Max was at King’s Cross station by 6.30 a.m. She was worried about her sister. Aside from the time her shit of a boyfriend had cheated on her, Max couldn’t think of a time when Lucy had had a crisis and needed her. It was always Lucy who guided Max, who made her believe in herself when she was down. She had a way of making Max feel like a wonderful person, even with the worst of hangovers. And Lucy told Max that without her, she would be another person – like the girls at her magazine. Max had taught her what it was to be yourself, to have a personality, to embrace life.
Max was shocked when she saw Lucy come off the train. She looked tiny, vulnerable and exhausted.
Lucy fell into Max’s arms and sobbed – heaving sobs that seemed more powerful than her whole being.
‘Come on, sis, you’re safe now. Let’s get you home and you can tell me all about it.’
Back at the flat, Max tucked Lucy up on the sofa with a fleecy duvet normally reserved for Max’s hangovers.
As Lucy told her of the events of the night before, Max was horrified. She was furious too that Hartley hadn’t accepted she had nothing to do with it.
‘What choice did he have, Max? When we got back to Robbie’s he told me he needed time to think, that he didn’t want to believe I would betray him when I knew that privacy and loyalty were so important to him… but he was at a loss to understand how a photographer would know where we were…’ Lucy’s voice trailed off.
‘What? What else?’
‘He asked if I thought you had something to do with it, because you work for a tabloid.’
‘He did?’
‘You have to see his logic.’
‘I guess.’
But Lucy knew Max would never betray her in any way – no matter how many brownie points it would score with her boss.
Lucy’s voice was strangled, as she tried to hold back her tears. ‘I felt ashamed when I saw how he looked at me, how his friends looked at me, Max.’
Max opened her arms for a hug but Lucy shrugged her off.
‘But I also felt angry that he wouldn’t just take my word for it. How could he think I’d do that? But Max, everything was pointing to me. He really had no choice but to at least ask for time to think. I just don’t understand what happened.’
Max placed her hand under Lucy’s chin and raised her head so she could look in her eyes.
‘Oh I think you do. This has Bridget’s talons all over it. And I’ll prove it if it’s the last thing I do.’
Lucy suddenly looked like she’d come out of a trance.
‘Bridget? You think Bridget was behind it?’
‘Absolutely. It’s the only explanation. I’ve no doubt that she’s evil enough and that she hates you enough – for Ascot and for going out with Hartley.’
The thought had crossed Lucy’s mind as she tossed and turned on her bed on the train trying to work out what had happened. But she had dismissed it straight away, certain she must be going mad. No one would do that, surely? The thought that someone could hate her so much made her feel sick. Lucy couldn’t bring herself even to discuss the possibility with Max.
‘God, I’ve been so wrapped up in myself,’ she said as brightly as she could manage. ‘I forgot to ask: what did you think of my dad? And Ben and Luke? He gave you a lift home, no? That must have been so weird for you. I can’t thank you enough for coming out with my passport. Mind you, it wasn’t quite the trip I’d hoped for.’
Max thought about telling her sister how wonderful she thought her brother was. But it wasn’t the time. Her Ambi Pur story could wait too. Lucy had enough to take in for now.
‘Oh no worries,’ she said, adopting her best sing-song carefree voice. ‘I thought they were all lovely, Luce, just lovely. Listen, I don’t want you worrying about anything, OK? Everything will be fine.’
Lucy squeezed her sister’s hand. ‘Thanks, Max.’