Salt Sisters

to work.
Business had been good. At one time, it seemed that Mike’s company had been bringing in around ten thousand pounds each month. That was from a variety of streams, including the Amazon selling. He had received a few big payments from a German company, the year before last. But as I got to the most recent statements, the numbers told a different story. There was much less coming in, but the same amount going out monthly to Mike’s personal account – presumably, what he allowed for his salary. There were monthly payments to a credit card too. I scanned the numbers, searching for clues.
It looked like he had loaned money to other companies and had lost it when they had failed to take off. He had paid twenty-five thousand pounds for shares in a start-up that had gone bankrupt before it turned a profit. There were letters from investors too; creditors sending final payment notices and demands for overdue invoices. He had even taken out a small loan against the house, and although it seemed like he had managed to pay it back, I got the impression that Mike was only just keeping his head above water. I wondered how much Amy had known.
I took photos on my phone of some of Mike’s bank statements and the letters. I wasn’t sure what it all meant, but it didn’t look good, and this was clearly why he wanted the money. That felt wrong to me – Amy had wanted any life insurance to set up the kids for the future, not to pay back Mike’s bad business decisions. Hopefully Jake could help me understand all this better, and maybe I could use it to fight Mike’s challenge on the will, if he went ahead with it. I sent Jake a message:
I think Mike is in financial difficulty, and I want to learn more. Can I come to see you tomorrow?
He replied promptly: Yes, of course you can pop by. I’m free all morning.
I sent another message to Amy:
Were you worried about money? Or did Mike hide it from you?
The timer on my phone buzzed – I had about ten minutes before the kids got home. I quickly packed everything back up and put the key away in its hiding place, then went downstairs to make a start on dinner.
I absent-mindedly peeled the carrots, letting my mind wander. The strangest part of being on sabbatical from work was the lack of emails. The uncomfortable silence from the office was making me anxious, and I was annoyed at them for treating me like this – like I was weak. I was missing my friends, and my social life, too. After the initial waves of sympathy messages, the texts and phone calls had ebbed away. Adam had been in touch daily to check in on me, but I hadn’t heard from most of my friends since before the funeral. I sighed. Out of sight, out of mind. Besides, I was hardly the life and soul of the party these days. I had nothing to share except misery.
Still, it was giving me the space and the time to focus on my family, and on getting some answers. The thought that Amy’s death might not have been an accident was a terrifyingly deep and dark hole that I didn’t want to fall into, but my gut was telling me something wasn’t right. Mike’s finances and the way he had reacted to Amy’s will would give anyone cause for concern. I didn’t want to link the two, but I couldn’t shake the dark cloud of dread.
I poured another vodka. I longed for my sister in that moment – for all the moments we had missed, and all the moments we would never have.
What was troubling you? I texted her. What was so bad that you couldn’t tell me?
I thought about who might know more, and who I could trust. If Amy hadn’t been able to talk to me, I doubt she would have confided in Auntie Sue. Still, it was worth a try. Then there was Rachel – she had been a rock to me. She knew my sister better than anyone and could probably give me the clearest picture about what was going on in Amy’s life.
I was also curious about Richard Pringle. He and Amy seemed to have been good friends, and I wondered how well he had got on with Mike.
I was jolted out of my thoughts by the front door opening. The kids trooped in – Betsy’s face was tear-stained and Hannah looked weary, while Lucas stormed straight up the stairs without even saying hello.
Betsy gave me a long, garbled explanation about some boy who had said something mean, and they’d had what sounded like a pretty vicious argument. I did my best to follow the story, but I was trying to chop vegetables and follow the recipe book at the same time, and I kept missing bits. Hannah sat at the kitchen table with her head in her hands, and only offered me a grunt when I asked her how her day had been.
I was quite proud of the shepherd’s pie I made for dinner – not bad for a first attempt. It had taken way longer than I’d realised it would, and everyone was starving by the time we eventually sat down to eat. But Hannah just pushed it around her plate and Lucas couldn’t even pretend to enjoy it.
‘Is there anything else for tea? I don’t like this. It’s got lumps in it.’
The back of my neck was getting hot and itchy.
‘Me either,’ said Betsy. ‘I want sausages.’
I took a deep breath and was thinking about my next move when the front door opened.
‘Only me!’ Auntie Sue cried out from the hall as she took her boots off. ‘Just thought I’d see how everyone was doing after the first day back.’
She bustled into the kitchen, tossing her coat and scarf to one side and sliding up to Lucas. ‘Ooh,