I can’t believe it. My heart is pounding its way out of my chest and into my brain. Henry? Apparently so caring. Apparently so lovely. I had actually hoped – no, believed – that there might be something between us. All those kindnesses, those silent looks, the things that remained just under the surface, the words he never said during the day, the naughty ones whispered into my ear, the love that never made it to the surface. But instead, he is The Enemy, the gift that just keeps on giving! First he lies to me about Linda, sleeps with me and then he sells my home without even telling me. Can anyone else see a pattern here?
‘Faith? Are you still there? Look—’
‘I have to go, it’s almost my turn,’ I lie as I jab my index against the red icon on my screen and shove my mobile back into my pocket under my costume. I want to hide in here forever, but the kids will be looking for me, so I wipe my eyes and nose and find my way back to the auditorium and our seats, but a massive thing steps in my way.
‘Oi – you there!’ it says. I look up to see the Kremlin, in all its glory, sneering at me through the turquoise green and white striped dome. Someone’s father, unfortunately for them.
Okay, with my green drapery, tablet and torch, not to mention the twenty-five windows in my crown, I may not be as beautiful as him, but at least I don’t look down at other monuments. And try to embarrass them on an international level.
‘You Gabe York’s girlfriend?’
I groan inwardly. ‘No, I’m the Statue of Liberty,’ I reply cheekily.
He takes a closer look at me, becoming more and more brazen. ‘Yeah, it is you. I recognise you. I heard that your house is for sale. What’s the least you’ll take for it?’
I stop. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I wanna buy the beach house, but I ain’t payin’ full price, yeah?’
‘Well, you don’t have to buy that one, then.’ Imagine my poor home in the hands of this chav. In comparison, Vanessa’s treatment of it would resemble a relaxing session of chromotherapy.
‘Listen. I’m buyin’ it, and that’s the end of it.’
The finality in his words makes my insides lurch. Oh, the arrogance of someone who, God knows how, has managed to accumulate so much wealth and arrogance that he thinks he’s entitled to everything under the sun, and that the rules of polite society don’t apply to him. How I’d love to take him and people like him a peg or two down, on behalf of people like me.
‘Oh, you don’t want that house,’ I say instinctively.
‘And why not?’ he insists.
‘Well, it has its issues,’ I say, only partially hating myself, because most of me hates Henry.
‘What kind of issues?’ he asks, his eyebrow shooting up.
‘Oh, well, nothing that can’t be fixed with a few concrete injections here and there.’
He scratches his head under the dome, arrogance replaced by doubt. ‘Are we talking subsidence?’
God, I am awful. But he deserves it for being an absolute swine. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t go that far. I’m sure it’s something any old Larry can fix. Besides the mundic block and Japanese knotweed, I mean.’
His face falls. ‘Mundic block?’
‘Yes,’ I say gravely. ‘You know what that is, don’t you? It’s basically blocks of concrete mixed with mine waste. Over time, the chemicals cause the concrete to degrade.’
‘Well, I’m not buying a house built in mundic block and repatched by any old Larry.’ And with that, he and his other colourful foam domes march off.
Yes! Crisis averted for now. I haven’t a clue of how I’m going to do it, but I need to get my home back. Because I can’t go to New York anymore now. For several reasons. I look at Jowen and Verity, the children that Hope and I brought up together so lovingly all these years without a father, and I know I can’t leave them.
We raised them together, and I can’t just stop now. I’d be leaving them behind who knows for how many years if New York worked out. And Hope – we’ve been each other’s support system since we were little girls. What am I going to do without her?
And Thea and Rudy and Mike and Paul and Bob and Bill and… I suddenly realise that I can’t bring myself to leave what has become my home, with all the people I love. How can I possibly leave them? We’re in this life together. They’re my family.
And, well, then there’s that other reason that I can’t confess to anyone but myself. And Orson was also a beautiful part of it. But all this was before Henry got back with Linda. I know I haven’t got a cat’s chance in hell to be a part of Henry and Orson’s life anymore, of course. And the thought of never seeing them ever again… I swallow.
I don’t want to be the odd one out like in my relationship with Gabe. I always seem to be the one who, just like as a child, gets the boot. As if there were no room for me anywhere, and I know that I have no place in Henry’s life, but the thought of never seeing him and Orson ever again – I don’t know how I’m going to do it.
I have to tell Travis I’m not going to New York. He’ll understand. Perhaps, in the future, I may reconsider if the offer still stands. But for now, I can’t. So, no, I won’t be going to New York anytime soon. Not until I can sew my heart back together again. And Travis needs to know.
The vibrating of my mobile interrupts my thoughts. Speak of the devil. It’s Travis again. Maybe I should tell him now that no, I will not make a brand-new start of it, nor be a part of it, New York, New York.
‘Just checking on you – you okay?’
‘It’s going very well, thank you – the kids have stonking costumes and are having a whale of a time.’
‘That’s good! Look, I know you’re upset. Can I swing by, later on?’
‘I’m sorry, Travis, but I’ve got the kids for the night because Hope is pulling a double shift and won’t be home until late.’
He laughs. ‘You sure got saddled down there, kid.’
Saddled down? I understand that he’s an only child, but they are like my own children.
‘Maybe. But I’m their aunt, Travis. It’s what families do.’
‘Not all the way from New York, you won’t.’
Ah. Just the ticket. ‘Listen, Travis…’
‘What?’
‘I’m so sorry, but… I don’t think I’ll be able to come to New York after all.’
‘Listen, I know you’re upset about the house. But New York is a great opportunity.’
‘I know it is, and again, I’m ever so grateful…’
‘But…?’
‘It’s just that… I don’t want to leave Cornwall at the moment,’ I mumble.
‘You don’t want to leave Cornwall?’
‘This is my home, and I belong here. Perhaps in the future…’
A long silence, and then: ‘This is still about Henry, isn’t it?’
‘What? No.’
‘I get it now,’ Travis finally says. ‘You were holding out for The Big Guy.’
‘What do you mean? Why did you call him The Big Guy?’
‘Hello? Don’t you know who he is? Doesn’t his name ring a huge, clanging bell? Tarquin Henry Turner? What kind of an interior designer are you anyway, if you don’t even recognise the name of a top architect?’
I gasp as it finally dawns on me. Henry is… Tarquin Turner? The internationally acclaimed Tarquin Turner? How am I supposed to have recognised him? The bloke is a mystery as much as he is a national treasure. How was I supposed to know what he looked like? I’ve never seen a picture of him, what with this mania of secrecy. I had always admired his work, but thought he was some old geezer, a recluse, seeing as he never gives interviews or makes any public appearances either. And, truth be said, it’s not like Henry Turner is a particularly unique name, is it? He could, in effect, have been any Tom, Dick or Harry. But the joke’s on me.
‘I had no idea, but that makes no difference,’ I defend. Because, whatever I feel for Henry, my own private Henry, I’ll just have to keep it away in my heart. ‘Look, I’m sorry, I have to go – it’s almost our turn. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?’
‘Right,’ he drawls and hangs up.
On stage, one of Verity’s teachers taps the microphone, introducing the Taj Mahal, the Chinese Wall, and finally the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. The overall cheer is so loud we have to cover our ears.
When it’s North America’s turn, the kids and I cue up behind the Canadian National Tower and, believe it or not, Niagara Falls, with layers and layers of white, blue and green foam jumping off a ledge. You’d think someone would have to be crazy to attempt anything that difficult, but it’s rather quite good. I only hope I won’t trip or do something to embarrass the kids. The stage and I are not very fond of each other.
‘And finally, New York!’
‘There’s our cue,’ I whisper, moving to nudge Verity and Jowen forward, but they’re already centre stage, whirling and twirling, especially Jowen who was initially contrary to even wearing a costume. They are absolute naturals and the crowd loves them, strutting their stuff, beaming brighter than the Trevose Head Lighthouse. And then the assistant pops out of the blue, nudging me forward.
Despite my reserve, I saunter out on stage like the most confident model and strut my stuff for the kids, showing the audience the details of all of my pleats, the torch and tablet. Verity and Jowen are ecstatic, jumping up and down as the crowd cheers them on. New York is definitely one of the favourites so far, and why wouldn’t it be? It’s a great city, or so I hear.
And then we take our final bow and move off the stage, hugging and revelling in the audience’s cheers. I swear I have never seen them so happy.
‘They loved us!’ Verity cries, jumping up and down, hugging us.
‘How can they not?’ I reply, holding them to me. ‘You guys are fantastic!’
‘Thanks so much, Auntie Fi! Let’s send Mum some selfies!’ Jowen suggests, and we strike all sorts of silly poses. See? I can’t renounce this. This is love. Family. Life.
The Kremlin waddles past, glaring at me, the turquoise stripes on his face closer to purple. Maybe that will teach him to be an arse!
After an evening of soaking up fruit juice and praises for the quality of our costumes, as we are getting ready to leave, my mobile rings again. I should have left it at home, but Hope might need to speak to the kids. I glance at the screen. It’s Travis again. I hope he isn’t offended by my decision to stay in Cornwall.
‘Where the hell are you and what are you doing?’ he booms. Obviously, he is.
I stare at my mobile. His face is almost as purple as the Kremlin bloke’s. ‘I told you, I’m with my niece and nephew. Why?’
‘Because my client just rang me to tell me that he will never buy anything from me again, that’s why!’
‘What? Why?’
‘Because you told him that the beach house was slipping into the goddam sea!’
‘What…?’ Oh crikey. So that chav was Travis’s interested party? I bite my lip. ‘I didn’t exactly say that…’
‘You certainly said enough to scare him away! And mundic block, Faith? I’d never even heard of it before you mentioned it!’
‘I’m sorry, but there will be more buyers. Why is he so important anyway?’
‘Only because he’s the hugest financial investor in the south-west of England!’
The Kremlin? How is that even possible? My throat is suddenly dry. ‘I’m sorry, Travis, I truly am. I was just trying to stall the sale until I could somehow find the money to get my home back.’
‘As if you were ever going to have three million pounds!’ he booms.
Ouch. But who am I kidding? He’s absolutely right.
‘Henry was banking on that sale, Faith.’
‘Henry. And why would bloody Tarquin Henry Turner need the commission from the sale of my home?’ Henry is perhaps many things, but greedy, no. If anything, he is generous. This just doesn’t tally up.
Travis laughs bitterly. ‘Well, I hate to break it to you, Faith, but it was never your home in the first place.’
‘What are you talking about? Of course it was. Gabe and I bought it three years ago.’
‘Bought it yes. Kept up the mortgage payments, no.’
I know I’ve misunderstood, because it can’t possibly be true. It’s utterly ridiculous. ‘Wh-what?’
‘The guy’s in debt, Faith.’
‘You’re wrong, Travis. Gabe has loads of money.’
‘And you believe that just because Gabe told you so? The bloke who’s lied to you since the day you met him?’
‘What?’ I whisper as my knees become rubbery.
‘Henry designed and built the beach house,’ Travis says with an exasperated sigh. ‘And then he sold it to Gabe. Who started going broke, only Henry didn’t know. At first Henry chipped in to help pay the mortgage so Gabe – and you – wouldn’t lose the house. But after Gabe left you, Henry decided not to help him anymore. So he bought it back from the bank. And now he wants to sell the place off forever. You must be real proud of yourself, Faith! For years you’ve been squatting in that house unlawfully, and when Henry finally comes to claim what he’s due, you have the gall to ruin his reputation with one of the most important investors in the area? What has he ever done to you?’
I simply stare at my phone, his words making no sense. Gabe didn’t pay the entire sum? He lied to me? We owe Henry? Henry, who designed and built the beach house?
‘That’s impossible – Henry can’t have designed that house – my parents holidayed in it when Henry was still in primary school!’
‘No, Faith. Henry built the beach house after tearing down the old one standing on the same plot, which, funnily enough, actually was falling off the cliff.’
The house where my mum was abandoned is not the beach house…? It no longer exists? And for years, I thought I’d vindicated her by living there, and it turned out that the only place I’ve ever felt at home, my safe place, and I was nothing but a squatter?
‘But… but…’ is all I can manage as a million things race through my mind. But, most important of them all, I have offended Henry. Not only have I alienated him, but I have also ruined his reputation with an investor, and potentially, his career and perhaps even Orson’s wellbeing? Oh, my God!
‘But… why didn’t he tell me any of this?’
‘He didn’t have the heart to tell you,’ Travis explains curtly. ‘If Henry had been a lesser man, he’d have sued you and Gabe for it. But he didn’t want you to suffer any more than you already had. He gave up a lot of money, just for you, Faith.’
Henry… did this? For me? No, no, no…
He has been absolutely selfless, and what have I done? I’ve lost him three million pounds – twice. I’ve caused him so much damage without even trying!
‘I’ve got to talk to him,’ I cry, looking desperately around me. ‘Verity! Jowen, we have to go!’
‘Well, he’s in a late meeting right now and frankly I don’t think he wants to speak to you,’ Travis informs me.
‘But I have to speak to him!’ I plead. ‘If only to apologise,’ I cry and hang up while he’s still ranting at how inconsiderate I have been. Well, he’s bloody right. Never, ever have I wanted to hurt Henry in any way, despite what happened – or didn’t happen – between us. But evidently, I’ve lost him money and done his career an unimaginable amount of damage with one single lie.
My lip begins to tremble as the enormity of Henry’s sacrifices for me and for his former friend Gabe sink in. We owe him our livelihood, to say the least. And Gabe? He’d lied to me from the start, making Henry look like a shark having a hand in selling the beach house, when all he had wanted was to recuperate his three-million-pound loss. He’d been out of pocket for years on end, just to help out a friend who actually ignored and denied his debts.
‘What is it, Auntie Fi?’ Verity asks as Jowen unzips the top of the Chrysler building from his head. ‘Are you okay?’
‘We have to go, we have to go!’ I urge them and dash for the door.
‘Okay!’ Jowen agrees, all too happy to have an excuse to keep his costume on and they both follow me out into the parking lot to my car where they pile in without further ado.
‘Auntie Fi, where are we going?’ Jowen asks from the back seat where he is sprawled horizontally and will remain so until I can get him out of his costume, which is going to be a feat of its own as he seems to want to go to bed wearing it.
‘To make amends to someone I have hurt badly,’ I answer, wiping my eyes with one hand while with the other I grind the gearstick, tunnel-visioning the road. Will he ever forgive me for any of it all?
‘Who did you hurt, Auntie Fi?’
‘Only the kindest, most selfless man in the world,’ I mumble.
‘You mean Henry?’ Verity asks me.
‘Uh, yes…’
I look at her costume of the Fearless Girl and hope that she will always be so, even once the costume is off for good. I wonder if it would fit me at all, because right now I need all the courage I can muster to talk to him. Even if he’s married and just about as emotionally screwed up as I am, that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be grateful for everything else he’s done for me.
‘You must never be afraid to go after what you want, Verity,’ I inform her through a tight throat. ‘Because you should never be ashamed. Of anything.’
‘I’m not, Auntie Fi,’ she reassures me.
‘Good girl!’
I want her to never be afraid to go after what she wants, as opposed to me. All my life I’ve lived in fear of stepping on other people’s toes, afraid of the sound of my own voice. Even the bloody Wickfords – I was never confident enough to actually go and find them, march right in there and tell them what I could do.
And Henry – if I’d told him about my growing feelings without being afraid, maybe he and I would actually be together. But a bolder woman beat me to it. Granted, Linda had dibs on him being Orson’s mother, but still I should have had the courage to go up to him and tell him while he was single. But it’s too late for all that now. I’ll be lucky if he ever forgives me.
‘What did you do?’ Verity insists.
‘It’s not what I did, it’s what I didn’t do.’
‘Can’t you just say you forgot?’
‘Oh, sweetie, if only it were that simple,’ I whisper as I finally get to the main road. His office is a good ride away, but I have to give it everything I’ve got if I have half a chance to apologise. I don’t want to lose his friendship. I have come to care for him much too much.
I speed-dial Thea. ‘Yellow,’ she greets me.
‘Thea! I need you to babysit Verity and Jowen, can you?’
‘Of course! Are you okay?’
‘I’m in a pickle. Can you meet me at Henry’s office in Truro? I’ll look up the address...’
‘I know where it is. See you in twenty.’
‘Thank you, you’re an absolute star!’ I call before I ring off. ‘I promise I will make it up to you, guys,’ I repeat, feeling horrible for dragging them away from their night. Apparently I’ve got a lot of making up to do.
‘Are you kidding me?’ Verity chimes. ‘This is like in a real romcom!’
‘What do you know about romcoms?’
‘I watch them all the time, Auntie Fi! This is where you rush to tell him you love him!’
Clever girl! If only I could. But life has its own course.
And in a moment, it all becomes instantly clear to me who the complete, voluntary villain was here. Gabe was not, as he’d claimed, a victim of circumstances, but of his own stupidity and flightiness. He’d bought a house he couldn’t afford. I had no idea whatsoever that we had been in trouble. The one thing I leave in Gabe’s trust, and he manages to screw it up royally.
To think that all these years I’d revered him for his musical talent, his engaging smile and catchy way with words and music, when instead I’d completely overlooked his immense ability to weave tall tales, his selfishness, his temper tantrums and his instinct for survival at any cost, including those of his friends. And my own.
How could I have not seen what he was doing to me? How could I have been so blind to it all, defending him in the eyes of Henry, who had instead been the victim for years on end?
Henry’s kindness and generosity have no end. And I have made an absolute fool of myself in his eyes.
My phone rings loud on the Bluetooth system and without taking my eyes off the road, I push the answer button, hoping it’s Henry. Even if I don’t deserve him to call me, unless it’s to cover me with insults. That’s what I deserve.
‘Hey, Babes…’ comes the dreamy voice of the man who has ruined my life.
‘Kids – put your headphones on and listen to your music.’
‘Yay!’ they agree, and in one second they have zoned out, allowing me to deliver one of my special masterpieces. And do I owe it him.
‘Don’t you Babes me,’ I start on him like an old, disgruntled wife. Thank God we had never married. ‘When the hell were you going to tell me that our home was never ours? That you lied to me and never actually paid Henry for the house? I can’t believe you kept it from me all this time!’
‘But I did it for you…’
‘Me? You did what for me exactly, Gabe?’
‘You wanted that house.’
‘Yes, for my own reasons, which you never understood. But you know what, Gabe? You’re right – I should have never trusted you with it. Knowing your financial skills.’
‘But, I did it for you – I’d have been happy even in a hut with you,’ he moans.
‘Oh, don’t even try that on, you miserable, lying, cheating…’ My eyes swing to the rear-view mirror as I clamp my mouth shut, but whether it’s to stop yelling or to stifle a sob, I’m still not sure.
‘I’m hanging up,’ I warn him and ring off.
All I know is that, together and in different ways, we’ve wronged Henry terribly. Gabe has tried to put him off, and instead of making it better for Henry, what do I do? I lose him the very buyer who will put Henry back in the black. And all for a house? Bricks and mortar? What the hell is wrong with me, if I can value an object more than a person?
He must think very lowly of us – I think very lowly of us, and although I feel my faults very keenly and am deeply ashamed, there is nothing I can do to put it right but grovel for his forgiveness. And then, he’ll never have to see me ever again.
As I make a wide turn, my mobile rings again.
‘Hi, Faith. It’s Vanessa.’
What a coincidence. ‘I have just found out what a—’ I sneak a peek at the kids in the back and readjust my verbal register. ‘I’ve just discovered a thing or two about our golden boy – not.’
‘What do you mean?’
I don’t know why I’m even telling my nemesis something so personal – perhaps to ward off any future probability of her making the huge mistake of giving that tosser another chance. A chance he simply doesn’t deserve. After all, we ladies have to stick together.
‘That Gabe had never fully paid for the house. Did you know that?’
‘No!’ she gasps.
‘Yes!’ I assure her.
‘Unbelievable! But what do you care now anyway? We’re both free of him, and that can only be a good thing.’
‘Of course,’ I agree. ‘I can only pity his next victim. But more than that, I’m angry with myself for—’
‘For what? Why are you mad at yourself?’
I huff. What the heck, I might as well. ‘Well… I’ve sort of scored an own goal.’ I roll my eyes at my own idiocy, because even I can’t believe what I’ve done.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I bit the hand that fed me. Henry Turner designed and built the beach house. But Gabe never paid for it.’
‘Why not? Money’s never been a problem for him.’
‘Well, apparently he couldn’t pay for the house. By that time we were already living in it, and he asked Henry for some more time. Henry agreed, being his friend. But things just got worse and worse for Gabe who, however, never owned up to it. He never told me we were living off someone else’s charity. Henry brought a couple around a few months ago to look at it, but I didn’t know the house was his.’
‘Of course not, how could you?’ she sympathises and for the first time ever I feel that she understands where I’m coming from.
‘So how did you score your own goal?’ she asks.
‘Well, in order to keep my home, which I thought was rightfully mine, I… told a prospective buyer that the house was sinking into the sea.’
Vanessa gasps. ‘You didn’t!’
‘I did. I’ve ruined Henry’s reputation. And there’s nothing I can do to help him get it back. I’m on my way to his office.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I’m not quite sure yet. He’ll most likely have me kicked out the minute he sees my face,’ I moan.
‘Not if I’m with you.’
‘What? Oh. Thanks, Vanessa, but I don’t think—’
‘Relax, his family and my family are very old friends.’
‘Really?’
‘He’ll listen to me. I’ll meet you at his offices!’
‘Where are they?’
‘Breakwater Street in Truro. You really had no idea of who he is, did you?’
‘No, of course not.’ But it doesn’t change a thing. And considering what I’ve done to him, his security will probably throw me out the minute they see me. But with Vanessa, I might have half a chance. What an ironic turn my life has taken, if I need my nemesis to help me talk to the man I had been slowly building a special friendship with. But Henry is worth the humiliation. Anything to undo the damage I’ve caused him.
‘Okay, thank you, Vanessa!’ I call into my mobile. ‘See you there!’
Checking traffic, I merge onto a wider road as my satnav goes completely barmy on me, giving directions to turn left, right, to go straight and finally go straight at a T-junction by ramming into a low stone wall. I pull over onto the kerb to check my whereabouts, and, yes, gather my wits. I reprogramme it for Breakwater Street in Truro. That should be straightforward enough. Only it isn’t, and it takes me longer than I’d anticipated, and when we finally pull up, Vanessa is waiting for me at the entrance alongside Thea.
‘Okay, guys, off you go with Thea! She’ll take you to her home and order you a pizza, is that okay?’
I’m a horrible, horrible aunt. But they don’t seem to think so.
‘Good luck, Auntie Fi!’ Verity shouts as they pile into Thea’s car.
‘Go get him, girl!’ she calls as she drives off.
I make a mad dash for Vanessa.
‘You’re takin’ the piss, right?’ she demands, wide-eyed, as I rush to the doors, forgetting all about my costume.
I look down at my forgotten bronze and green pleated garment. ‘Oh, crap!’
But to think that Vanessa has the gall to criticise one of my outfits is truly rich.
‘Never mind.’ She hastens me towards the door. ‘Let’s go, go, gooooohmygawwwwwd!’
‘What? What is it?’ I cry as she doubles over, grabbing my wrist.
‘Pain! The baby!’
‘What?’ I gasp.
‘The baby, the baby – I can’t lose my baby, I can’t lose my baby,’ she cries and I feel her fear in her grip, see it in her lost eyes. ‘It happened to my mother, but I can’t – I couldn’t stand to lose my baby!’
The motherly love she is feeling shakes me to my very core, snapping me out of my own plight. Vanessa is carrying a baby. A real person inside her. And she’s afraid of losing it.
‘You won’t,’ I promise her. ‘Don’t be afraid.’ Which is exactly how I’m feeling as I steer her to my car. ‘We’ll get you to the A&E in a jiffy!’
Without further ado, I bundle her into the back seat.
‘Hurryyyy!’ Vanessa pleads, beginning to cry again.
‘Hang on just a little longer!’ I say in an even voice.
‘To whaaaat?’ she screeches.
Trying to keep it together, I reverse out of my parking spot and shift into first gear, heading off like we’re being chased by the devil himself. With any luck the coppers will be on our trail and we can get them to escort us to the A&E like you see in the movies.
By the time we get to the hospital Vanessa and I are pretty much in the same perspiratory state and I wouldn’t mind having a little screaming session myself.
‘Please don’t leave me, please don’t leave,’ she wails as she bends over at the waist, huffing and puffing.
‘Of course I won’t leave you, Vanessa,’ I promise.
‘And please don’t tell Gabe!’
‘Of cour— What?’
‘I don’t want him anywhere near me! I’ll kill him if I see him!’ she hollers, and something tells me it’s not just the cramps speaking.
Thankfully, bless the NHS, just as we pass the threshold, a nurse with a wheelchair comes rushing to our assistance, and Vanessa is whisked away into very capable hands.
I pull out Vanessa’s phone from her bag and call her parents who promise they’re on their way, thankfully.
Gabe. Vanessa has specifically asked me to not call him. What right have I to go against someone’s wishes? Gabe has, in my biased opinion, forgone any rights to anything, but luckily I can’t be blamed for Vanessa’s decision.
I pull out my phone and send Hope a voice message to explain that the kids are with Thea and that as soon as I’m done I’ll fetch them and bring them back home. When she texts back a thumbs up, her faith in me warms me from the inside out. I know she trusts me completely because I’ve co-raised them, but it feels so good to be appreciated and trusted with something so precious as her children.
And then I begin to think of Vanessa’s baby and pray with everything I’ve got that they’ll both be okay. She doesn’t need Gabe, and the good thing is that her parents will be there for her. She’s lucky in that. And I know that, despite her craziness, Vanessa is going to be fine. She has a support system behind her.
I look up as Vanessa’s parents, breathless and worried, burst through the main entrance.
I point to the left and, nodding blindly, they race in that direction.
Henry. Should I try and call him? To what end? He’ll only kick me out. But I have to make good what I did wrong. Surely Verity and Jowen know the Kremlin’s kids? Perhaps I could get his name off them and speak to him directly?
Mr Chatsbury is signalling to me from across the corridor and I jump to my feet and rush to his side.
‘She’s okay – they’re both okay. She’s still pregnant,’ he croaks, breaking down from the sheer relief. Poor, poor man. It’s so wonderful to see the love he has for his daughter despite all the trouble she has put them through all those years. Most parents do love their children, no matter what, and it’s so beautiful to see a huge, iron-hard man like him succumb to love.
Before I can help myself, I throw my arms around him. ‘I knew it. Oh, thank God!’
‘Thank you, Faith,’ he sniffs. ‘For what you did. I know that you and Vanessa—’
‘Forget it – it’s all water under the bridge,’ I assure him. And, strangely, something I thought I’d never in a million years think, I realise it is. In the face of something like this, old grudges don’t matter anymore. Life is not about keeping score.
‘Go on in, she wants to see you,’ he says, wiping his eyes.
I smile at him and head off for room twenty-two and stop at the door. There she is, haggard but all smiles. ‘Hey…’ she chimes softly. ‘Looks like we made it.’
I nod. ‘I’m so relieved you’re okay. You’re both okay.’
‘Thanks to you and your quick response. They should have you on their emergency team here.’
I bite my lip. ‘Vanessa, anything you need—’
‘I know,’ she says, smiling up at me. ‘Who knew, you and me, actual… friends?’
I nod and swipe at a tear. I don’t know why I’m crying. All I know is that I can’t I stop.
‘You need to go, now, Faith. Go talk to Henry.’
I bite my lip. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Faith – you saved our lives. Now go and talk to him.’
‘Okay.’ I roll my eyes. ‘If he’ll even listen.’
‘Of course he will. I know Henry – he’s a reasonable man. If you explain it to him—’
‘There’s nothing that can excuse me, Vanessa. I acted badly.’ Apparently she wasn’t the only monster around. ‘I have ruined his business. How can I ever fix that?’
‘By going to him – now.’
‘Okay, then.’
I pat her arm awkwardly. We’ll get there, eventually, I think. ‘Get some rest.’
‘Keep me posted!’ Vanessa calls after me and I wave back at her. Friends. Indeed, whoever saw that one coming?
I go back to my car and head to what is hopefully the last leg of my Making Amends Journey.
About thirty minutes later, only a few minutes away from Henry’s offices, my mobile rings.
‘Faith?’
‘Travis…’
‘So you haven’t seen Henry yet?’
‘Not yet. I’m going to his office right now.’
‘It’s no use. He’s left.’
‘Left for where?’
‘The airport. That’s all I know.’
‘Oh for Christ’s sake,’ I groan, preparing for a U-turn. ‘Okay. Thanks. I only hope I’ll get there in time before he…’ I swallow, unable to speak. I have to speak to him before he leaves. I can’t bear the weight of this any longer. So what if he hates my guts now. I still need to explain. To say I’m sorry. To tell him that I never meant him any harm. And that I forgive him for leading me on, when instead he was getting back with his wife. Technically, we’re even. But I still need closure.
‘So you really do love him, then,’ Travis says softly.
‘Travis—’
‘I guess I wasn’t good enough for you.’
‘That has nothing to do with Henry. Please don’t be upset, Travis. Ours was always a friendship – you know that.’
‘Well, I was kinda hoping it would evolve into something better.’
‘Yes, well. I’m sorry.’
He sighs. ‘No hard feelings, Faith. I tried. And good luck. I’ll put in a good word for you in New York anyway – just say when.’
‘Thank you, Travis. You’re a great friend.’
‘Yeah, yeah, whatever.’
‘Bye!’ I chime as I ring off.
I know I’m still dressed as the Statue of Liberty, but at this point, what does it even matter anymore? I’ve already ruined my chances of work in this corner of the world anyway, so I might as well go the whole hog and try to save someone else’s career. And I’ve got a very narrow margin of a window to do it.