Chapter 37 #2
“Are you sure you’re talking about Jude and not Nigel?
” Louise tries to clarify, looking from me to Ollie.
“Why would you say that to him? Fair enough it started out that he wanted the building, but let’s be right, he’s helped you loads.
Especially in Germany,” she reminds me. “I think you're way off base here. You’ve got it wrong.” Louise is hard hitting and straight talking as ever.
I lose my cool, tears that are all too near the surface springing to my eyes.
“Lindy posted those photographs as she wants Jude back. Nigel, because of the adverse publicity, is going for full custody. I can’t cope with yet more threats of court.
It’s bad enough with the work stuff. Nigel will back off if Jude is not in the picture.
So will Lindy.” I’m shouting now, and everyone is shocked.
I never shout. But I need to let out the steam, the pressure cooker of emotions boiling inside me.
“I need some breathing space. Jude wants to get married. For us all to be a family. Look after us all. Can you imagine what Nigel will be like? I can't, I just can’t.”
I step off the stool and stride out of the room, heading into my study and shutting the door. Locking it behind me, I lay on the settee and again start to cry.
If this is the right thing to do, why do I feel so bad?
Jude’s face pops into my mind. Soulful brown eyes, so gentle when he gazes at me. The blue-green flecks highlighted in the sunshine. A smile so wide, so loving.
I continue to sob until my eyes swell nearly shut. They’ve had enough of the tears themselves, they want the tap turned off. I don’t think I’m going to be any use to anyone.
When I emerge from my study, it’s nearly lunchtime.
Louise is sitting in the kitchen, tapping on her laptop.
“Ollie’s gone to his girlfriend’s. Your mum and dad have taken Nat and Noah out.
The paps are still hanging around, and there are more pictures of you on the internet in different outfits.
Someone is fueling the ‘lunch dates,’ you lucky cow.
No pics of the actual deeds. I would look though, just so you know.
” She smirks at that. “Just you changing your outfits.”
I slump back onto the stool. “Who the hell is interested in that?”
“Get a grip. Everyone.” She starts to laugh. “Some good comments for you. Everyone is jealous of you having the energy to have so much sex at nearly forty. Lots of cheerleading. And a few interesting questions.”
She waggles her eyebrows at me, and I roll my eyes. I really don’t want to know.
“Coffee and Baileys. I’m fed up of tea,” she states and goes to the machine and pops in a capsule. She spins around, and turns her beady eyes on me. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I shake my head. “I can't. I'll start to cry again, and I’m sick of tears. I just want to try and work. See what we can salvage. Although with just four of us, I have to question if it’s worth it.”
She deliberately ignores my comment. “You haven’t told your family about the issues at work have you?” She keeps her eyes on me, her stare intense.
I shake my head again. “I couldn’t. The kids are too young. And let’s be right, Nigel is their dad. I don’t want to tarnish that.”
She huffs. “He doesn’t give the same shit as you.
He’s happy to slag you off on the internet.
For that to go viral. Why should you be his fucking PR parent company?
He’s not interested, only when it suits him.
I just don’t get why you are defending him.
It’s weird, Emma. He doesn’t deserve your kindness.
He shouts and bawls. He’s threatening court at work, and now has started on custody of the kids? It’s time to stop being the nice guy.”
“I know. I just—” The doorbell goes, and I don’t need a mirror to know I look terrified.
“I’ll go.” Louise interlocks her fingers and snaps her joints. As if getting ready for serious action.
“Whoa, whoa. You can’t just barge in,” I hear her shout
Nigel storms into the kitchen, Louise right on his heels.
“Get out, or I’m calling the police.” I point back to the way he’s just come in.
“Where are my kids? If you’ve sent them to fucking London with him, I’ll file for a court order to stop them being removed.”
“Removed from where? St. Albans to London. You are talking rot. If I go to London, my kids will go with me as I have full custody of them. We have no consent orders, Nigel. Now get out of my house.” My voice is commanding, but I also hear the slight wobble in it.
“It’s my fucking house. You didn’t even want to buy it.
Pay me my equity share and I’ll leave you alone.
If not, I’m going for full custody and looking to redo the divorce order.
I’ve had advice from a few clever lawyers and your ten million pound building might be half mine as well.
Deliberate deprivation of assets is a crime, you know.
” His eyes are on me, gauging my reaction.
“So is parental alienation. And you seem to be trying that. Bad mouthing me to a global audience with the intent of making me look bad and causing issues with the kids.” I point at him.
“I’ve done nothing other than try and be nice.
I’ve even had your fucking son at my house, because he is my sons’ half brother. So you need to stop, and now.”
He sneers at me. “You are so fucking soft. No wonder everyone tramples all over you. Me, Jude. He went out with Lindy last night. Did you know? It’s all over the gossip sites.
Didn’t take him long to make a decision and move on.
To be fair, there’s not much competition.
” He looks me up and down, waving his hands as if he’s balancing scales.
He obviously likes the reaction he got on the internet for that little slight.
He pulls a condescending face at me, and it makes my skin crawl.
“Get out of my house.” I’m shouting at him, but he’s not listening.
My phone lights up on the work surface next to me. Jude. I grab the phone and answer, unable to hide how out of breath I sound.
“Probably calling to give you the official brush off now he’s back with a celebrity,” Nigel gloats.
I ignore him. “Jude, Hi.”
“Are you okay? You sound out of breath. Nobody’s hassling you, are they?” He sounds genuinely concerned, and tears spring instantly to my eyes.
Nigel, who is stood sneering at me, makes a grab for the phone. “Tell him to fuck off and fuck Lindy. Leave you alone.” He’s grabbing at my elbow to take the phone from me. As if he is going to speak to Jude.
“Nigel, stop grabbing at me,” I shout at the imbecile standing in my kitchen.
We get into a bit of a scuffle and he grabs the phone. “Stay the fuck away from my kids, my house, and my wife,” he screams into the phone.
I can’t hear what Jude is saying, as I’m trying to wrestle the phone from Nigel. Louise comes to my rescue, stamping on his toes and giving his shins a good wallop.
“Fucking bitch,” he screams, at both of us I assume, as I breathlessly take the phone from him and storm into my study and lock the door behind me.
“Sorry, Jude. He just turned up and we were trying to get rid of him,” I blurt out to the silence on the other end of the phone.
“Why is he touching you? Why does he think he can come over whenever he wants? Yet I get fucking evicted.” He doesn’t say anything else.
I’m stuttering and stammering, not sure what to say.
“So you’re his wife again, are you? His kids and his house.
Seems like not a lot has changed in his world.
But it seems to have changed in mine in twenty four hours.
” His voice is low, dead. Hardly recognisable.
“No, Jude, no. I was trying to—”
“I never minded playing second fiddle to the kids,” he interrupts, as if I hadn’t spoken at all.
“I expected that. I never even minded waiting in line behind your parents. But if you think I am waiting behind fucking Nigel for your attentions. Your fucking equity share in your marital home, your work and that fucking building. You’ve got me all wrong, Emma.
” I can’t breathe, I can’t get any words out to reassure him.
“I deserve to be loved. I deserve to be put first. Just like I would do for you. So tell me now. And I’ll keep it real simple for you.
Do you want me? Are we getting married? Yes or no. ”
He goes silent, awaiting my answer.
Oh fucking Holy Christ, he is not asking me to make a decision now. Surely he can tell I am not in a good place. My brain is not functioning. But I want to be with him. I just need time to sort out my business and stop my ex from stealing my kids.
“Jude, please, I just need—”
He huffs a laugh, and to be honest it sounds desperate. Low and so fucking sad. “Guess I just got my answer.”
This time the silence sounds different. And I know why, but I don’t want to accept it.
“Jude. Jude. Juuuuuddde.”
I pull the phone away from my ear to look at the display. It’s showing the boys and the date and time. He’s gone. Gone. Hung up.
I call him back, but it goes to voicemail. It doesn’t even ring out.
“He’s gone,” I whisper. “Why did I not just tell him yes. Yes. YES.”
I hear a shout. Nigel is still here, but now more voices are filling the kitchen. Mum and Dad are back with the boys. I storm out, my sanity shredded.
“Boys, get in the car.” Nigel is shouting and pulling at Nathan. Cal has appeared from somewhere and is holding Nat’s hand. They both looked shell-shocked. “Noah, do as you are told and get in the car.”
Noah takes a step towards his dad, who thinks he’s going to go do as he’s told. But he doesn’t. He grabs Nathan and, in the blink of an eye, he’s dragged him next to my dad.