“Thanks, Max,” I managed to get out around my closed-over throat. I felt a soft hand on mine then and realised that Mia had come around the desk to stand next to my chair.
“Are you okay?” she said softly. The soft but firm pressure of her hand on mine worked to anchor me somewhat, and the room slowly expanded back from that oppressing closed-in feeling.
“Honestly, darling. I’m fine,” I tried to inject my voice with as much confidence as I could muster. I needed to woman up a bit here. Mia had come through real trauma, while I was letting my hurt feelings spiral me into a series of panic attacks and the edges of depression. I sat up and turned my hand to squeeze hers back, forcing what I hoped was a more convincing smile. From the concerned expression on her face, I didn’t quite pull it off.
My phone started ringing then and I felt a fresh wave of adrenaline flood my system when I saw Mr Crawley’s contact info flash up on the screen. I hadn’t spoken to the Markham family lawyer for a good few years now.
“Sorry, guys,” I muttered. “I’d better take this.”
“Okay, hun,” Mia said, giving my arm a squeeze and then moving out of the office, dragging Max behind her. I answered the call just as she shut the door.
“Mr Crawley?”
“Ms Markham,” he said in his stiff formal tone that I was well used to. “So sorry to disturb. I tried Lord Markham, but he wasn’t answering his phone.”
“I’m sorry, Mr Crawley, but if you’re looking for my father then I–”
“Your father? I… er–”
In all the time I’d known Mr Crawley I don’t think I’d ever heard the man lost for words.
“Yes, my father, Lord Markham,” I said into the ensuing silence. “The man I’ve not spoken to for over ten years. I’m afraid that I can’t–”
“I wasn’t talking about your father, Verity,” Mr Crawley interrupted. My eyebrows went up in surprise at this unprecedented use of my first name. “I was talking about thecurrentLord Markham, your brother, Heath.”
“But–”
“I’m afraid your father died last week. Please let me offer my sincere condolences. I’m phoning about the funeral arrangements and the will. I didn’t realise that you hadn’t been informed.”
“Who exactly would have told me?” I forced out through my now dry throat.
“I thought maybe your mother or–”
I let out a sharp laugh as one of my hands went up to rub my temple. I could feel a bitch of a migraine forming behind my eyes. “My mother wouldn’t spit on me if I was on fire, Mr Crawley, as you are well aware. Her communication is limited to pissed-up torrents of verbal abuse and threats via voicemail, which I delete.”
Mr Crawley cleared his throat, and I closed my eyes slowly. “Well, I’m sorry that you weren’t informed sooner of your father’s passing. Maybe I should speak to Lord Markham? It’s just he isn’t answering his phone.”
My eyes shot open. “Don’tring my brother again,” I snapped.
“Well, it’s just that arrangements have to be made and–”
“I’ll deal with the arrangements. Leave Heath to me.”
“Right, well I’ll be in contact with the specifics, funeral directors and such.”
I blew out a long breath. “Right, yes fine. Thank you, Mr Crawley.”
There was another long pause. For a minute I thought he might have been cut off.
“Mr Crawley?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, a slight rasp to his voice and I frowned.
“Mr Crawley, that’s kind but honestly I’m not that sad about losing a man that I haven’t spoken to in over–”
“No,” he said. “You mistake me, young lady. I’m not sorry about your father. I’m sorry for my inaction.”
“Your inaction?”
