Read Online Where Have You Been? by Wendy James - Free Book Online

they have not spoken since the night before.
    â€˜The solicitor doesn’t know for certain,’ Susan tells him, ‘but he thinks it could be her. She’s got nothing that proves it – no documents or anything. And she’s changed her name – Carly something or other, he said. But she says she’s Karen.’
    â€˜What do you mean she says she’s Karen? Anybody could turn up and...’
    â€˜Hold on, Ed.’ Susan’s voice is remarkably even. ‘She says she’s Karen and he says she seems to have a ... a surface knowledge at least about the family.’
    â€˜Oh?’
    â€˜You know – names, important dates, that sort of thing. She knows all that. And Mr Hamilton, Howard, says there’s a certain resemblance. Going by the photograph I gave him, anyway.’
    â€˜Oh.’
    â€˜And anyway, Ed, there’d be no real reason for an impostor to turn up – you know Howard worded the notice so there was no mention of any inheritance. She doesn’t even know about the money yet.’
    â€˜Well, she mightn’t know, but it’d be easy enough to guess, wouldn’t it. Why else...’
    She switches the phone to her other ear. Takes her time.
    â€˜Hello...? Susy? Are you there?’
    â€˜Sorry.’
    â€˜I just asked what happens next. What did he say? The solicitor. How do we find out for sure if it’s her?’
    â€˜I meet her.’
    â€˜Shit.’ she can hear his indrawn breath, can imagine his sudden realisation.
    â€˜Listen Suse, don’t you think it might be best if we got an independent solicitor? I’ve got nothing against this bloke, but he’s not ours. I know that Derek knows someone good, and I’ve a few clients who’d be happy to take it on. Maybe we could set up a meeting between the solicitor and this Carly woman and me. Keep you right out of it.’
    â€˜Ed,’ Susan’s voice is firm, her back straight. ‘I’m meeting her. Alone. She’s my sister.’
    Her sister.
Ed
    Ed watches the five o’clock news with his parents. There’s an old clip of Ronald Reagan, standing behind a podium somewhere, answering questions easily, smiling his affable smile. ‘Thank Christ he’s gone,’ Ed comments at the end of the report. ‘Jesus. Just imagine – the fate of the free world was in that halfwit’s hands. A bloody movie star. Says something about America, doesn’t it?’
    â€˜Says what, exactly, son?’ His father doesn’t take his eyes from the screen, doesn’t wait for an answer. ‘All that education, and you’ve still got no bloody idea.’ Ed opens his mouth, but closes it again. His father’s a good man, and an intelligent man, but not terribly sophisticated when it comes to politics. He’s not exactly right wing, but he’s certainly no leftie. There’s no point in arguing. Susan looks up from the card game she’s playing with Stella and Mitchell and catches his eye, smiles sympathetically.
    His mother gets to her feet. ‘Well,’ she says with a little sigh, ‘I’d best start serving out. The meal won’t put itself on the table, will it?’ There’s no answer to this, they all knowbetter. ‘I’ll be needing you shortly, Ed,’ his mother murmurs as she makes her way to the kitchen, ‘for the carving.’
    Ed always enjoys this fortnightly meal with his mother and father. He feels guilty that he doesn’t have more time to spend with his parents, despite living nearby. He does speak to them on the phone during the week, and occasionally calls in for Saturday brunch after his morning surf with Derek, but worries that this isn’t really enough, that they would like to see more of him and the kids, that the fortnightly visit smacks of tokenism, of a duty discharged. His parents never complain – of course – and they seem to be keeping