CHAPTER ONE

Skye Turner

GOOD FRIDAY

(edited extract)

At the end of the first course, Duncan cleared his throat. ‘I’d also like to make a toast tonight,’ he began, and I found myself holding my breath. ‘As Jamie said, family meant everything to Dad, and so I’d like to take this occasion to officially welcome my son Cody to his first Turner family dinner.’ He patted Cody’s arm. ‘To new beginnings.’

Everyone joined the toast, bar Hugo, who took a deep swig of wine and leaned across the table towards Cody. His sneer announced something unpleasant would follow. 

‘Ah yes, Cody. My prodigal nephew.’ Hugo wiped his mouth with the back of his hand then stared straight at Duncan. ‘So, come on, tell us.’ 

‘Tell you what?’ Duncan asked.

‘How long the two of you have been scheming about all this.’ He feathered his hands at Duncan and Cody, as if he were a feudal lord addressing a couple of serfs. Cody shrugged. ‘Sorry?’

Hugo’s face contorted into a grotesque smile – the same awful smile he gave to household staff before eviscerating them for poor service. ‘Well, Cody,’ he said, as if he’d just bitten into something sour. ‘How convenient that you’ve crawled out from fuck-knows-where straight after Dad’s funeral. I can only assume you’re trying to claim some inheritance?’

A fog of silence rolled in. Cody shifted in his seat. A vein was twitching at Duncan’s temple. I kicked him under the table – a warning not to react. The air was flammable, and he couldn’t give Hugo an excuse to ignite it.

‘I’m not after any inheritance,’ Cody said.

‘Then why are you here?’

‘I just wanted to spend time with my father and to meet you all, since – well, we’re all family.’

Hugo laughed. ‘Family?’

Beside me, Tamara squirmed and studied the weave of her placemat. Duncan leaned forward, poised to intervene. 

‘Well then,’ Hugo continued, ‘I trust you’ll have no objection to sharing the results of your DNA test with my lawyer?’

He eased back in his chair, linking his arms behind his head.

‘Ignore him, Cody,’ said Duncan. ‘He’s just drunk, or high – likely both.’

‘Yes,’ said Jamie, shooting his youngest brother a warning look. ‘That’s enough, Hugo.’

‘Hit a nerve, did I, Dunc? And I’m curious, because you’ve been so coy about the one detail we most want to know.’ Hugo’s eyes were glassy, and beads of sweat glistened on his upper lip. He was such a creep. ‘I never did get to the bottom of it. Which whore is Cody’s mother?’

The air crackled, and there was a second of silence before Duncan rounded the table and lunged at Hugo. I cried out when he seized Hugo’s throat, upending a glass of burgundy which bled across the white linen cloth.

Nina sprang to her feet. ‘Please, everyone, calm down! Don’t spoil the evening.’

Duncan ignored her. Hugo sputtered; he was choking.

I screamed at Duncan and tried to pull him off Hugo, but he wasn’t letting go. He was never physically aggressive like that, and for a horrible moment I had a flashback to my first foster father – the crunch of cartilage, the smack of fist on flesh, the metallic taste of blood.

By the time Jamie wrestled Duncan to the ground, a ghoulish purple tinge had crept across Hugo’s face. There was a stunned silence as Jamie dragged Hugo out to the hallway.

Duncan brushed himself off and turned to Cody. ‘You okay?’ he asked.

Cody looked at his father, then slowly took in the rest of us. Tamara was crying into her napkin. Nina was staring straight ahead, continuing to eat her meal, as if pretending everything was fine would see order magically restored.

‘This is fucked up.’ Cody rose, almost toppling his chair. 

‘I’m so sorry,’ I said to him. ‘Hugo’s an idiot.’ I was desperate to salvage his impression of the family – or his impression of me and Duncan, at least – for Tilly’s sake.

‘I’ll make sure he apologises to you,’ Duncan added.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Cody, ‘but I can’t stay here after that. He turned to Nina. ‘Thanks for dinner. And Skye, give Tilly a hug from me.’ 

Skye, Tamara and I cleared away the half-eaten dinner in silence, while Duncan and his brothers brokered a fragile peace in low, muffled voices in the next room. I found Tilly curled up like a comma beside Arabella on the sofa in the media room. Duncan scooped her into his arms, and together we dashed back to the guest house through the hissing rain.

‘Mumma, my tummy’s sore,’ Tilly said, all bleary-eyed, when I peeled off her wet clothes and slipped her Moana nightie over her head. 

‘Sweetie, it’s probably that sugary drink.’ I poured her a big glass of water. ‘Have this, and then we’ll brush your teeth and you’ll feel much better.’

She drank obediently, then slumped against me while I buzzed the toothbrush around her mouth.

The rain was thundering onto the roof and rattling the bedroom windows when I put her to bed. She was asleep before I’d even snuffed out the lamp.