cried when I told her what happened.”
“Yeah, I got that. By the way, her cupcakes are delicious. Does she work at the bakery?”
“No.” His expression clouded over.
Aha!
I sensed a story.
Letting Roane take a few more bites of his sandwich, I pounced. “What does a cupcake master do if she’s not working for the local bakery and why is she so shy? And why is her accent different from yours?”
He rolled his eyes. “What’s with the twenty questions?”
“Caroline is intriguing. She dresses like my great-grandmother, is of indeterminate age, impossibly adorable, and is a shit-hot baker. I want to know more.”
Instead of laughing at my nosiness, Roane’s gaze darkened when he turned to me. “Caro lives with her aunt on her mum’s side, so Helena’s nothing to do with the Robsons. She’s an uppity bitch from money who got custody of Caro when her parents died in the Boxing Day tsunami in 2004. Caro was only seven years old.
“She was staying with us for Christmas.” His expression was sad. “Mum told me that Caro’s mum, Amelia, was never really meant for motherhood. She was too selfish. Amelia was a bit of a jet-setter and never wanted to take Caro with her, so she got left behind to stay with us or with Helena whenever her parents traveled. Her dad, my uncle Heath, was different from my father. Weaker, I suppose. Gave in to Caro’s mum’s demands all the time. Blinded by his love for her, Mum said. And poor Caro was the one that suffered for it.” He sighed heavily. “Though no one deserves to die how they died.”
I remembered that earthquake and tsunami in Indonesia. I was eighteen at the time, and it was world news for weeks because of its far-reaching effects. It killed almost a quarter of a million people.
“That’s awful.” For Caro’s parents, but also for Caro. To have had such neglectful parents, and then to lose them in such a way.
“Aye. Our nana Robson was still alive at the time, but she wasn’t well enough to take care of Caro. Mum and Dad wanted custody, but Amelia and Heath had made it clear in their will that guardianship was to be granted to Caro’s aunt Helena. She was Caro’s mum’s twin sister, you see.”
There was something hard in his tone, and putting that together with what I’d witnessed in Caro, I felt a little knot in my gut. “I’m guessing she’s not exactly a great guardian.”
Roane met my gaze, and I was surprised by the anger I saw there. “I don’t hate many people, Evie, if at all . . . but I hate that woman.”
I flinched. “Wow. That bad, huh?”
“She controls every aspect of Caro’s life.”
Calculating the dates quickly in my head, I replied, “But Caro’s twenty-two now.”
“Aye. But she’s lived with that woman for most of her life. I’ve tried my best. My mum has tried her best, but she’s got this grip on Caro.” The anger dimmed from his eyes, leaving only the melancholy. “I’m the closest thing she’s ever had to a best friend . . . She’s tried but her aunt always managed to chase off her friends. And she’s never had a boyfriend. Helena takes religion to the extreme, and she’s filled Caro’s head with all this toxic stuff about purity and what it means to be a ‘good girl.’ It’s all bullshit. It’s all meant to keep Caro living in that house, looking after the old cow into her dotage.”
Indignation for Caroline simmered inside me as I remembered how shy she’d been. I glanced at her beautiful cupcakes.
“That’s just the tip of the icing.” Roane gestured to them. “The lass is a born baker. Everything that comes out of her kitchen is heaven on a plate.”
“She should be working at the bakery then. Or opening her own!”
His eyes twinkled at my passionate exclaim. “Aye, but you try telling her that. I’ve offered to get her a place of her own, to break away from that woman and start living her life. But she won’t. She’s trapped by guilt.”
We fell into a companionable silence as I pondered Caroline’s situation. Maybe I could talk to Caroline. Roane was perhaps too close. Besides, he was a guy. It was presumptuous to assume a stranger could have more success than her closest relative, but maybe Caroline needed encouragement from an independent, mature woman who lived alone. I could show her how great it was. Plus, praise from a stranger about her baking was