31. JACK
31
JACK
I halt when Elly closes the door, a dark sense of doom spreading through me. This is so fucked up, and I have no idea how to put it right.
I spin back to my mother, who is still standing on the garden path, handbag clutched in front of her, wearing a twinset and pearls as though she’s on her way to church, rather than to destroy my life.
“Why are you here?” I yell. “What possible reason could you have for showing up here and saying things that are so fucking cruel?”
Mum pulls back a fraction. “I’m protecting you. I’ve seen plenty of women like that girl in my life.” She flaps a hand dismissively towards my front door. “I’ve been around long enough to know the type. Using their bodies and their pretty faces to catch a man. You might think you like her now, but it’s a temporary madness. A hormonal melee.”
I drag my hands down my face and let out a frustrated roar. “You need to leave. Right now.”
“But darling, I only have your best interests at heart. She’s not right for you. This is exactly why I made that list of potential wives. So that you wouldn’t find yourself in—”
I hold up a palm. “I’m not having this conversation. What I do and who I see is none of your business. It hasn’t been for a long time.”
She folds her arms over her chest. “Well, yes. I would have thought that too, but if you will be having sex at your father’s memorial event, or out here where anyone could see, then I’m forced to make it mine. You’re quite clearly losing your head. You need someone to help you see that. Your behaviour is completely unacceptable, and if I can’t set you straight as your mother, no one else will. No one cares about you the way I care, darling.”
I step right up to her, looking down my nose. She doesn’t even flinch at the way I’m crowding her. “Go home,” I grit out. “You’ve made your point. Get off my property before I physically force you off. And I really don’t want to have to do that.”
Mum huffs. “You could have had Lydia Archer, and you chose this.” She bats the back of her hand towards my front door again. “When you come to your senses, I’ll be waiting.” Her mouth puckers like an arsehole as she glares at me, but I don’t give her an inch. She can fuck off right to hell for all I care.
She turns and lets herself out of the gate, and when she’s out of sight I rush to the front door and try the handle.
Locked .
“El? Open the door. Let me in.”
I press my ear to the wood, but hear nothing. I slam my hand against the door, making my palm sting. “You there? Come on, El. Please.”
“Did you say that stuff about me?” Her voice is small.
The answer swells my throat, as though I’m allergic to it. “Not all of it.” The silence that follows is like a vacuum, sucking out my insides. Fuck . “I’m sorry. It was before I knew you. Before we—”
“Go away.”
I feel my heartbeat, anxious and rapid, in every cell in my body. “Can you open the door?”
The silence is broken only by the sound of Elly crying.
“Please, El. I’m so sorry. I don’t think any of that stuff about you now. I think you’re wonderful.”
“Why didn’t you say so? Why didn’t you…” She fades out, sounding like she’s choking on her words. Why didn’t I what? My mind can’t process shit right now.
“Please, let me in. This is what Mum wants. She’s trying to drive us apart. Who cares what she thinks? I don’t—”
“Don’t what? Think any less of me? Because I’m a slut? A whore? A useless waitress who can’t pay her rent? Fucking say it, Jack.”
“Don’t try and put words in my mouth. I don’t think that. You’re not.” I sigh and lean against the wood. “I love the way you are. I fucking love it. I love everything about you. I love your voice and your music and your songs. I love the way you sing. The way you laugh. I love your eyes, and your hair, and that fucking nose piercing. And I love that you spread yourself on that fucking piano and let me take those photos. I love that you writhed on my lap and made yourself come. I love that you got on your knees in the kitchen and took me down your throat. Don’t make it wrong. Don’t let what my mother said make it wrong. It’s not.”
“She thinks I’m a gold digger. A slut.”
“I don’t give a shit what my mother thinks, and neither should you.” I hang my head, fisting my hands so hard they hurt. “El… please, you’re my slut, and I fucking love you for it.”
A crushing pain grips my entire chest as the words leave my mouth, but it’s the silence from the other side of the door that breaks me.
Nothing. She has nothing to say to me.
“Let me in,” I murmur.
“Not tonight,” she replies.
I hold my breath, and the pump of my blood whooshes through me so hard I can feel it in my fingertips. The wrenching sound of Elly’s sobbing ekes through the door… she’s breaking her heart just inches away from me, and I can’t make it better. I can’t fix it. I want to scoop her up in my arms and take away her pain. I want it so much that my body aches with it.
“Damn it, Elly. Open the door.” The words grate against the inside of my throat, leaving it raw.
She doesn’t respond, and I hear her move away, her footsteps fading as she retreats deeper into the house. I stay there, sitting on the top step outside the house for far too long, waiting for her to change her mind. I stay there so long that the cold numbs my fingers and toes.
I send message after message
Me: Sorry, sorry, sorry.
Me: What can I do to make it up to you?
Me: What do you need?
Me: Please, El. Let me inside. We can talk about this.
I lose count of how many times I say I’m sorry, but all my messages remain unread.
And then, after Elly’s bedroom light goes on, and finally switches off again, signalling she’s going to sleep, I send Kate a message.
Me: Can I crash at yours tonight?
The typing dots appear and disappear, but when she finally responds all it says is, Of course.
Kate stares at me over the breakfast table in Nico’s flat. “Mum turned up to save your soul, right?”
I let out a sigh that sounds like a groan. I don’t want to have this conversation at all. “Yes. In all her glory, scratching her claws like a tiger.”
Kate presses her lips together, and I know she’s trying to contain the urge to say, ‘ I told you so’.
Nico strides into the room. He’s sharply dressed for work, whereas I’m completely dishevelled. I hardly slept. He hands me a fresh suit, shirt, and tie. “You’ll be too broad for it, but it’ll do for a day.”
“Assuming she lets him back in,” Kate says.
Nico chuckles, but I can hear the disapproval in it. “I’m going in early. You two take your time.” He drains the rest of his tea, then gives Kate a peck on the lips before letting himself out.
When he’s gone, Kate resumes her aggressive death stare.
“What?” I snap.
“You’re crap at this relationship stuff.”
I roll my eyes. I’m not going to let her lay into me about this, because I already know I’m shit at it. I don’t need reminding. “I’ve never done this before.”
Kate sighs. “Well, first—”
My phone rings. It’s the bank. I signal to Kate to be quiet and answer it.
“Mr Lansen?” comes the voice on the other end.
“Speaking.”
“There’s been some unusual activity on your account. There’s a large transaction pending, and I need your authorisation to clear it.”
Low-level panic sets in. I’m not buying anything right now. Jesus . Fraud is not something I have time for. The hassle is a royal pain in the arse.
“It’s your black card,” the voice says.
I jerk upright in my chair, causing Kate to frown, gesturing at me with her hands and mouthing, “ What? ”, as though it’s crucial to her existence that she knows what’s going on too.
The black card is the one I gave to Elly. The one I forced on her when she ripped up the cheque. The one I slid into her bra when she won the game. Is she using it now, or has she lost it? Has it been stolen? Wouldn’t she have mentioned that?
“What’s the transaction?” I ask.
The speaker clears his throat. “A car.”
“A car?” I blurt, and Kate looks at me in alarm. “What kind of car?”
“The card is being used at the Lamborghini showroom in South Kensington.”
I let the words beat around my skull for a moment, as if that might help me make sense of them. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Erm, no, sir. This is not a joke. Do I need to cancel the transaction?”
Kate is leaning right across the table, trying to hear what’s happening.
I stand and cover the handset, then hiss at Kate. “Call Elly. Now.” Kate doesn’t move, so I repeat, angrily this time, “Now. Get her to tell you where she is, right fucking now. I think she’s trying to use my credit card.” Kate frowns, then looks alarmed for about half a second before she grins.
I shoo her away, aggressively mouthing, ‘Now,’ at which she dashes for her phone as though I’ve stung her with a cattle prod.
She swipes on the phone and puts it to her ear. The buzz of a ring sounds a few times before the line goes dead. Kate curses under her breath and tries again. She has to do it twice more before Elly’s small and tinny voice says, ‘Hello?’
Kate makes eyes at me and then walks away to the window, and proceeds to talk to Elly where I can’t eavesdrop. I tug on my bottom lip as I wait, my mouth drying up.
“Sir? Are you still there?” says the voice at the end of my phone. I’d forgotten he was still on the line. “What do you want me to do about this transaction?”
“Leave it pending. I need to check something. I’ll call you back.”
“So I’m not authorising this purchase, sir?”
Fuck . “Not yet.”
I hang up the call and wait for Kate to get off the phone. It feels like she’s taking ages, so I start getting dressed in the suit Nico left for me, shoving my arms through the sleeves of the shirt, pulling on the trousers.
It’s tight, but it’ll have to do.
Kate hangs up and paces towards me. “Elly’s angry and humiliated. She doesn’t want to see you.”
“Fuck that. Where is she?” I bark out.
Kate sighs, and I get the sense she never intended to keep this information from me. “South Kensington. In the Lamborghini show room.”
I leave the flat so fast, I can’t even make out what Kate is yelling after me.