The Small Fortune of Dorothea Q Read Online Free

files. Mummy refused to sell it or give it away or chuck it out. She clings to everything, especially if it belonged to Daddy. It’s like she keeps him alive that way. She seems to think she’ll be going back home someday. I had to leave her that dream; the house is too big for Evelyn and she wants to move out and rent it out. If only we had the money to renovate it … Mummy said …’
    Perfectly on cue, a loud banging interrupted her. We all looked up.
    Gran stood in the open doorway, walking stick in hand. She banged it against the wooden floor one last time and then, assured that she had our undivided attention, said:
    ‘Where the telephone? I need to call the police about that suitcase. Somebody must be teef it and I need to report it.’
    I looked from Marion to Mum. ‘Teeth?’ I asked.
    ‘“Teef.” Thief,’ said Mum. ‘It’s a verb in Guyanese.’
----
    T hat evening Mum called together what she called a Family Council. She had something to tell us, she said. Once we were all seated around the dining table she launched into her spiel. This was a different Mum to the one I was accustomed to. She was authoritative, determined, and very, very serious.
    ‘I just wanted to say,’ she said, in this new, stern voice, ‘that I want us all to get along, especially you and me, Mummy.’
    She looked straight at Gran, who was doing her best to pretend she wasn’t listening, flipping through a TV magazine she’d picked up along the way.
    ‘Mummy! I’m talking to you!’
    Gran looked up then, closed the magazine with some reluctance, and scratched her head.
    ‘Is what?’
    ‘This is an experiment. It can only work under one condition. I’m sorry I snapped at you yesterday but that could happen more often if you don’t keep to the rules. Just one rule, really. This is a fresh start; a new beginning. I want a clean slate. The past is past: done with. Whatever happened then has no bearing on now. I want us all to try hard to live in the present, and just get along. Is that understood?’
    ‘Yeah, but…’
    ‘No buts, Mummy. I really want this to work. I really want you to be here. I really want us all to live in peace with each other. That can only happen if we don’t rake up the past. It’s swept up and thrown away. Gone. This is now.’
    Marion fidgeted in her chair.
    ‘That’s all very well, Rika, but Mummy…’
    ‘I said no buts, Marion. Please. That’s all I have to say, short and simple.’
    She pushed back her chair, stood up, and left the room. The three of us were left staring at each other. Then Marion shook her head as if in regret.
    ‘If that’s what she wants,’ she said. ‘Mummy, did you hear? You got to keep your big mouth shut!’
    Gran cackled. ‘Not possible!’ she said.

Chapter Two
Inky: The Noughties
    T he next morning Gran’s missing suitcase arrived, bright and early, just as Mum had predicted. It was immediately obvious what had caused the delay; it was a battered old thing, and it seemed both of the flimsy locks had broken, spilling out the contents. The airport staff had done what they could to fix matters; the case still gaped two inches open, but it was swaddled in several layers of cling-film and bound with security tape. Gran was both furious and ecstatic. Furious because, as she said, ‘Somebody coulda teef her tings’, and ecstatic because, well, there it was, safe and sound in the hallway, and Mum signing for it. Gran commanded the delivery guy to haul the case into her room. That done, she slammed the door and disappeared.
    After an hour she reappeared in the kitchen where I was finishing off the last of my breakfast pancakes.
    ‘Come, Inky. I gotta show you somet’ing.’
    No peace for the innocent; I gobbled down the last bit of pancake, shoved the plate into the dishwasher, and followed Gran back into her room.
    ‘Shut the door,’ she said, so I did. The open suitcase lay on the carpet, and all around it were various articles; big books of some sort;