Chapter 6: The Conversation They Didn't Expect
Two days later, my mother called for the seventh time.
I let the first six go to voicemail.
The messages ranged from careful — *Juliet, please, we need to talk* — to something closer to pressure — *You're being dramatic about this.
No one meant to hurt you.
Call me back.*
The seventh call I answered.
"Finally," she said.
"I've been busy," I said.
"We need to sit down.
In person.
As a family." Her voice had settled into its most reasonable register — the one she used when she had already decided what the outcome of the conversation would be.
"I know this has been a shock.
But there are things you don't fully understand yet."
"I understand quite a lot, actually," I said.
A brief pause.
"What does that mean?"
"It means I've spoken to a solicitor.
And I've read the letter you wrote to Douglas in January."
The pause this time was longer.
"Where did you get that?" she said.
The reasonable register was gone.
"That isn't really the question you should be asking," I said.
"The question you should be asking is what I've decided to do with it."
"Juliet." Her voice shifted into something harder and more urgent.
"Whatever Rosalind told you, she has a personal grievance against that family.
She was let go under difficult circumstances.
She is not a reliable—"
"She gave me copies," I said.
"The originals are held separately.
My solicitor has reviewed everything."
Silence.
"I want to meet," I said.
"Not as a family.
I want to meet with you and Douglas Ashford.
Graham may attend if he chooses.
Sienna may attend if she chooses.
My solicitor will be present.
You may bring your own."
"You're not serious."
"The meeting is at Clare Ashford's office.
Thursday at two o'clock.
If you choose not to come, that is also a choice, and my solicitor will proceed accordingly." I kept my voice level.
"I'd suggest you come, Mom."
Another silence.
Then, very quietly, in a register I had almost never heard from her: "How much do you want?"
I sat with that for a moment.
"I want you to say out loud what you did," I said.
"That's all I want from you, specifically.
Everything else is between my solicitor and Douglas's."
She hung up.
I set the phone down and looked at the wall for a minute.
Then it buzzed.
A text from Graham.
*Jules.
We should talk before Thursday.
Just the two of us.
Please.
You don't know everything.*
I typed back: *Then bring it Thursday.*
His reply: *There are things about my father you don't understand.
He's not a man you want as an enemy.
I'm trying to protect you.*
I stared at that for a long moment.
*I'm trying to protect you.*
After fourteen months of a false engagement.
After a proposal designed to keep me occupied while they restructured his inheritance around my sister.
After a January letter in my mother's handwriting.
I protect you.
I typed one word back: *Thursday.*
He didn't reply again.
But at eleven that night, Rosalind sent me a message.
*Douglas Ashford called me this evening.
He wanted to know what I gave you.
I told him I didn't know what he was talking about.
He said — and I'm quoting — "If she walks into that meeting, she'll walk out with less than she started with."*
I read it twice.
I forwarded it directly to Clare.
May you like
Her reply came four minutes later: *Perfect.
See you Thursday.*
