âOne could live with Alan for fifty years and never know him.â
As always he was impeccably groomed, a light jacket over his moleskins, smart open-neck yellow-and-white checked shirt. Pleasant whiff of cologne. A dandy. Useless around Eden. He didnât need to be busy. In the early days Siggy had been afraid that her sisterâs beauty would turn Alanâs head. Of course, no such thing happened. David McClelland had been the center of her motherâs life then, only thereâd been no future for either of them.
They talked for a few moments about her long, exhausting journey getting there. âOne would have to try covering the distances to know!â Amazement was expressed that Drake McClelland had elected to fly her home. How was he?
âAs splendid as ever!â Nicole couldnât help saying, even though she knew Joel would take umbrage.
She excused herself to go to her room. Tidy herself up before she went in to see her grandmother. She didnât have a room exactly. She had almost an entire wing. Clear the furniture, and Joel and his friendscould have a polo match in her bedroom. Siggy had arranged it all in a vain bid to keep her at home. A leading decorator had been flown from Sydney to take charge of extensive refurbishments. The upshot was a suite of rooms that wouldnât have looked amiss at Versailles. All the rooms in Eden were huge by modern standards, with lofty richly decorated ceilings. When the decorator had seen the scope of his commission, he had gone crazy with joy, muttering excitedly to his sidekick about how much it would all cost. Normally very thrifty for a rich woman, Siggy had given the decorator and his team carte blanche.
It didnât add up to a decorating triumph. The designer had gone right over the top, creating lavish spaces only Marie Antoinette could have handled. Nicole would have to make a few changes even if Siggy didnât like anyone to challenge her judgment. A lot had changed since sheâd grown up and Granddad had died and left her Eden. Shifts in authority. Power. Roles.
Dinner was always at eight. She knew they would all meet downstairs in the library at half-past seven for drinks. Inside the well-appointed bathroom, with far too many mirrorsâshe wasnât that keen on an aerial view of her bottomâshe took a quick shower to freshen up. Someone, probably the dour Mrs. Barrett, had laid out soaps, body lotions, creams, potions, a series of marvelously ornate bottles containing products for the bath. That was okay. Every woman liked a bit of pampering. In a mirrored cupboard she found a variety of over-the-counter painkillers of different strengths, tubes of antiseptic cream, bandagesâin case she decided to slit her wrists? Everyone had heard herstory, knew sheâd seen a psychiatrist for years. She remembered the time when even Siggy, the hardest-headed of all, had major concerns she might turn into, if not a nutter, a complete neurotic.
Satin-bound monogrammed pink towels had been set out, along with a pink toweling robe. She slipped into it, tying the belt, then opened her suitcases and put her clothes away. She spent several minutes deciding what to wear. Finally she dressed in a simple, white linen top and matching skirt, embellished with a fancy belt. She took two regular headache tablets, and only the thought of seeing her much-loved grandmother and not-so-much-loved aunt kept her from collapsing in a heap on the bed. Her hair had more life than she did in the summer heat. She brushed it back severely, twisting the curling masses into a heavy loop.
Her grandmother Louise and Aunt Siggy were waiting for her in her grandmotherâs sitting room, which adjoined the master-bedroom suite.
âMy darling girl!â
The woman she loved most in all the world. âGran.â She flew to her, sending her aunt a sideways warm greeting. Her grandmother remained seated in her armchair, a sure sign of aching
As always he was impeccably groomed, a light jacket over his moleskins, smart open-neck yellow-and-white checked shirt. Pleasant whiff of cologne. A dandy. Useless around Eden. He didnât need to be busy. In the early days Siggy had been afraid that her sisterâs beauty would turn Alanâs head. Of course, no such thing happened. David McClelland had been the center of her motherâs life then, only thereâd been no future for either of them.
They talked for a few moments about her long, exhausting journey getting there. âOne would have to try covering the distances to know!â Amazement was expressed that Drake McClelland had elected to fly her home. How was he?
âAs splendid as ever!â Nicole couldnât help saying, even though she knew Joel would take umbrage.
She excused herself to go to her room. Tidy herself up before she went in to see her grandmother. She didnât have a room exactly. She had almost an entire wing. Clear the furniture, and Joel and his friendscould have a polo match in her bedroom. Siggy had arranged it all in a vain bid to keep her at home. A leading decorator had been flown from Sydney to take charge of extensive refurbishments. The upshot was a suite of rooms that wouldnât have looked amiss at Versailles. All the rooms in Eden were huge by modern standards, with lofty richly decorated ceilings. When the decorator had seen the scope of his commission, he had gone crazy with joy, muttering excitedly to his sidekick about how much it would all cost. Normally very thrifty for a rich woman, Siggy had given the decorator and his team carte blanche.
It didnât add up to a decorating triumph. The designer had gone right over the top, creating lavish spaces only Marie Antoinette could have handled. Nicole would have to make a few changes even if Siggy didnât like anyone to challenge her judgment. A lot had changed since sheâd grown up and Granddad had died and left her Eden. Shifts in authority. Power. Roles.
Dinner was always at eight. She knew they would all meet downstairs in the library at half-past seven for drinks. Inside the well-appointed bathroom, with far too many mirrorsâshe wasnât that keen on an aerial view of her bottomâshe took a quick shower to freshen up. Someone, probably the dour Mrs. Barrett, had laid out soaps, body lotions, creams, potions, a series of marvelously ornate bottles containing products for the bath. That was okay. Every woman liked a bit of pampering. In a mirrored cupboard she found a variety of over-the-counter painkillers of different strengths, tubes of antiseptic cream, bandagesâin case she decided to slit her wrists? Everyone had heard herstory, knew sheâd seen a psychiatrist for years. She remembered the time when even Siggy, the hardest-headed of all, had major concerns she might turn into, if not a nutter, a complete neurotic.
Satin-bound monogrammed pink towels had been set out, along with a pink toweling robe. She slipped into it, tying the belt, then opened her suitcases and put her clothes away. She spent several minutes deciding what to wear. Finally she dressed in a simple, white linen top and matching skirt, embellished with a fancy belt. She took two regular headache tablets, and only the thought of seeing her much-loved grandmother and not-so-much-loved aunt kept her from collapsing in a heap on the bed. Her hair had more life than she did in the summer heat. She brushed it back severely, twisting the curling masses into a heavy loop.
Her grandmother Louise and Aunt Siggy were waiting for her in her grandmotherâs sitting room, which adjoined the master-bedroom suite.
âMy darling girl!â
The woman she loved most in all the world. âGran.â She flew to her, sending her aunt a sideways warm greeting. Her grandmother remained seated in her armchair, a sure sign of aching
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