Chapter 8
8
KATE
If I thought my life was like a Black Mirror episode before, now it’s as if Yorgos Lanthimos turned his hand to romcoms. ‘Surreal’ doesn’t even begin to describe it.
As I listen intently to Adriana telling me about her courtship with Jon, I struggle to reconcile the Jon she’s describing with the man I know. There are similarities, of course – the most notable is that he’s attentive, yet loves her independence – but there are also glaring differences.
For one, her Jon is a diamond dealer.
I already knew this from Willem, but hearing Adriana’s depiction of Jon’s intricate lies is another jarring reminder that this is really happening.
And commercial pilot, diamond dealer – two professions that couldn’t be further apart. From each other, or from the truth – that Jon is an idle, entitled toff, or what the Americans refer to as a ‘trust-fund baby’. An extremely wealthy man, who inherited everything he has and contributes nothing to the world but lies – and with all his jet-setting about, a heavy carbon footprint.
‘I notice you’re not wearing your ring,’ I say when the opportunity arises.
Adriana glances at her hand. ‘Oh, I take it off when I go swimming or to yoga. It’s too…’ She wiggles her fingers as she searches for the right word.
‘Big?’ I ask.
‘Yes! Huge! Two and a half carats! A great behemoth of a thing. That’s why it was so easy to believe Jon worked at Gassan. I would have preferred something far more tasteful.’
‘I felt exactly the same way about mine. Margot calls it THE MONSTROSITY – all capital letters.’
Adriana chuckles. She seems to possess a decent sense of humour, which is impressive all things considered. She’s certainly run the gamut of emotions this morning – a bit like me a week ago.
‘I’ll be right back,’ she says, jumping up from the sofa and trotting out to her studio. She returns less than a minute later bearing a ring box.
‘Here,’ she says, opening it and handing it over.
‘Oh my god,’ I say, staring at the ring. ‘That’s identical to mine.’
‘I thought it might be. Kanker! ’
‘I couldn’t have said it better myself,’ I say, meeting her eyes. I snap the box shut one-handed and return it. ‘You know, Margot made some preliminary enquiries this past week. Those rings are worth around ￡30,000 – possibly more.’
Her jaw drops and she slowly sits, clearly dumbfounded. ‘That’s…’ Lips parted, her gaze fixes on the benchtop. ‘I knew he’d spent a lot of money on it but that kind of excess… it’s obscene .’
‘That’s the perfect way to describe it. Will you return it? To Jon, I mean.’
‘I have no idea. You?’
‘I’m keeping mine,’ I say decisively. ‘I’ll sell it, give some money to charity… put the rest towards my mortgage…’
She nods, a far-off look in her eyes. I can only imagine what’s going on inside her head.
‘Can I ask…’ I say, drawing her attention. ‘I know it’s a lot to get your mind around, but I’m wondering if you ever had doubts?’
‘About Jon – our relationship?’ she asks.
‘Yes.’
She nods. ‘I did, yes. All the time, but I ignored them. I convinced myself it was because I’d never really dated a man before. Jon’s older, he has this incredible career, he’s worldly…’ I note that she’s still talking about him in present tense and I wonder how long that will take to change.
‘But all my boyfriends before Jon…’ she continues. ‘Willem called them “bad boys” – no money, no ambition, no direction. But all very good looking,’ she adds with a wink.
‘Jon’s not unattractive, though,’ I say.
‘No, but…’ She shrugs, not saying anything further, but I get it. There are Henry Cavills and there are Simon Peggs. Jon’s attractive in his own way but he’s more of a Pegg than a Cavill.
‘So, you were drawn to how different Jon was from the blokes you dated before,’ I suggest.
‘Yes, exactly. And what about you?’
Not for the first time in this conversation, I sense her reticence. Adriana both wants to know and doesn’t, which I completely understand.
‘I had different reasons for falling for Jon,’ I admit. ‘Mostly that his life dovetailed so easily with mine. I thought we had similar values, wanted similar things. In many ways, it felt simple, uncomplicated.’
‘Uncomplicated!’ She laughs freely at that.
‘Yeah, yeah…’ I say, sniggering along with her.
‘There is something else…’ she says when our laughter dies. ‘And this must be why I convinced myself that this was a real, grownup relationship… It wasn’t all about sex , you know?’
‘Same with me!’ I reply candidly, instantly wishing I could take it back.
Adriana smirks at me, her eyes narrowing.
‘Sorry – too much information,’ I say.
‘It’s okay. I get it. Jon’s not the most…’
‘No, he isn’t,’ I reply. ‘But I convinced myself that the intimacy side of things didn’t matter as much as everything else.’
‘So, we’ve both been lying to ourselves,’ she observes, her lips flattening into a line.
‘I’d say so, yes.’
I’m thrown off kilter when an unnerving mental picture pops up, unbidden and unwanted – Jon and Adriana in bed together. It’s like poking an open wound with a stick and I swallow hard, tamping down the rising bile.
‘Are you okay?’ she asks, her face etched with concern.
I look away from her potent gaze, wondering how to answer because I am very much not okay. But she’s been open with me – this has been one of the frankest conversations of my life – so I may as well be truthful about everything.
‘Adriana, as easy as it is to talk to you – and believe me, I’m astounded by that, almost as much as you existing in the first place… But that aside… It’s difficult picturing you and Jon together, especially intimately. Even though I know up here’ – I tap the side of my head – ‘that Jon’s whole persona is a fabrication, my heart is taking a little longer to catch up.’
‘I understand,’ she says, her eyes filled with empathy.
There’s a profound relief in sharing my predicament with someone who truly gets it, and I exhale slowly, the unease giving way to calm. I send her a warm smile and she returns it.
‘And I want to say something, but I don’t want it to come across as condescending – or insulting.’
‘You can say it,’ she replies.
‘It’s just… you seem so stoic about everything. I did not handle the news as well as you have.’
Her brows lift in disbelief, then she grins at me.
‘That’s generous, considering I got home an hour ago and you’ve already seen me shouting at my brother, then sobbing on his shoulder, and now I’m tipsy on vodka. At eleven in the morning.’
At the mention of vodka, I eye my half-drunk glass. With the stroopwafels and the heightened emotions, I don’t think I should drink any more, and I push it away.
‘Now can I say something?’ Adriana asks.
‘Of course.’
‘When Willem first told me about you, I tried to convince myself you weren’t real, only I knew he wouldn’t lie to me about something like that. He never lies about anything. But I felt stupid and gullible, so I told myself he must be mistaken. Although, he’s also never mistaken. It’s really annoying that he’s so perfect.’ We share a gentle laugh. ‘Anyway, I knew deep down that it was true – that you and Jon were also engaged – but I kept lying to myself. I even convinced myself it was a good idea to introduce him to our parents.’
‘Willem told me about that. It was the clincher – what made me decide to come.’
‘I did wonder how he convinced you.’
‘He seems like a good man – and a good brother,’ I say.
She sighs. ‘He is. Willem’s always looked out for me. That’s why it’s impossible to stay angry at him. Although, I have tried very hard these past two weeks,’ she says wryly.
‘He told me that part too.’
‘He must like you. Willem isn’t open with many people.’
He must like you.
It’s an innocuous statement considering the heftier topics we’ve covered, but Adriana’s words zip through me like the silver ball pinging around a pinball machine. I can almost hear the bells chime as long-dormant parts of me light up, exhilarated.
Gah! What am I, a schoolgirl with a crush? I may not be able to control how it feels being around Willem, but I can control my actions. From now on, no more perving on the fit brother.
‘So,’ I say brightly, changing the subject, ‘now that we’re both in the know – and are willing to admit it to ourselves – how do we proceed?’ This is my wheelhouse – strategising and executing a plan.
Adriana groans, her head tipped back. ‘I suppose we need to confront him. Together would be best – and soon. Dinner with my parents is meant to be next Wednesday.’
I hadn’t planned on staying past Sunday and I have no idea when Jon is due to arrive in Amsterdam, but I suppose I could stay a little longer. Mina has already given me Monday off. She might be amenable to extending my personal leave another day or two.
‘ Unless …’ says Adriana, and from her tone, I can tell something big is coming.
‘Unless?’ I ask hesitantly.
She sits bolt upright, clearly struck by inspiration. ‘What if we got back at him?’ she asks, more animated than I’ve seen her all morning.
‘You mean revenge ?’
I should have anticipated this, but foolishly, I hadn’t thought beyond proving to Adriana that I existed.
‘Yes!’ She edges closer, her eyes alight with excitement. ‘You and I join together and we…’ She flaps her hands like she’s trying to conjure the solution from thin air. ‘You know…’
‘Actually, I do,’ I say, angling my body towards her.
After my discussion with Poppy, I accepted that revenge was off the table, that justice would prevail simply by doing right by Adriana. But now…
‘In fact, I had the same idea,’ I add.
Her eyes bore into mine. ‘You did?’
‘Yep, and there may be someone who can help us. If we can convince her to change her mind. But it is a long shot.’
Ignoring the ‘long shot’ part, Adriana grins, bouncing excitedly. And right as I’m about to explain who Poppy is, the front door opens and in walk Willem and Margot.
* * *
‘That’s not a good idea,’ Willem says firmly. This must be his I’m-the-big-brother-and-what-I-say-goes tone. I’m not mad at it.
‘ Will ,’ says Adriana. ‘Listen to?—’
‘I have listened and it’s too…’ The right word seems to elude him. ‘Just break off the engagement, then never see him again.’
Adriana switches to Dutch and as I only understand the basics, all I have to go on is her imploring tone. But no matter what she’s saying, it’s clear Willem isn’t going to waver.
This is a shame, because if I can’t change Poppy’s mind about exacting revenge on Jon, Willem is my backup plan. He seems like the sort of bloke with the skills – and the connections – to do some serious damage to Jon’s life. But that vigorous head shake says it all. Hmm, maybe Poppy is my backup plan.
I look over at Margot, who is listening intently to the siblings, even though she knows about as much Dutch as I do. When I catch her eye, she mouths, ‘What the eff?’
‘Right?’ I mouth back.
If anyone had told me when I woke up this morning how this day would go, I would have laughed out loud. There have been so many surprises, including my new alliance with Adriana, that I’m practically dizzy.
Adriana throws her arms out wide. ‘Then he just gets away with it. What’s his punishment?!’
‘His punishment is losing you!’ Willem exclaims. He turns, pinning me with an intense look. ‘ Both of you.’
It takes me a moment to comprehend the meaning behind Willem’s words. I’m little more than a stranger to him, yet he believes I’m worthy of more – more than Jon and his lies.
Willem expels an exasperated sigh and hooks his hands behind his neck again, a gesture that has more power over me – and my libido – than I’d like, especially as I just made a pact with myself to stop perving on him.
‘So, you won’t help us?’ Adriana asks him.
It’s unlikely a yes is coming, but I hold my breath in anticipation regardless.
‘No,’ he says, and I slowly exhale. Poppy it is, then , I think. ‘I cannot support something that might end up backfiring – what if you end up in trouble, Ady, or in danger?’
‘Dang— We’re not having him eliminated , Will. It’s not like we’re planning on hiring a hitman or anything.’
‘ No ,’ I concur, jumping into the conversation. ‘Nothing like that. Just some run-of-the-mill, make-his-life-miserable revenge, that’s all.’
Willem’s expression softens a fraction, and is that the hint of a smile I see?
‘That’s all ?’
‘Yeah, like “accidentally” rolling his car into the Thames,’ Margot pipes in, making the air quotes.
‘That’s illegal ,’ Willem says, pointing at her, ‘and exactly why I’m not getting involved.’
‘Well, not that then,’ says Adriana. ‘But, Will, if we don’t do something – if Kate and I simply end our engagements – what’s to stop Jon from moving onto the next victim?’
‘Or victims ,’ Margot chimes in.
Willem seems to consider this point, but from the way his arms are folded tightly across his chest (making his biceps bulge even more, damn him), he remains unconvinced.
‘What about something like tricking him into donating a large sum to charity?’ I ask, the idea randomly popping into my head. The room falls silent, and the four of us exchange glances, the weight of shared contemplation permeating the air.
‘How would that work?’ asks Adriana eventually.
‘I have no idea,’ I reply honestly. ‘I support several charities, but I’ve never discussed them with Jon. What about you?’
She coughs out a derisive laugh. ‘I asked Jon to contribute to a fundraiser at my school – for the performing arts program – and he refused.’
‘He flat out refused?’
She nods.
‘Did he give a reason?’
‘Oh, yes. He said the arts are a waste of time and children should focus on the three Rs – reading, writing and arithmetic.’
‘The three— What ?’ I ask, appalled. ‘Has he travelled here from the nineteenth century in a time machine?’
‘He also said the Netherlands is a wealthy country and that government funding should cover the costs.’
I blink at her. ‘That’s horrible.’
‘Yes. One of the many signs I ignored.’
‘Red flags we call them in England,’ I say.
‘Yes, here too – rode vlaggen .’
‘Arseholes must be universal,’ Margot concludes, and Adriana and I nod our agreement. Margot turns to Willem. ‘You’ve been awfully quiet since Kate’s suggestion. What do you think?’
‘It’s clever. It could work. But I haven’t changed my mind; I’m still not comfortable helping you. There’s too much that can go wrong.’
‘Argh – Will !’ Adriana cries.
‘It’s okay, we might not need your help,’ I tell him, slightly smug.
Surely this idea is enough to make Poppy change her mind.