrapped around them again.
“I have to go,” Lucie said finally, stepping around Frances towards the front door. “Or I’ll need to come up with another lie for my supervisor about why I’m late.”
“I didn't ask you to lie,” Frances pointed out, but as Lucie huffed and put her hands on her hips, she instantly regretted it.
“Where would you be now if I hadn’t? You’re just some sort of entitled — or should that be titled...”
“Oh, don’t stop. Tell me what you really think,” Frances said through her teeth, crossing her arms as she waited for a reply.
Lucie bit her lip.
“I don’t have a title, except CEO of the Winterbourne Heritage Trust. Which is a job I worked hard for. As for my birthright, I couldn’t help being born. None of what you see is mine or my mum’s.”
Lucie’s mouth gaped open. “What? It isn’t even your house?”
“No one owns buildings like this. We are merely custodians. It belonged to my grandfather, who, shortly before his death, suspected that his eldest son wouldn’t show up and do his job — and he was right,” Frances said. “He set up the trust to ensure the continuity of the family legacy, enabling my dad to take over, alongside Mum. Then me when the time came.”
“And where is your dad?”
Frances looked down. “We lost him a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry. So why are you even here, with the risk your mum poses?”
“It’s her home,” Frances replied firmly, her head snapping back up. “My home. I fear her moving somewhere else may make her worse.”
“She won't get better.”
