CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Later that evening, Tom took her to a seafood restaurant.
She walked precariously along the central London cobblestones in her heels and backless white dress, while he waited outside the front entrance.
‘Young lady,’ he called, in an already rather affectionate voice. ‘This is a messy dive. You look far too elegant and glamourous.’
She grinned as she reached him, grasping his outstretched hands. ‘They do bibs, don’t they?’
‘Those are only for serious eaters.’
‘Your Majesty, I am an extremely serious eater. The most serious. I’m going to eat you under the table and then bury you in a casket made of oysters.’
‘Lovely.’
‘With a caviar garnish.’
‘No caviar here, angel.’
‘Cool,’ Raina said, squaring up to him with jovial challenge. ‘Why are you still talking? You nervous?’
‘Not nervous, gorgeous. Just giving you a chance to back out.’
Raina answered that by pushing the swinging door of the restaurant open and entering the loud, pulsing atmosphere. She inwardly winced but didn’t let Tom see.
‘Table for two under Branimir,’ Tom said to the waiter at the podium.
They were led to a booth in the back, which Raina was pleased about. Once seated across from one another, Raina slapped both palms on the wooden table.
‘Sure you want to do this?’
Tom leaned forward until their noses were almost touching. ‘A thousand per cent.’
Another waiter appeared, bringing with him a jug of water. ‘Can I get you started with some drinks?’
‘Yes, and we’re ready to order,’ Raina said, never looking away from Tom. ‘The ultimate seafood platter, please.’
The waiter made a face. ‘That’s for a group.’
‘We know,’ Tom said, also not looking away. ‘What the lady said.’
The waiter rolled his eyes. ‘Fine. Drinks?’
‘Just this water,’ Raina said, while Tom ordered a beer.
Tom’s phone buzzed once they were alone. He checked it, a little reluctantly. ‘Oh.’
‘What is it?’ Raina asked, sipping her water.
‘Seb and Ottie. They’re having a boat party, leaving from Blackfriars pier later tonight.’
‘You going?’
‘We could go together.’
Raina laughed. ‘Not sure they want me on their boat, skipper.’
‘Well, I do.’
‘Stop distracting me. I need to prepare for this platter.’
She could hear him laughing while she unpacked her little plastic bib. She tied it happily around her neck, before smoothing it down and tossing her hair back.
‘Where are my shell crackers?’ she demanded, searching the little wooden cutlery box. ‘I need proper equipment.’
‘You know, if this is all a show to intimidate me, it’s sort of working.’
‘Aha!’ Raina brandished her cracking utensil at Tom. ‘Got it.’
Tom put his own bib on and picked up some claw crackers for himself. Raina could feel his delight and it was like an aphrodisiac. Two months ago, she would have thought this slightly dour Scot incapable of having fun, but now here they were, about to have a seafood eating contest.
‘No shame in backing down and ordering some nice coleslaw,’ he said self-importantly when the platter arrived. ‘No shame at all.’
Raina acknowledged this remark by fiercely cracking open a crab claw.
‘Need me to do yours for you?’ she asked nonchalantly. ‘I’m good at handling meat . . .’
‘No.’ He scooped up some mussels and clams for his small plate. ‘Thank you. I know what comes of your handling. I’ll end up a panting mess on the floor.’
They ate in competitive silence, eyeing each other up as they went. He grabbed the scallops. She the prawns. They both reached for one of the oysters at the same time. Tom lifted it from its icy bed and held it out towards Raina.
‘You know what they say about these?’
Raina took it from him and downed it smoothly, placing the empty grey shell back on the platter. ‘Yes. They make you want to fuck.’
Tom sat back. Then he ate his own oyster. ‘How’re you feeling, Raina?’
Her face was lit up with impish pride. ‘I’m feeling really good, Tom. How are you feeling?’
‘Feel like I want to get you home.’
‘Those are the charming words of a quitter, Branimir. No, no. You will not distract me from your impending loss by trying to seduce me.’
The waiter passed by their table and laughed. ‘I don’t know how a woman can eat like you and keep that figure!’
Tom scowled and Raina’s radiant smile deflated, just a little, even though it was a compliment. When the waiter was gone, she said, ‘Well. If my mother were here, she would have something to say.’
She could feel him weighing up in his mind whether or not to ask a follow-up question after that slightly sudden overshare and change of vibe. ‘Your sister mentioned something like that.’
Raina stiffened. ‘Solana did?’
‘Yeah.’
‘What did she say?’
Raina didn’t need him to answer; she already knew. Solana was constantly indignant about their mother’s obsessive fixation on their appearances. She’d always received an easier ride from Meggie and made up for it by doubling down on her loyalty to Raina.
‘Well,’ Raina said before Tom could reveal whatever it was he’d heard, ‘I love food. I like walking. I’m great with stairs. Pepper brings me with her to an extremely intense spin class. My doctor is brutally honest but she says I’m good.’
‘I’m trying not to say inappropriate things about the way you look.’
That made her laugh. ‘Yeah, well. If I win these two awards or hit two million subscribers or get a television show, it doesn’t matter.
It doesn’t matter that I get the most beautiful letters from women telling me that the show has helped them through all sorts of trauma.
It doesn’t matter that I’m asked to speak in schools.
That I get to try and empower young neurodivergent girls in a way I never was.
It doesn’t matter that I cobbled together a life everyone told me could never be.
None of that matters to her. The only thing she cares about is me looking thin in family photographs.
It’s like a sickness. She only sees that.
Like I said, I’m healthy. I make sure to be.
But aesthetically, I’m all wrong to her.
Sometimes I think she likes skinny women because she associates thinness with obedience. ’
Raina was surprised. She always got so emotional about this subject. It was usually enough to trigger a few tremors and shakes. Now, as she sat in front of the man she was sleeping with and a generous plate of seafood, she was resigned. Very detached.
‘The definition of madness is doing the same thing over and over while expecting different results,’ she concluded quietly.
‘When I was at my thinnest – starving, basically. Playing clever games with food to make it look like I was eating, letting autistic masking become this complete and utter rejection of food – she came very close to being proud of me.’
Tom made a noise of disgust. Raina shrugged.
‘I was pretending so hard to be neurotypical. Hiding every natural feeling, suppressing every urge. Made myself so ill. And it’s the only time I remember her giving me a compliment.
You know, that’s the saddest thing of all.
Only being loved when you know, deep down, you’re at your most hidden.
Your most dishonest. They just love the lie.
The pretending. That’s what really kills, you know?
This weird illusion you’ve constructed .
. . some people prefer it. And it’s hard to come back from that. ’
She took a long drink of water, keeping her eyes lowered.
‘You’re not writing anything on me any more, right?’ she asked softly, moving some empty shells around with her fork. ‘This is all off the record?’
He opened his mouth but they were interrupted by the waiter.
‘Wow,’ he said, reluctantly impressed. ‘You did it.’
Tom gestured to Raina with a proud smile. ‘She’s quite something. Superior to me in every way.’
Raina crumpled up her plastic bib and lobbed it at him, making everyone laugh. The oyster shells were cleared away while Raina felt like she was coming out of her own a little more.
‘We don’t actually have to go,’ Tom told Raina as they walked arm-in-arm along the river embankment towards the pier by the Tate Britain.
Seb and Ottie’s boat had departed from Blackfriars and was headed west. They’d demanded Tom join them but he would much rather head home with Raina.
By home, he realized, he meant her house in Barnes. Or maybe just her.
He wasn’t entirely sure when that distinction had become fact.
‘Look, that’s it there,’ Raina said, pointing at the bow of a riverboat, heading towards them. ‘It looks fun.’
Tom noticed her shoulders were jutted forward and she was crossing her arms. Despite it being late May, the air by the water was cold. Tom watched as the boat began to dock. He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over Raina’s shoulders.
‘Sorry, am I too indecent?’ she asked jovially, pulling at her dress to make sure her breasts were tastefully concealed.
‘No, you look perfect. I just don’t want you cold.’
Her face was unreadable. Possible surprise. He hadn’t time to find out, as the gangplank was dropped and they were ushered aboard by the boat’s captain.
‘Tommy!’ Seb yelled from the upper level of the boat. He was dressed like a sailor and had clearly been on the rum. Tom gave a small wave before turning to make sure Raina was all right. She was already pressed up against the starboard side, looking perfectly at home.
‘You’re here!’ Ottie appeared before Seb did. She kissed Tom on both cheeks and ignored Raina with a deliberateness that irritated Tom. He pulled Raina to his side and relaxed by a margin as she slid an arm around his waist. Ottie’s eyes followed the action and widened at the sight of them both.
‘Are you . . .?’ She glanced between Tom and Raina. ‘What . . .?’
‘Yes,’ Tom said. Factual and firm.
‘Okay,’ Ottie replied, her voice suddenly small.
‘What are we celebrating?’ Tom asked her, nodding at Seb as he weaved his way through the crowd of people on the deck.
‘You’ll find out at exactly eleven o’clock,’ Ottie said triumphantly.