have workhouses anymore, love. You know that, right?”
“Be quiet, you horrible man.”
His head appeared over the top of the fridge, and he winked. Ruth responded with the sort of flushed and bamboozled smile no woman should ever have to see on the face of her stoic little sister. It was damned unnatural. And Hannah was definitely jealous.
Ruth took a sip of tea and tried again. “What I mean is, you don’t need the money.”
Evan’s head reappeared over the door of the fridge. He frowned over at Hannah and asked, “You don’t?”
“I do,” Hannah said firmly.
“She doesn’t,” Ruth argued, just as firmly. “She has a trust fund.”
Evan gaped. “You do?”
“We both have trust funds.” Hannah corrected with a glare. “And I don’t want to use mine, thank you very much.”
“I don’t see why not,” Ruth said. Sometimes, Hannah didn’t understand her sister. Ruth knew very well what their so-called ‘trust funds’ actually were: hush money. You know, take this cash and don’t tell my wife that you exist money. Now you have no reason to bother me with your incriminating presence money. From their father, of all people. Their shitty fucking father.
Hannah had grown up in the shadow of shame. She hated it, even more than she hated disappointment. Which is why she meant every single word when she said, “I’m not touching that man’s filthy fucking money.”
Ruth rolled her eyes. “Do be sensible, Hannah. All money is filthy.”
“Is this something to do with your dad?” Evan asked.
Hannah shot him a glare.
He slowly disappeared back into the fridge.
“Oh, Hannah,” Ruth said, “please don’t be difficult. Just… pretend today was a cosmic sign instead of the inevitable result of your goody-two-shoes repression.” Ignoring Hannah’s gasp of outrage, she went on: “Take this as an opportunity to find a new career. A long-term career that doesn’t make you want to commit murder on a daily basis. Maybe we should Google ‘jobs that involve bossing people around’.”
“Now you’re just trying to piss me off.”
“I certainly am not. Oh, I know! You should do something creative. It will be good for your general mood, I think. You have an excess of self.”
Of course, Ruth would bang on about creativity. She made a living—more than a living—through, of all things, her space opera webcomic. Which surprised no-one who actually knew her, but still.
Silence fell quite abruptly, because Ruth had nothing else to say and didn’t believe in unnecessary words. Hannah wanted to speak, but she was too busy over-analysing everything her sister had just said, and also the past thirty years of her life. You know, the usual.
It was Evan who eventually restarted the conversation. “Or,” he said, “if you don’t want to choose a new career all at once… you could work for Zach’s brother.”
Hannah looked up so fast, it was a miracle her head didn’t snap off of her neck. “I beg your pardon?”
“You know. Nate.” Evan produced a mountain of parsnips from the fridge. “Are you staying for dinner?”
Usually, Hannah would politely decline—she did hate to be a bother—but she’d had a traumatic day and required carbohydrates. “Yes. What was that about Zach’s brother?”
She was pleased with how the question came out. Not too sharp, not too desperate, not too astonished at the fact that Evan had casually brought up Nate Davis not two hours after she’d literally bumped into Nate Davis.
Or rather, bumped into his adorable children.
“Zach said they’ve been interviewing nannies or au pairs or something… what’s it called when you live at someone’s house and watch their kids and clean their shit?”
“Drudgery,” Ruth muttered.
“Marriage,” Hannah suggested.
“Hey, now,” Evan said with determined cheer. “Marriage isn’t all bad!” He gave Hannah a significant look from behind Ruth’s back. If she had to guess, she would say that the look meant Please don’t turn your sister off marriage any more than she already is, because I’m really hoping to put a ring on that.
Hannah cleared her throat. “I mean… um… a live-in nanny. That’s what you’re talking about. I think.”
“Right.” Evan gave her a grateful smile. “Well, Shirley’s appointments are pretty random…” His cheerful demeanour faded a little when he mentioned Shirley Davis. Her recent cancer diagnosis was the reason Nate had moved back home after all these years. And since the family was small—just Shirley, Zach, and Nate, plus Nate’s kids—Hannah didn’t doubt that they’d need help.
“Things are kind of complicated,” Evan went on, “so they want someone who’s accessible all the time. In case of… emergencies. Apparently, the interviews haven’t been