I blinked around at the people surrounding me and gave my head a shake to clear it.
“S–sorry,” I said in a small voice, pulling my jumper sleeves down over my hands. The sting of the frostnip wasn’t as bad this week but it was enough to make me wince as I clenched my fingers together. I was hoping that I’d be able to start typing soon, but so far the pads of my fingers had been too sensitive to even consider it. Seeing as I couldn’t hold a pen either the situation was far from ideal. I was already a fair way off my deadline, I couldn’t afford any more delays.
“It’s okay,” Harry said in a soft voice. “Sorry Luce, I was probably droning on a bit. I can understand why you’d zone out.”
We were at the LSE building. I’d agreed to meet the teenagers from Harry’s project before I left London for good.Mike thought it would be a good opportunity to get me out of the flat, and Emily had driven us up from Little Buckingham so she could come to this meeting with me and then help me pack up. I was moving home.
Chatting with the teenagers had actually been really therapeutic. A few of them brought samples of their work, some of which were brilliant; others actually brought LP Mayweather books with them for me to sign. It was all very relaxed with Harry moderating, and Mikey, Verity and Emily sitting in. I was glad I’d done it but now I just wanted to leave.
I gave Harry an apologetic smile. “No, you’re not droning on, I just have a really poor concentration span since…” I trailed off and Emily reached down to give my arm a squeeze, knowing to avoid my sensitive hands.
“We were really sorry to hear what happened at Moretti Harding,” Verity said softly.
My eyes flashed to her and she bit her lip.
“I’m sorry, Luce,” she said. “News travels fast in our business.”
My smile wavered. “Oh, right.”
“Lucy really doesn’t want to talk about it yet,” Emily said after an awkward silence. “I hope you understand. It’s all a bit fresh.”
It was like primary school all over again. I was free to be the daydreamer, to drift through life with Emily ready by my side to shield me. Just like Mikey used to do; just likeheused to do.
Thinking about him made my chest ache and started that stupid prickling behind my eyes again. Why couldn’t I just forget about the silly sod? It had been nearly a week, and it still hit me in waves. I hated him, like real, real loathing. So why couldn’t I stop missing him with a deep ache that almost took my breath away? He’d let me down so badly. I’d totallymisjudged him. I thought we had something real. I thought he felt the same.
But, when I looked back on it, I realised that was never the case. It was like the scales had fallen from my eyes now. He was never really mine, was he? He never reallyknewme at all. All those lectures on how to succeed in the real world. His way of succeeding with laser focus, business acumen, boring meetings, and cut-throat stuff. I mean, how could he have ever thought I was interested in that? I even told him that wasn’t me. How could he have had so little curiosity to not ask what was? Granted, he was curiousnow. Until I blocked him the number of voicemails and texts I received could attest to that.
Please, talk to me, Luce.
I’m sorry, Lucy. Don’t freeze me out.
Baby, please. I’m so sorry. Please let me see you’re okay.
Then there were the times he came to the house. Mikey wouldn’t let him in, which was just as well – I was an absolute mess. Mikey had had just about enough of Felix. He told me about how he’d “punched him in his designer-stubbled face” when he’d first seen Felix back at the office. And how the bloody idiot didn’t even bother to duck. “It’s like hewantedto be punched,” Mike had said.
Punching people is not my brother’s vibe at all, but I’d never seen him as angry as when he picked me up from that café. Me blubbing continuously after I got home and throughout the police interview didn’t help either, but he and Mum insisted that this time I had to report the incident to the police. By the time he saw Felix, he was about ready to blow.
The fact that this whole thing would drive a wedge between Felix and the rest of my family made me so achingly sad. Sure, over the last few years Felix had kept his distance. He never came back to Little Buckingham anymore, despite my mum periodically fussing him to visit his mum. Bianca Morettiand Mum were friends now. Mum said that Bianca was lonely and that she missed Felix; that he’d come home more if it wasn’t for “that bloody man”. (Mum’s never been a fan of Felix’s dad.) But now Mikey had vowed never to speak to Felix again.
Mum was very quiet on the phone when I told her what had happened. I spared her most of the details, but she got the gist of what went on. She was absolutely furious about Will – fully ready to grab her rolling pin and take the first train to London. I had to explain that “beating him to a pulp” with kitchen equipment might cause problems when we tried to convict him. But she wasn’t as angry with Felix as I expected.
“Stupid, stupid boy,” she’d muttered. “Never did know what’s good for him. That father of his did a real number on him.” There was no heat in her tone, just heavy disappointment.
I swallowed and focused back on Harry and his wife.
“Of course, Lucy,” Verity said in a shaky voice. “I wouldn’t have brought it up it’s just…” When I looked up at her I was surprised to see her eyes were wet. “Sorry, stupid pregnancy hormones.”
I swallowed as I felt my eyes start to sting as well. When I offered Verity a watery smile she let out a small sob and launched herself at me in a hug, pregnancy bump and all.
“Okay, darling,” Harry said gently to his wife. “Let Lucy breathe.”
Verity pulled back, wiping tears from under her eyes. “Sorry,” she said.
“No don’t apologise,” I told her. “Hugs are always good.”
When Harry’s arm went around my shoulders for a quick squeeze, I jumped to hear Felix’s voice cracking across the large space.
“York!”
