Pieces of Lies by Angela Richardson Page B

voice came from the mooring. We both immediately stopped laughing and spun in the water to look at the figure staring at us. A woman in her late forties, dressed immaculately in a cream shift dress, stood with a look of bemusement on her face.
    “Nothing mother, Norah and I just decided to go for a swim.” Clint’s voice cracked as he said it.
    “Well come up to the house now will you. I’d like to meet this… Norah.” Clint looked at me nervously and started to swim back to the mooring as his mother turned and walked back up to the house. I followed behind him, sensing the tension of the situation already unfolding. Shaking the water off my body and slipping my red dress back on, it quickly became saturated by my wet underwear.
    Clint saw I was shivering and grabbed his tuxedo jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. “I should be able to find some dry clothes for you up at the house.”
    I felt nervous, the words of his mother still fresh in my head, “ I want to meet, this… Norah.”   The way she spoke my name was so distasteful. I was sure this was going to be an uncomfortable experience.
    There was a chef’s kitchen and an outside dining area that was located on the other side of the mansion, quite a distance from where the evening’s events were held. I wasn’t sure how early in the morning it was, but my eyes were beginning to get heavy from staying up the whole night. The courtyard where Mrs. Weston was sitting was surrounded by hedges and small flowers. Off to the left side of the courtyard, a large stone birdbath was spurting a small stream of water, creating the most soothing sound. It was picture perfect for outdoor dining.
    “There is a ladies room inside and I’ve already asked our servants to lay out some dry clothes for you while we dry your dress dear.” Clint didn’t say anything and helped me towards the kitchen and then to the door of the bathroom. “I’ll just be outside, please come join us when you are ready.” Clint seemed a little distant as he closed the door.
    Looking around at the intricately expensive features of the space, it only just occurred to me how rich Clint’s family really was. So much so, I gasped at the grandeur that was merely the bathroom. I then noticed a powder blue tea dress hanging on a towel hook beside the grand bath tub. Looking closely at the dress, I could see tiny pink flowers embroidered all over it. The material was silk and fit perfectly over my thin frame. There were large white towels folded on a small ornate table and I used one to towel dry my hair, which then hung down my back in soft damp waves. My cheeks were already rosy from the early morning swim. 
    I stared at my reflection in the huge Victorian bath mirror. With the softness of the dress and my long black hair slightly wet and flowing, I looked like I belonged in an English rose garden.
    When I walked out to the courtyard, both Clint and his mum turned to look at me. I was looking at Clint’s face, watching me take small steps towards them. His face went from blank to the most adorably sweet grin as our eyes connected. I found myself smiling stupidly back at him like a girl with a crush. Mrs. Weston turned and looked at Clint who was still staring at me like a gawky teenager. “Clint, darling, help Miss Ross with her seat. You look lovely in Delia’s dress my dear.” He got up immediately and pulled out a chair across from him and his mother.
    “Delia?” I questioned.
    “Yes, Clint’s older sister.”
    An older sister Delia and an older brother called Leo. I wonder why Clint was the pick to follow in his father’s footsteps.
    “How did you know my last name?” I asked as I sat down in the beautifully crafted wooden chair with plush cushioning.
    “Oh, Clint has mentioned you in passing conversation.” 
    I glanced over at Clint, completely taken back.
    He has mentioned me to his mother?
    “I’m Helene Weston,” she said, and turned and gestured to the food. “Would