Page 88 of The Mother-in-Law

I blink at him. ‘What?’

‘A deal breaker. You said that. If I ever asked Mum for money. I couldn’t lose you on top of everything else.’

I sigh. ‘Jesus, Ollie. You’re not going to lose me.’ I close my eyes.

‘The weirdest thing was that she agreed. I never expected her to.’

‘Then why did you ask?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe I . . . just wanted to talk to my mum. You probably won’t believe this, but she could be . . . very wise.’

I chuckle. ‘Actually, I do believe that.’

The landline stops ringing and for a moment we are surrounded by pure silence. But it lasts only a second before Ollie’s mobile starts up. I open my eyes. I want to throw it against the wall.

‘She was different,’ Ollie says, frowning as he recalls it. ‘She didn’t tell me to make my own way, or to figure it out myself. She told me she had my back. She said we’d pay off Eamon and go into business together.’

‘She wanted to go into business with you?’

‘She had a really interesting idea actually. A recruitment agency for highly skilled refugees. Engineers, doctors, IT professionals. A full service agency that would help to get candidates’ qualifications recognised in Australia and give them all the tools they need to transition into good jobs, across all fields. It was a really good idea. She thought you might want to be involved too.’

‘She did?’

‘Yes. A family business, she said.’ Ollie’s chin puckers. ‘But then she killed herself. Why would she say all of that . . . and then kill herself less than an hour later?’

Obviously I have no idea. When Diana told me she’d changed her mind about killing herself, I believed her. Why would she have said that if it wasn’t true? And even if she did change her mind back again, it didn’t explain the letter in the drawer, or the thread in her hands. It didn’t explain the missing pillow.

‘There’s only one explanation I can think of,’ I say to Ollie. ‘Someone must have got there after you left.’

59

DIANA

The past . . .

After Ollie leaves, I go to Tom’s study and pull out my letter. I look down at it.

I could have written more, but in the end, there’s really only two pieces of wisdom worth leaving behind. I worked hard for everything I ever cared about. And nothing I ever cared about cost a single cent.

Mum

I’ve never been a woman of many words. I could have crafted a letter to my children explaining why I’d chosen to end my life, or about how much I loved them, but that’s not my style. Besides, how would that help them? Sentiment has a way of diluting truth, and if I was going to leave a last few words of wisdom behind for my children, I wanted them to be clear.

Now, of course, I won’t be needing this letter. At first I think about burning it. Then I wonder if I should keep it as a reminder of how I have felt this past year. Perhaps it’s a good thing, to remember. I tuck the letter into the office drawer and head down the stairs and am just walking past the front room when Nettie lets herself in.

‘Hi, Mum,’ she says. ‘Can we talk?’

Nettie walks into the small front room and sits on the little couch. I follow her, sit beside her. She picks up one of the cushions and begins fiddling with the gold tassels. ‘I’m here about the money, obviously,’ she says, not wasting any time on small talk. ‘For the surrogacy. I’ve been talking to the agency, and I’m going to need to pay the deposit soon. I’m sorry to pressure you, but this is my . . .’

‘. . . last chance.’

‘Yes.’

My mind drifts to Patrick. His flashing eyes.She’s on a mission for a baby. She’s obsessed by it.

It’s like she’s possessed.

‘And Patrick is . . . on board? About the surrogacy?’