Chapter Eighteen
LEONI
I swallow the lump in my throat as I tap lightly on the front door. It swings open, and my mum’s eyes widen in surprise. Then she grabs me and pulls me to her, hugging me tightly. “I’ve been going out of my mind,” she cries.
“Sorry, I needed some time away.”
She holds me at arm’s length, looking me up and down. “You’ve lost weight,” she says, her tone concerned.
“So have you,” I counter.
She smiles then leads me inside. “And you have a faint tan.”
“It was a work thing,” I mutter. “I went to take my mind off everything.”
She grabs the kettle, and I sit at the table. “Where?”
“Italy.”
She whips round, smiling. “Wow.”
“Don’t get too excited, I didn’t see any of it.” I sigh. “Barely at all actually.”
“You didn’t have time to explore?”
I shake my head. “My boss is a prick.”
She sits opposite me, reaching for my hands and clasping them tightly in hers. “I’ve been so worried.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry. I’ve had my phone on airplane mode for over a week just trying to clear my head. I saw you messages last night but I was out… drunk.”
She gives a sympathetic smile. “Jordan’s been the same since you left. He regrets what he said.”
I bite my lower lip to stop the tears that threaten to fall. “It was true though, wasn’t it. I should have stayed with him. Or called for help.” A sob slips out, and I slap a hand over my mouth. “He was so adamant he was okay. He said it was sorted and told me not to nag.”
“Leoni, it wasn’t your fault. And we don’t blame you.
He shouldn’t have turned up at your place.
He should have come home. It’s my fault he didn’t and my fault he was out there trying to hustle like his damn father.
I spent so much time complaining about money and bills, he must have felt the pressure.
And he felt like he couldn’t come here.”
I clasp her hand tighter. “He didn’t want you to worry.”
“You’re a good sister and a good daughter, don’t ever doubt that. And I’m sorry for losing it over your dad. That man just unsettles me, but you’re right, that’s between us.”
Shame washes over me. “I didn’t go because I wanted to make up with him, Mum. I went to get his help.” She frowns. “I thought he could find out who’d been arrested and if they’d really done it.”
She cups my face, “Darling girl, why would you think he could help?”
I shrug, “He wasn’t squeaky clean was he. I thought maybe he’d ask around.”
“No, he was a scum bag, running around for bigger scum bags. He doesn’t have those connections, Leoni. He severed them when he did what he did.” I stare blankly, and she sighs heavily. “He turned informant for the police. No one would help him even if they could.”
“Are we in danger?” I ask, my voice trembling.
She smiles. “No, it’s been years. If anyone was coming, they’d have come by now. Besides, it’s him they’d go for.”
I nod, relaxing. “Who was it? The people he worked for?”
She shrugs, getting up to grab two mugs. “I can’t remember now, Lee. It was years ago.”
The door opens, and Jordan walks in. The second he sees me, he comes over and gives me a half-hug in the way teenagers do when they’re really happy but don’t want it to show. He rests his head against my shoulder. “Sorry,” he mutters, barely above a whisper.
I smile, rubbing a hand up and down his back. “Sorry I left,” I reply. “It won’t happen again.”
He pulls back and lets out a breath, “Are you making a cup of tea, Ma?” he asks.
She laughs, “Yeah, Jord. It’s all I ever seem to do.”
He sits down. “Did Mum tell you they charged him?”
“I saw the text,” I say with a nod. “That’s good news, right?”
He nods. “And we can have the funeral now.”
I sigh with relief. “I think we need it.”
“They can do it as soon as Friday,” Mum adds, glancing to gauge our reaction.
When neither of us speaks, she continues.
“And I think it’s best we do it sooner rather than later.
Whilst it’s hanging over us, we can’t move forward, and Isaac wouldn’t want us fussing.
This is the next step. And then all we have to do is get through the trial. ”
“If there is one,” Jordan cuts in. “If he pleads guilty, won’t he just be sentenced?”
I nod, but it doesn’t feel like closure when I picture it. Maybe a trial is what we need so we can hear the details. So we can understand and make sense of it all.
Friday comes too quickly.
There isn’t enough time to brace myself, not enough time to process that this is really happening.
The funeral is arranged too fast, and my father doesn’t get permission to attend.
Being back in segregation doesn’t help, but I think Mum wanted it this way.
Quick. Clean. Before he could make arrangements to be there.
We keep it small. Close family only. Apart from Courtney, who grips my hand so tightly, as if she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she lets go.
The chapel smells faintly of polish and of flowers already wilting. The words blur together, hymns, prayers, murmured condolences, until they all sound the same. Empty. Inadequate.
Because none of them know Isaac like I did.
They don’t know the way he laughed loudly, or how he used to steal food off my plate just to annoy me. They don’t know the stupid arguments or the way he looked at me that last day, like he was trying to remember my face.
When it’s time, we follow the coffin outside.
The sky is overcast, thick with grey clouds that feel like they’re pressing down on my chest. As they lower Isaac into the ground, something inside me cracks open. I don’t sob. I don’t scream. I just stand there, numb, while the earth swallows him whole.
Mum sobs quietly beside me, her hand gripped tightly in mine. And next to her, Jordan stares blankly into the ground.
I look up as a sleek, dark car sits at the edge of the cemetery. The window is lowered just a fraction. Not enough to see him. Just enough for me to know he’s there.
Warren.
My stomach twists, equal parts anger and something dangerously close to relief.
I wait until the last person drifts away, until the space feels hollow and quiet again. I turn to Courtney. “Can you take Mum and Jordan home?”
She searches my face, hesitation flickering in her eyes, but she nods. “Call me.” I nod, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.
When they’re gone, I walk toward the car.
The window rolls down further. Warren watches me approach, his expression unreadable.
He removes his dark glasses. “I’d ask how you are,” he says quietly, “but I think I already know.”
“I got your text,” I mutter. “I thought my silence was pretty clear.”
“I just wanted to be here for you, Lee.”
“I didn’t tell you the date,” I say. “How did you find out?”
“Get in the car,” he replies gently. “Let’s talk.”
I shake my head. “You always do that. Avoid the question by being bossy.”
“Five minutes,” he says. “That’s all. I’ll have you dropped straight home.”
I hesitate. I shouldn’t do this. I know that. But my chest is too tight, my grief too raw to fight him properly. With a frustrated sigh, I slide into the back seat. Anthony nods politely before raising the partition, sealing us into silence.
Warren turns toward me slowly, his gaze sweeping over my face cataloguing damage, every shadow, every crack that wasn’t there the last time he saw me at four in the morning, a week ago.
“You sorted things with your family,” he says.
“Is this really how you want to waste your five minutes?” I snap.
“What happened in Italy was—”
“A massive fuck-up,” I cut in.
He nods once. “Yes. And I regret it.” His voice softens. “But I miss you, Leoni.” The words knock the breath from my lungs. “It’s not the right time,” he continues quietly. “I know that. So I’ll give you the space you need. But we’re not over.”
“We’re from different worlds,” I whisper.
He shifts closer, closing the distance until his knees brush mine. His hands cup my face, firm but careful, forcing me to look at him.
“No,” he murmurs. “Same world. Different upbringings.”
“You could have anyone,” I say weakly, trying to pull away. “Anyone.”
He doesn’t let me go. “I don’t want anyone but you.” His forehead rests against mine. “I’ve got things to fix. Things to finish. But I’m coming for you, Lee. And when I do, I need you to be ready.”
His mouth meets mine in a slow, grounding kiss, not desperate, not rushed, just steady. Like a promise he has no intention of breaking.
He pulls back first and taps on the glass.
Anthony lowers the partition. “Where to, Leoni?”
“My mum’s,” I say.
The drive is silent.
But Warren keeps my hand in his, his thumb tracing slow, careful circles over my skin, reminding me he’s still here. And maybe, despite everything, that’s what finally makes me cry.
As the car slows outside Mum’s, he pulls me against him, whispering soothing words whilst gently placing kisses on my crown. “It’s all going to be okay.”
I take a breath and pull back, wiping my face with my hands. “Thanks for the ride,” I tell Anthony.
He gets out, ready to open my door.
“I’m not giving up on you, Leoni,” Warren whispers against my lips.
I smile sadly. “Goodbye.”
WARREN
Nancy smiles widely at her father as I open the ring box. The large diamond ring glints under the light of the restaurant, and she clasps her hands together, peering at it like it’s something precious.
“Oh my, it’s gorgeous,” she whispers.
I take it out and slide it on her finger. It’s the least I can do, seeing as I haven’t even bothered to get down on one knee. We’re all very aware this is for convenience, not love.
“I’d like to hold a celebration at the golf club,” Chief Winters offers, shaking my hand.
“That’s kind of you, Harry. We’d be honoured,” my father replies for me.
“Step out on the terrace with me,” Nancy says, pushing to her feet.
I follow, breathing in the fresh air as we stand side by side, looking out over London.
“Italy,” she says, keeping her expression neutral.
“What about it?”
“I wasn’t invited,” she says simply. “It would have been the perfect place to propose.”