Chapter 29
29
That night, I slept at the Wilders’ house on Makepeace Avenue, as I had every night since the end of January. But I didn’t really sleep; I lay in my bed, waiting to hear Faye’s fists on the massive front door, her shouting for me to get out, to give back her things.
I gave up on sleep and started packing at five a.m., the sky still inky black outside the sweeping windows. Lying in bed, I’d dreaded this, but now that I was doing it, it felt right. I wouldn’t miss these floor-to-ceiling windows, their push-button electric shades, the overstuffed furniture, the sherbet-orange koi fish in the decorative pond. I wouldn’t miss that other, glossier person it seemed like I could be, or could become, living in a place like this. That wasn’t me, and this wasn’t home.
Not that a couch at Liv’s would be, either—my only hope was that she would let me stay with her for a few nights, even though I’d been a truly dismal friend lately. There was still a subletter in my bedroom in Andre’s flat, and I couldn’t afford the rent for that room anyway.
Almost every day since I met Pippa at the Savoy, I had thought of my mother and wished she could see me. Eating my first fig from a silver tray, kissing a handsome man at midnight on New Year’s, standing under a rain of red carnations in Lisbon. I knew she’d worried about me, worried that I would end up stuck, like her and Dad. I thought these things would mean I’d succeeded, escaped. And last night at that absurd party, long before Faye arrived, I’d realized that none of it was worth it. That wasn’t success.
But of course, if Mom were here now, she would only see the truth: that I had come to this new place and tried to bury the life I’d had, a life and a family I was ashamed of. I had tried to prove to everyone, and myself, that I was not that person anymore. But I was. And in the process of trying, of wallpapering over my hurt with nicer things, I had only succeeded in spreading it around to all the people who had been good, caring, generous friends to me. Liv and Andre first, and then everyone else. Just because I hadn’t meant any harm didn’t mean that I hadn’t caused any.
I’d never see Pippa again. The Wilders would find her a new tutor this summer.
And Tess: I could still see her face in the ballroom, drawn with disbelief, as Callum steered me toward the door. When she woke up this morning, when everything I’d done was visible in the sunlight, what would she think of me?
All the things I’d brought with me fit into two suitcases. A couple of oversized shopping bags were enough for the things I’d bought since moving here. I had always taken fastidious care of Faye’s clothes, followed every label, steamed out every last wrinkle before hanging them back where they came from. So there was nothing left to do in her closet but turn off the light and slide the door closed. I left the Elie Saab dress hanging from a hook on the door. It needed to be dry-cleaned, but someone else would have to do that. I needed to leave.
But first, I spent two hours cleaning the house top to bottom as the sky outside slowly lightened to an irresolute gray. I had always enjoyed cleaning the house—every room was so elegant, so meticulously designed and decorated—but these hours felt like penance, like the only small start I could make on turning back all my mistakes. Because in reality, I couldn’t fix any of it.
I was starting to mop the dining room when someone knocked. My first thought was Faye, of course, but surely she wouldn’t be polite enough to knock? Then the door nudged open on its own, and Theo was calling to me.
I put the mop down and went to meet him. He was standing in the hall, sliding off his shoes, and he had a bag of pastries in one hand. I was so happy to see him, to see one friendly face, but the tears did their own thing.
“Sorry,” I said, wiping at them with my sleeve. “I’m just glad to see you. It was a long night.” Longer because I’d thought he might leave the party, come to comfort me. I didn’t know what to do with the fact that he hadn’t. But in this moment, that seemed only a minor detail in the context of the larger disaster.
Theo hugged me tightly, wrapping me up in his long arms, the pastries in their bag warm against my back. I sagged against him, feeling the comfort and safety only he could give me. “I’m sorry, sweets, how are you doing?” he said, putting his lips against my hair. “Did you sleep?”
“Not a lot,” I said. “I’ve been packing up, mostly.”
He released me a little, leaning back to look at me. “What? Why? That seems a bit much, don’t you think?”
I blotted my damp eyes. “It doesn’t feel right for me to stay here. I don’t want to put the Wilders in an awkward position. I don’t want them arguing about what to do with me. It’s my mess, you know?” I owed Faye that much. She’d been horrible last night, but she’d been right, too. I’d put both of us in that position.
He followed me to the kitchen and took a plate from the cupboard. He poured the pastries out onto it and set out a pile of napkins. “Eat,” he commanded. “I’ll make coffee.”
“No, please don’t, I just cleaned the espresso machine. I’m heading out soon.”
Theo put his hand on my back and guided me to one of the tall stools at the marble kitchen island. “Just sit,” he said. “Eat something. You’re rushing this, I think. Just give me a moment.”
I didn’t want to, but I sat anyway. I took a few bites of a croissant and watched him move around the kitchen, warming up the espresso machine, measuring out the grounds. It did feel nice to have someone else in charge, even if it was just for a few minutes. I could trust him. Theo understood this world better than I did; he’d grown up in it. He knew Faye. He knew her well, and had for years. He would tell me what could be done, if anything.
When he set down two mugs of coffee with cream and sat beside me, he seemed far too relaxed. Instead of calming me, it put me on edge.
“Look,” he said, putting a hand on my forearm. “Faye will calm down. She’s a bit of a drama person, you know that. I think she was just surprised that you’d assimilated so well here. Without her.”
I grimaced. “Callum read that right. She only liked me when I was her little polish-up project.”
“I don’t think this will be such a big thing, once it settles down.” He nudged my coffee toward me, reminding me to drink. “I mean, sure, it was a big surprise last night—when I got there, everyone was comparing notes, what they knew about you. But they were just shaken up.”
I looked down at my coffee, its pretty walnut color, and took a long sip. I took another, let it flow warmth into my body, which had been shivery since last night. Clearly, Theo had heard right away about what happened to me and then continued the rest of his evening at the party. Chatting, eating canapés, clinking glasses.
He leaned forward to catch my eye. “But it’s not like you were trying to take their firstborn child, scam them for money. You were just a friend.”
“Just a friend,” I said with a little laugh. It sounded so fucked-up when he said it like that. That I’d done all this so I could be just-a-friend to these people. Was I that desperate to fit in? Stupidly, it had felt like I was proving something. If I could make a life here, with these people, maybe I could let go of the one I’d lived before, marked by disappointments. Maybe I could shed the years like a skin, be new and untouched. Get my visa to stay forever, and never look back at the places that hurt to see, the version of me it hurt to be.
I took a napkin from the pile and held it to my face, breathing, reaching for calm. The house would never be clean if I had to keep stopping to cry.
Theo’s arm went around my back. “No, don’t cry,” he said. “Please don’t. In a few weeks, if you apologize, they’ll accept it, I’m sure. Really they will.”
I stood up, shaking my head. “You’re wrong,” I said. “This is it.” I had to leave. I’d have to clean the espresso machine again, and take out the trash, and then I could go.
I noticed then that Theo wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at his phone, the frown lines pinched together between his eyes. “Oh, really,” he said. “That’s a bit much.”
I moved to stand behind him, to see his phone screen. It was open to Facebook, which wasn’t unusual. But I could see the post he was looking at, and it was from Faye.
I took the phone from Theo; I didn’t read the post, but my name was in it, and a photo of Faye and me together on New Year’s Eve. My fingers shook as I clicked through the comments and replies. Disbelief, outrage, indignity on her behalf. They called me a scammer. They called me a grifter, thief, poser, pleb, desperate wannabe, shameless social climber, American trash. People I’d met, friends of my friends, said they hoped never to see me out again. I’d better not show up places, or they’d have words for me. Had she called the police yet? Because she should.
Theo pulled up Twitter and let out a groan, but I didn’t see the rest. I put my forehead down on the counter and cried. At least now he had to believe me. It was over.
“I’ll talk to her, I’ll get her to come around,” he said, rubbing my back, and it almost sounded like he was trying to convince himself, not me. “She’ll listen to me. She always has.”
I pushed his hand off me. Why was he pretending that she would ever be reasonable? Why was he so sure he could talk her down?
“Where were you last night when Faye got there?” I asked. “You were there when the speech ended, but you never came back.”
Theo made a face. “Well, to be honest, I went to have a word with Callum. I could see that he was bothering you, during the speech. Trying to get you to come over to him. In front of everyone.”
“He was trying to warn me.”
Theo nodded. “Yes, he said as much.”
“And then?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he told you then. He told you Faye was there, he told you what was going to happen. But you didn’t come back, you didn’t help me.”
Theo reached for his croissant on the counter, paused to take a bite. “I needed the bathroom,” he said finally. “You remember, after the speech, I told you.”
Obviously a lie. I wanted to slap the pastry out of his hand. “You just left me to the dogs. Callum came, but you didn’t. He was there, he tried to help.”
“Yes, I’m sure he did,” Theo said sourly. “Your knight in shining armor.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Theo had a retort, but I wasn’t listening. It was too late; finally, I was coming to it, putting together all the little things I’d noticed for months. The way Theo knew his way around this house, the way he’d always known where the coffee was, and the button next to the bed for the electric shades, and the weird backwards lock at the top of the front door. How he’d shown up at the Savoy the same time as Faye, tasting of champagne. How he’d made himself scarce last night when she arrived.
“You and Faye, you aren’t just friends,” I said.
Theo stiffened, infinitesimally, but I felt it. “What makes you say that?” he said, his voice warily neutral. It was all the answer I needed.
“When? How long? All this time?” I demanded, turning fully to face him. The first wave of righteous anger felt like air, like gulping straight oxygen. Here, at least, at last, I wasn’t the one who’d done wrong. They were liars, too. The scene with Faye last night made so much more sense now: her vindictiveness, the way she kept dropping Theo’s name. I was, in some weird sector of her weird brain, a rival.
I watched Theo’s chest expand and contract, two long, thoughtful, calculating breaths. “At school, we dated a little. University, I’d see her sometimes when I was down from Cambridge. All a long time ago. It wasn’t a serious thing, Anna. Not even worth mentioning. She’d tell you the same.”
“But she didn’t. She never told me,” I said. Then, incredulously, remembering: “She encouraged me. She said you were a good guy.” I bet it had been like the clothes, for her. Like she was offering me Theo for occasional use. Her power, orchestrating all of us to suit her.
Theo’s eyebrows went up. “Am I not?”
I only laughed.
“Anna,” he said, taking my hand, “I promise, nothing’s going on with Faye.”
“Don’t!” I said. “Don’t lie to me. I know you’ve been sneaking around. I knew something was up. You were so weird at the Savoy. Both of you. And I fucking ignored it.”
Theo looked at me, weighing his next move: truth or lie. He started to speak, and I just shook my head. “The way I trusted you. Such an idiot. I thought you were the one person here looking out for me.”
I stood up, but he reached to pull me back in. “Anna, please. You’re just upset.”
Why yes, I was a touch upset. Incredible powers of observation. I pointed at the door. “Go.”
Theo protested, told me to calm down. I was physically pushing his enormous frame toward the exit when the doorbell chimed.
It was Faye, probably. Good, she could have him. And I would go upstairs and get my bags and call a cab and leave all of this behind. She could clean the stupid espresso machine. I was done.
Theo followed me to the door. I took a deep breath, bracing for another tirade, and opened it.
A small man in a suit stood in front of me, no one I’d ever seen. “Anna Byrne?” he said.
I nodded.
“Mr. Raleigh,” he said, touching his tie with a diminutive hand. “I’m the Wilder family’s solicitor. They’ve asked me to come and let you know that you have until five p.m. today to vacate the property. You’re to take all your things, but to leave anything that you found here, anything that has not been expressly given to you as a gift.”
It hurt to hear, but none of it was a surprise. Well, hearing it from a lawyer was a surprise. That was a nice touch. Better than sending Faye. “Yes, I understand,” I said. “I’m planning to be gone in an hour, at most.”
He nodded. “It is also their wish that you should refrain from contacting the family in any way. This extends to Pippa Wilder, with whom I understand you are in regular contact.”
“It’s not like I’m initiating it,” I said, irritation rippling under my skin. “She texts me sometimes, about TV shows and stuff. She’s just a kid.”
Mr. Raleigh leaned forward, extending his business card. “Any further contact should be made through my office. We’ll be handling the next steps.”
“Next steps?”
“Possible legal action. We’re considering all options.”
Theo made a sound of disbelief. “What are you playing at? She borrowed some clothes. Nothing’s been stolen, everything’s here.”
I felt the room darkening around me, the sky blotting out above quiet, peaceful, moneyed Makepeace Avenue. I swayed and Theo put an arm around my waist, pulling me against him. I wanted to shove him away, but in the moment I couldn’t even remember why. I only knew I wanted to be gone.
“Anything else?” Theo said acidly. “High treason? Espionage?”
Mr. Raleigh shook his head and started to say goodbye. I felt rather than saw Theo slam the door in his face.