The Flood

Daniela took the drinks to the table and sat opposite her sister. Stephanie had switched her gaze so she stared out at the flooded streets. She could’ve been thinking about anything. Beneath her chin was a crescent-shaped scar, where she’d been hit with a golf club, years ago.

Daniela sipped her drink then pulled off her boots and turned them upside down in the vain hope they’d dry out. She considered taking her socks off but thought that might be impolite. She circled her weak left ankle, which always ached when it was damp.

‘This place was better before the smoking ban,’ Daniela said. She sniffed. ‘All you smell now is cheap bleach and old alcohol.’

‘That was ten years ago,’ Stephanie said. ‘You weren’t old enough to be in here then.’

‘When did that ever stop us?’

At last Stephanie looked at her. ‘Get to the point,’ she said. ‘I’m supposed to be working.’

‘We’re all supposed to be somewhere. If I had any choice I wouldn’t be here. Not right now, anyways.’

‘Why are you here?’

Daniela hesitated. ‘Well now. What explanation would you like? I can—’

‘The truth would be a nice change.’

‘That goes without saying. But what variant of truth? I can give you a tear-jerking breakdown, or a bald statement of facts, or—’

‘You need money.’

Daniela winced. ‘Okay, we’re going for stark, unvarnished truth.’

‘I’m not giving you money, Dani.’

It’d been years since anyone called her Dani. Heat flushed her face. ‘It’s not as bad as you assume,’ she said carefully. ‘I don’t want your money.’

‘So, why’re you wasting my time?’

‘I want my money, Steph.’ Daniela sipped her drink. ‘The money Dad left me. That shouldn’t be problem, right?’

Stephanie eyed the cup of coffee on the table. Her need for a warm drink was apparently less urgent than her wish to stay angry with her younger sister, and she pushed the cup away.

‘You can’t have it,’ Stephanie said.

‘I understand there’ll be procedures. Paperwork. It’ll take time. What I’m hoping is—’

‘You can’t have it. There’s no money, Dani.’

Daniela’s smile slipped. ‘What d’you mean?’

‘Dad left you a share of the house.’ Stephanie clasped her hands on the table again. A police officer’s pose; demonstrating calm, concern, patience. ‘Once it’s been sold, you’ll get some of the money.’

‘It’s not sold yet? Steph, it was two years ago.’

‘Three. There didn’t seem any hurry to sell.’

Daniela sat back. It was a disappointment, but not unexpected. If the house had been sold and the money released, someone would’ve told her. ‘So, what? It’s sitting empty?’

‘No.’

‘No? C’mon. If I have to drag every answer out of you—’

‘Auryn’s living there.’

Daniela’s eyes widened. ‘Auryn’s here?’

‘She was. She left a few days ago, before the floods got bad.’

‘God, I thought she’d got out long ago. Isn’t she a barrister in London?’

‘Solicitor.’

‘So, what happened? Why’d she come back?’

Stephanie paused. ‘Some kind of breakdown,’ she said. ‘I said she could come home, since no one was using the house, while she got her head together.’

Daniela’s fingers tightened around the glass. Despite everything, she still felt protective of Auryn, the baby of the family, who’d always been quiet and withdrawn, especially compared to the rest of them. Stephanie and Franklyn had looked out for Auryn in their own way, but it’d been Daniela who was closest to her. For a time, anyway.

‘Glad the old house is still in the family,’ Daniela said, with what she hoped was a sincere smile. ‘Lots of memories in that place. I’m surprised you’re not living there as well.’

‘Why would I go back?’

‘Same reason you never left Stonecrop. It’s comfortable and reassuring. Are you still living next to the police station in Hackett or have you found somewhere a bit more … separate from your work?’

Stephanie gave her an unfriendly look. ‘Listen, until the house gets sold there’s no money for you. So, you can take your sob story elsewhere.’

‘That’s harsh.’ Daniela adopted a thoughtful look. ‘But there’s other money, right? Dad’s investments. His savings. You got the pay-out from the insurance company—’

‘That’s nothing to do with you.’

Daniela leaned forwards. ‘I’m asking for a favour, Steph. I know what you’re like – you’ve got that money stashed in an account somewhere, nice and safe. I need—’

‘You need a slap. A favour?’ Stephanie laughed without humour. ‘The best favour you could’ve done would be staying gone. What do you need money for anyway? Drugs? Loan sharks? The old ladies at Payday-Cash-4-U coming to break your legs?’

‘I’m not asking for anything that isn’t mine.’

‘Technically you are.’

‘It’d just be a loan, all right?’ Daniela resisted the urge to shout. ‘A small amount to tide me over. Once the sale of the house goes through, I’ll see you right.’

Stephanie sat back and folded her arms. ‘How much?’ she asked.

Daniela moistened her lips. ‘Well, I’m due eighty-five grand once the house is sold …’

‘The house isn’t worth that much anymore.’