No One Could Have Guessed the Weather by Anne-Marie Casey Page A

malevolent. Like in
The Birds
.”
    â€œRobins are territorial and aggressive. They mark out their living space and will attack trespassers.”
    Lucy’s vision settled, and she peered at her brother. She noticed the flecks of white in his stubble. “You look dreadful.”
    â€œMy mother died, and I’ve been on an aeroplane for twenty-six hours.”
    â€œDon’t start—”
    â€œThe springs on my old bed are completely useless. Should have known you’d grab the only decent mattress in the house.”
    He sat on the edge of her bed and swung his legs beneath him. Lucy knew he was controlling an urge to suck his thumb.
    â€œI wish Cordelia and the kids were here,” he said.
    Lucy, by contrast, did not wish Richard and the boys were there at all. She had always wanted to keep them as far away from all this as she possibly could. George stared out the window for a moment. Lucy followed his gaze, wondering if he was thinking the same thing as her, remembering the weekends they roamed the park behind the house together while Mother lay in bed.
    â€œThere’s something I want to run by you. Obviously, Mum has left the house to the two of us.”
    He paused. Lucy looked at him, curious.
    â€œI’ll get it valued before I leave, and then . . .” He hesitated. A brown moth fluttered against the glass, futilely crashing against it. Lucy reached for a magazine, rolled it into a baton, and raised her arm, but George opened the top window and tenderly guided the disorientated insect outside. As it flew away, he continued, carefully, as if he had been practicing. “Cordelia and I would like to buy your share. Whatever the estate agent says, we’ll give you. In fact, we can get a few valuations and then average them.”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œNo, I want you to talk it over with Richard—”
    â€œRichard won’t have a problem.”
    â€œIt’s just Cordelia knows a brother and sister who did this, and then ten years later when the house had tripled in value one of them came back for more money, and we couldn’t have that; it would be a once-off thing.”
    (
Gosh,
thought Lucy,
maybe it is true that there’s no such thing as the perfect family?
)
    â€œI said it’s okay.” Lucy suppressed her urge to pat him on the head and moved the conversation on. “What will you do with the house?”
    George looked at her, surprised.
    â€œWe’re going to come back and live here. We’ve been thinking about it for a while, and now . . . I love this house. I had happy times here. I can’t think of anywhere better to bring up my kids.”
    Lucy did not know what to say. It seemed unspeakably inappropriate to start listing reasons why they had had a terrible childhood. So instead she replied, “That’s cool.”
    â€œCordelia knew you’d be fine with it. She sees auras round people, and she’s says yours is yellow.”
    â€œIs yellow good?”
    George nodded. Lucy decided to peel the smiley-face sticker off the royal wedding commemorative plate. Cordelia could have it if she really wanted it.
    â€œGeorge. It’s only seven o’clock. You must be exhausted. Why don’t you lie down in here and I’ll bring you some breakfast? It’s going to be a horrid day.”
    â€œThank you, Lucy.”
    â€œAnd George . . . I’m sorry—”
    â€œFor what?”
    That I could not sacrifice myself to save you
,
she thought, but she said, “For everything. Everything that happened. Everything you went through that I didn’t.”
    Lucy pulled an old school sweatshirt she had found in the bottom of her wardrobe over her nightshirt and headed for the door.
    â€œDid I tell you Cordelia’s training to be a therapist?” said George.
    Lucy turned, unsure what she felt about this piece of news.
    â€œAnyway, the first thing they said to her