Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
“You’re alive. You’re healthy . . . sort of. And you have a job. So stop being a baby and feeling sorry for yourself.”
After her pep talk, she tried to meditate, but her brain wouldn’t shut up. Deciding she just needed a cup of tea and a biscuit, she headed down the stairs.
A noise from her uncle’s room made her stop in her tracks.
Was this what had been pushing at her? Why hadn’t she thought to check on her uncle?
Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door. “Uncle Willy?”
There was no reply. Shoot. Shoot.
What if he was hurt? Upset?
She knocked louder. “Uncle Willy? Can I come in?”
Still nothing. She pressed her ear to the door. But these stupid doors were thick and well-made.
Why did they have to be of such good quality? What was wrong with doors that were so flimsy you could make a hole in them with one good kick?
“I’m coming in, Uncle Willy!” she called out.
Please don’t be naked. Please don’t be naked.
Cracking open the door, she spotted him. Fully clothed.
There was a God.
But her relief immediately turned to worry as she watched him pace up and down the room. He looked agitated. His blond-gray hair was standing on end and he was muttering to himself.
Bollocks.
Not good.
A knot tightened in her stomach as she moved into the room. Anxiety had her wishing that she’d brought in some moral support.
She could really use Ziggy right now. She’d been trying to wean herself off needing him so much.
It wasn’t really working, though.
“Uncle Willy?” she called out.
He turned to her, his eyes wild. “Who are you? What are you doing in my house?”
Monkeyballs.
Why had she let him go to his old house today? What had she been thinking? Of course he was going to be upset.
“Uncle Willy, it’s me. It’s Maggie.”
“I don’t know a Maggie!”
“I’m your niece. Remember? I’m Heather’s daughter. Your sister?”
This was a risk. Sometimes, reminding him of who she was helped calm him down. He would come back into himself.
Other times, it would make things worse.
Turning, he grabbed a vase and threw it against the wall.
Seemed this time it was making things worse.
Good to know.
“I don’t have a niece! My sister doesn’t have children!” Uncle Willy roared.
Sadness filled her.
He’d always been so kind to her. A total gentleman. The only person in her life that had been a constant. Non-judgmental.
And now . . . this wasn’t her uncle.
And it made her want to weep. But she couldn’t. Because it was up to her to take care of him.
Right. How are you going to do that when you can’t take care of yourself?
Shut up, subconscious. Did your mother never tell you that if you can’t say anything nice not to say anything at all?
And now she was arguing with herself.
A sign of sanity, for sure, she thought sarcastically.
Rubbing at her head, Maggie took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
A sudden knock on the door made her jump and she turned toward it in shock.
Fuck. Why hadn’t she locked it? What if the person on the other side came in? They couldn’t see Uncle Willy like this.
“Yes?”
“I heard something smash,” Beck called out. “Is everything all right?”
“Lia, who is that?” Uncle Willy asked.
She glanced over to find her uncle standing just behind her. He was glaring down at her.
Okay. She could work with this. Being Lia was better than being someone he didn’t know. Right?
Maybe.
“Sorry, Beck. I accidentally knocked over a vase.” She hoped she sounded normal and not like she was moments away from shattering, just like the vase.
Please don’t let that be a hugely expensive vase.
Surely they wouldn’t put anything priceless in their guest accommodation?
She made a mental note to remove anything else breakable from both of their bedrooms.
A sigh of relief left her. She always felt better when she had a to-do list.
Organization was key.
There was a pause outside the door. As though Beck was deciding whether or not to believe her.
Rude. As if she’d lie.
You’re lying right now.
Ahh. Yeah. Okay. Now she understood his hesitation. She really shouldn’t be trusted.
“I’ll get something to clean it up with,” Beck told her.
Shoot.
Why did he have to be helpful? Why couldn’t he be more like Ian?
Crap. Had she really just wished that pleasant, quiet Beck was more like antagonistic, grouchy Ian?
She was losing it.
Uncle Willy reached out and grasped hold of her wrist. Hard. She winced and had to stifle a cry of pain. Tears filled her eyes, but she couldn’t let any sign of her pain escape in case Beck heard.
Why the heck wasn’t this place more soundproof?
And yes, she was aware of the irony since she had just been thinking the opposite before. But they were her thoughts.
“No!” she cried out.
Monkeyballs.
“I mean, I’ve already got something to clean it up. No need to bother yourself. Uh, you need to carry on bodyguarding. Righty-ho!”