Lustro

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

After reading the first few chapters to Mr Tims, I managed to spend some time reading Alice in Wonderland to Mrs Garly. Mrs Garly was an eighty year old I was fond of- who persisted in offering me a humbug every few seconds. I had a large enough time slot to fleetingly visit most awake, long term patients, either talking to them or reading to them. I felt better afterwards for doing so, like it was my own personal form of therapy.

The walk home was short and my umbrella hung limp at my side after I retrieved it from Rafe whom had swapped shifts with Kelly. The storm clouds had drifted away though a cocktail of deep indigo danced gracefully in the vast, empty space as night fell.

Dinner that evening consisted of spaghetti and salad, one of our families' favourite meals. It was devoured speedily, with lots of slurping of pasta and splattering of red sauce everywhere. When everyone was finished, to my utter confusion, mum and dad sent Noah off to bed early. Then, to further my bewilderment, Mum and Dad didn't start getting ready for work, the usual hubbub of 'Where's my clipboard?' and 'Have you seen my uniform anywhere?' didn't ensue. I was observant enough to notice something was definitely up.

"Why aren't you going to work?" I questioned the both of them with a raised eyebrow.

"We got a call from a solicitor last week." Mum said. My eyebrows scrunched together.

"Why?" Was my next question.

"We don't know." Mum shrugged, looking as clueless as I.

"But we are having a meeting with the solicitor tonight, here, so we took the night off of work." Was Dad's input into the conversation.

"So why am I involved?" I asked inquisitively.

"The solicitor asked for all members of the family, apparently it was quite 'urgent', but we sent Noah to bed because he would cause more trouble than good." Dad explained.

"If it concerns him we will explain to him later." Mum butted in.

"Okay, what time is the solicitor coming at then?" I asked as the information sunk in, though I was a little miffed they hadn't told me at an earlier date.

"Now." Mum said just as the doorbell rang.

I waited in the kitchen twiddling my thumbs as mum greeted the solicitor at the door, the sound of the solicitor's crisp articulate voice merging with mum's own soft one.

The solicitor strode into the room, she was professionally dressed with kitten heels, a black pencil skirt down to her knees-complete with tights and a white blouse peeking out from behind her fitted black blazer. I'd say she were in her early thirties as a rough estimate. Her thick, chestnut hair was tied back in a chignon type bun and adorned with a single bejewelled hairpiece. Her fingernails were painted a pale pink matching her neatly applied lipstick. I stood up from my seat to greet her, putting my hand out politely (and awkwardly) in front of me for her to shake.

"Mrs Hilt." She introduced with a smile.

"Imara." I replied with a one of my own. Mrs Hilt stared a little, I think at my hair that I had earlier let down and put into a plait. Instinctively I tucked a loose strand behind my ear, I hated how eye-catching and bold it was.

Dad quickly introduced himself to Mrs Hilt with a quick handshake, then sat himself down on one of the many chairs surrounding our kitchen table.

Mum ushered Mrs Hilt into a chair then took one for herself after shutting the kitchen door, so that we were all gathered around the table and ready for discussion.

"So, what is the matter?" Dad asked bluntly.

"Well, a particular document came to our attention recently as it had been filed wrong and the issue of it has resurfaced." Mrs hilt explained, as she talked she made eye contact in turn with all three of us.