Australian Affairs: Rescued. Meredith Webber
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Sophia would be her mother-in-law. For a short time anyway.
She raced to her bedroom to check her appearance. After brushing her already neat hair she went slowly back, taking long lung-filling breaths. Waited, slowly counted to nine after the bell rang before opening the door.
Sophia James was the epitome of a stylish, sixtyish woman with all the resources to fight any sign of ageing. From her coiffured dark hair to the handmade high-heeled shoes colours matched, everything fitted perfectly. There was nothing soft about her at all. Not a trace of warmth in her red lips or in her flat brown eyes.
Alina felt an irrational zing of satisfaction that both this woman’s children had expressive blue eyes, clearly inherited from another family member.
‘Please come in,’ she said, standing aside.
Sophia walked in with an air of entitlement, scanning the area as if it were her territory. Scanning Alina as if she were an applicant for a lowly household position.
‘You are not the cleaner. Why isn’t Ethan here with you?’
Spoken as if she couldn’t be trusted to be alone in his home. She felt a twinge of insecurity, then pride came to her rescue. She lifted her chin, squared her shoulders. She’s Ethan’s mother. Treat her with respect. She’s the baby’s grandmother. That last thought eased her resentment. This lady would not take kindly to any of the traditional titles given to a grandmother.
‘I’m Alina Fletcher. Would you like coffee or tea? Ethan’s at work.’ She held back on saying, But I’ll bet you know that.
‘Mild coffee, thank you. White. No sugar.’ As if she were ordering from a waitress in a café.
Alina watched as Sophia stopped before entering the lounge, giving the area a thorough scrutiny before selecting one of the armchairs. Giving the impression that she had never seen the decor before. After popping a pod into the machine Alina joined her, staying on her feet to attend to the drinks.
‘You’re the girl with Ethan in the photograph a friend texted to me. You were kissing in the street, and now you’re acting like this is your home. Are you living with him?’ Blunt and insulting.
She made a point of staring at Alina’s bare left hand, made no attempt to hide her displeasure. Alina’s attitude swung again. How dared this woman question and insult her?
‘I don’t discuss my private business with strangers.’
Sophia’s lips thinned, almost disappeared. Her back stiffened. ‘I’m his mother. I have a right to know.’
‘Then perhaps you should ask him. Next time we’re in contact I’ll ask him to get in touch.’
It was a definite dismissal. Forget coffee. Alina wanted her gone.
The scathing look Sophia gave her was defused by the dull shade of red flooding her face. She rose stiffly to her feet.
‘Be warned, Ms Fletcher. You don’t fit. You may have him fooled for a short time, but his contemporaries will see through you as easily as I do.’
Her movement to the door was as near to a stomp as Alina had ever seen anyone do in heels. She followed, far enough behind so that Sophia had to open the door herself.
She turned for a parting shot. ‘Even suitable girls don’t seem to last long with Ethan. Your novelty will quickly pall for a man of my son’s impeccable taste.’
She swept out, leaving the door open.
Alina closed it, shaking with disbelief. She uncurled her clasped fingers to enable them to rub the back of her neck, tilted her head to the ceiling. What had she done? Apart from insulting his mother, and practically throwing her out of his home, she’d given the impression she had authority here.
Ethan hadn’t wanted his parents to know about her yet. A public kiss hardly equated domestic cohabitation. Should she have lied?
Her head reeled.
Should she wait ’til he came home to tell him, when she’d be able to see his reaction? What if Sophia rang him first with a distorted version of events?
Taking bites of some dark rich chocolate for courage, she debated the pros and cons...
‘She what?’ The outrage in Ethan’s voice seared down the phone line. She’d got no further than telling him his mother had visited before he’d exploded.
‘I’m sorry, Ethan. I didn’t know whether to let her in. I—’
‘She’s never been there before—never been invited. What did she want?’ Barked out, agitating her even more.
‘Someone sent her a photo of us kissing. I didn’t know what to tell her.’
She’d screwed up. No, he’d put her in that position by keeping her a secret. It was his family who had the issues.
‘You should contact her. I...I... I’ll see you tonight.’
She hung up.
* * *
‘Alina?’
She’d gone. Ethan realised his knuckles were white from his grip on the mobile phone. His free fist ground onto his desk. She’d sounded distressed. What the hell had his mother said to her?
He’d never been so angry. Or so worried when Alina didn’t answer his call back. He selected his mother’s number.
‘Ethan, we haven’t heard from you for a while.’
Not since they’d criticised the wording for the gravestone. Lucky for her there was half a city between them else he’d be tempted to throttle her.
‘So you thought you’d pop into my home when you knew I wasn’t there?’
She spluttered. He gave her no chance to refute his claim.
‘Don’t bother denying it. My receptionist logged the same female voice yesterday, saying she might call in. Your voice is quite distinctive.’
It wasn’t said as a compliment. Anyone who truly knew him would have been wary of his low, controlled tone.
‘I was worried. I’d received a photograph of you with that girl I met in your apartment.’
He almost lost it at her throwaway reference to Alina. Gritted his teeth, needing to know how his mother had discovered she was there. He waited for a long, tense moment.
‘Okay, I described her to an acquaintance who lives a few floors below you. She said she’d seen her—sometimes alone, sometimes with you. I’m only looking out for your welfare, Ethan. There’s something not quite right about her. She just about ordered me out.’
‘After, I’m guessing, you began to interrogate her. Listen carefully, Mother. You’ll have no more contact with me at all if you bother Alina again. Understand?’
‘Ethan, you—’
‘Goodbye, Mother.’
He dragged his fingers through his hair. Alina, sweetheart, you didn’t deserve that. I made a mistake—should have known she’d start digging at the slightest rumour I might be dating.
He tried the apartment. No answer. Tried Alina’s number twice more. It went to voicemail each time.
* * *
There was no sound in the apartment, no sign of Alina. Her mobile lay on the kitchen island. She has to be here. Has to be.
Ethan strode to her bedroom. The breath he felt he’d been holding for ever whooshed out at the sight of her handbag by her dressing table. Her bathroom door was open. Not there. One place left to check.
The gym area was silent apart from the low hum of the water pumps. The lights were dimmed, giving him limited vision of the figure floating in the pool. The only movements were slight flicks of her feet, gently propelling her along towards him.