Chapter 41
NOW
‘Right.’ Brad seemed to have taken up the position as chair of the impromptu meeting they seemed to be having at the kitchen table.
They were seated around, each with a steaming mug in front of them, Odette and Brad on one side, Henri and Bella on the other.
‘What do we need to do to make this right?’
When Bella had arrived home an hour ago, breathless and tearful, she’d wanted to dash straight to her room. But Brad had been in the hallway, guitar-case in hand, and seen her face straightaway.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing, just—’ But she hadn’t been able to hold it together. The minute she’d started sobbing, he’d stepped forward, wrapped his arms around her. Let her cry messily into his white shirt.
Now, he’d taken charge, was heading some sort of meeting. So sure, so confident that he could fix things.
Bella shook her head. ‘We can’t.’
‘We could try?’
‘The paintwork is ruined, the curtains are burnt. The artwork – God, expensive original artwork – is totally destroyed. The furniture is soaked, or singed, or covered in foam.’ Bella’s voice started to break. ‘There’s no money and no time.’
‘But we can try?’ Brad said simply. ‘You can’t let being afraid get in the way. You know. If we fix it, you could stay. Things could— it could be cool.’
Bella felt her hands ball into fists. ‘First of all, nobody says cool any more!’ she said, wondering why she’d started with that.
‘And you can talk! About being afraid!’ She turned to Odette.
‘Did you know that he’s been scared to play guitar in public, or even in front of friends, for twenty years?
And he’s brilliant. I heard him a couple of times when he thought I was out. ’
Brad’s cheeks flushed and she felt a tiny niggle of guilt. But not enough to stop.
She turned back to Odette. ‘And Odette, you are a brilliant artist. I mean life-changingly, staggeringly brilliant. And you’re keeping all your paintings – which you could probably sell for hundreds or thousands even – in your room because you’re too afraid to make a phone call and face the possibility of being rejected. ’
Odette’s face fell, crumpled.
Bella paused for breath, her heart thundering, then her eyes fell on Henri, who was clutching his coffee with both hands. ‘And YOU—’ she said.
‘Me?’ Henri looked affronted.
‘Not telling your dad you don’t want in on his business!
He’s setting all his hopes on you and yes, maybe he’s a bit pushy.
But he has the right to know the truth. At least you have a father who wants to be in your life.
’ She stood up abruptly, her heart hammering.
‘So don’t accuse me of being scared,’ she finished, her voice a little wobbly now.
‘Because we’re all scared. All of us. And sometimes,’ she looked at Brad, his pen still hovering over the notebook, ‘we can’t fix things.
For God’s sake. I don’t know why I even sat down with all of you.
You’re the last people I should be taking advice from. ’
Seeing them all look at her, affronted, hurt, annoyed, upset, was too much. She turned and ran from the room to her bedroom and slammed the door, leaning against it as the tears came.