Switching sides, Kathryn nodded along too.
‘Stop fussing,’ snapped Mum when I told her, again, that yellow was far too chipper.
For the rest of the day, Jack wore a shit-eating grin.
You always see the best in people. You root for the underdog. Which has blinded you to how smarmy and sly Jack is. When we were kids, other little girls wanted puppies, but you were obsessed with getting an elderly rescue from the shelter, something broken you could nurture. In Jack, you assumed you had a friendly Labrador （loyal and affectionate） when what you actually have is a rabid Rottweiler （territorial and vicious）。 I remember the way he marched you through my garden party, handed me that bottle of Dom Pérignon and made that nasty remark about my schooling. You were mortified, El, mortified. Yes, things between us that afternoon had been coated in a familiar frost, and maybe you thought I deserved it, but that little attack was led by him. He’s so … controlling, and he only gets away with it because he’s good-looking and full of false charm.
The conference went as well as it could, I suppose. Mum was in pieces afterwards, and Dad went for a walk to sober up from the drink no one realised he’d had until it was too late. He’s drunk more in the last three weeks than he has in the last three years. Mum performed her wifely duties, defending Dad even though I could see she was upset with him. ‘He just needed to take the edge off, love. He’s been stressed.’
I was surprised to see Christopher standing outside my front door after our TV appearance, holding a bottle of red. His hair was shiny, and he was wearing a gorgeous suede jacket. He seemed a little awkward as I got out of the car and went towards him. ‘I picked this up for you,’ he said, lifting the bottle. ‘You did really well today, taking control of the situation the way you did. I, uh, forgot how capable you are.’
‘Capable?’
He nodded. ‘Even at seventeen you knew what you wanted and how to get it. You never needed anyone’s help.’
‘Well, the house wasn’t exactly paid for by my wages.’
He looked over his shoulder at the house, as though seeing it for the first time. ‘No, I didn’t mean that. I meant you know how to handle yourself, how to take charge, organise people.’ He smiled. ‘Remember my eighteenth birthday when we hired those cabins in the Lake District?’
You’d have loved it, El. Waking every morning to the sound of laughter. The cool lake water on sun-warmed skin. Bikinis laid out on the jetty to dry. Dancing barefoot around the bonfire. Summer 2006 was the best summer of my life. It’s the summer I fell in love with Christopher Jones. ‘What about it?’
‘The fire.’
As soon as he mentioned it, I could smell the smoke. It was an accident; someone lit the log fire and didn’t keep an eye on it.
‘You launched out of bed and banged on doors. You woke people up and got them out. You directed people. Took control. Everyone else was running around, panicking, but you were …’ He shook his head. Then he met my eyes and I think maybe I wasn’t the only one who fell in love that summer. ‘You never need rescuing. You’re so capable, Ada. You haven’t changed.’
I didn’t know what to say, but my heart was beating hard. I never realised anyone saw me like that, in a way I’ve never even seen myself. ‘Thank you.’
I smiled, feeling good about myself for the first time in … well, for the first time in a while, and took the bottle from him. When our hands grazed, I got a hot, lustful flashback to being a teenager again, stopping off on the way up to the cabin and letting Christopher go down on me in the back of his brother’s Nissan Micra to ‘Dani California’ playing on the radio. God, we were so young.
‘Is this a personal visit?’ I asked, my voice low and husky. Why was my voice low and husky? I’m not a cheater. I’ve never cheated. I wouldn’t.
‘Personal.’ He glanced down at my ring finger. Cleared his throat. ‘Anyway, I just wanted to come by and drop this off. Seriously, Ada, well done today.’
Then he walked down the drive, climbed into his car and left.
It took a couple of seconds for me to turn and go into the house. I read a text from Ethan informing me he had a meeting Friday morning, so it made sense to stay in London until then. I took the bottle of wine my ex-boyfriend had given me, curled up on the sofa and drank the entire thing all by myself in my big, beautiful house, and tried not to think about you or how lonely I am.
Chapter Twenty-Five
20 Days Missing