41. KATE
41
KATE
A sharp squeal pierces my dreams. My mind struggles to make sense of it before I realise I’m awake, in bed, and the strange noise is the creaking hinges of my bedroom door. I need to oil them. This flat is falling apart. I must tell Jack to sort it out.
Then, right on cue, Nico’s name pops in my mind like corn in the microwave. Memories explode and multiply uncontrollably, each one another wound to my already broken heart. All concern for the rusty door-hinges vanishes.
“It’s Wednesday.” Elly’s voice splices my thoughts.
I creak an eye open to see her moving across the room, picking her way through the scattered clothes. It’s been a few days since I tidied anything away. Tissues lie balled up on the floor, soaked in tears that wouldn’t stop because I’ve lost Nico. I’ll never kiss him again. Touch him. Never be held in his arms. And to think I chose this.
A fresh wave of searing pain hits me and I let out a wail that I quickly muffle by covering my mouth with my hands.
Concern flashes over Elly’s face, but it’s only there for a second before she wipes it away and checks her watch. “11.37 am.”
I groan and pull the duvet over my head just as she rips the curtains open, letting the summer heat disinfect the room.
The old sash windows groan, telling me Elly’s pushing them open. The roar of traffic from the street below blasts in on a warm breeze. Distant drilling and clanging of scaffolding batters my brain.
Elly yanks the duvet down, and bright light bursts against my eyelids.
“Hey!” I try to grab it back, squinting and flapping my hands.
“I never thought I’d say this,” Elly says. “But you need to get back to the office.”
“I can’t.” Even the thought of being in the same building as Nico is too much for my system.
“You can,” she coaxes. “You have to. Your brother called. He said you’ve got stuff to do for the spa project.”
Elly’s had possession of my phone for a few days. She confiscated it from me to eliminate the chances of me sending regrettable messages to Nico in the middle of the night.
“Did anyone else call?” I whisper, not sure if I want to hear her answer.
Elly throws me a compassionate look. “Nico didn’t call. Did you want to hear from him? I thought you broke it off?”
I don’t even know what happened. My memory of being at his flat is all messed up. I smashed that picture… I really let loose. He probably thinks I’m crazy.
“I don’t want to go back to the office. I can’t.”
“Jack said you’d say that.” She holds out the phone to me. “He’s on the line.”
“Eh?” I say in confusion. “The whole time you’ve been in here?”
“Hi Kate.” Jack’s voice echoes on speakerphone.
“You bitch,” I mouth at Elly. “Give it here.”
She shakes her head, holding it up, shooting me a ‘ no chance ’ look. She’s right; I’d hang up right away.
“Get out of bed.” Jack’s voice cracks like a whip. “Get to the office and start preparing the best presentation you’ve ever done. If we don’t want Martin Brooks to take the spa project, then you need to impress the Argentum board. They’re coming in. Show them what you can do. It’s on Friday. 10 am.”
“I don’t care about the spa project. It’s not mine anymore,” I croak.
“Bullshit.”
I hold my breath too long, as though refusing to exhale might make this all go away. “What difference will it make? Martin’s in charge now. He can do what he wants.” My eyes briefly shutter, pain mangling my heart. My spa project.
“Trust me, we have a chance to keep this. A bloody good one.”
“You want me to get up and make a presentation when there’s only a chance I’ll get to keep the project?”
“You pursued it for years and there was only ever a chance it would come off. Don’t quit now.”
“Martin said if I did anything to prevent him from taking the spa project, he’d tell everyone. He’d make it public… about Dad. About—”
“Just do your best,” Jack snaps. “That’s all you need to do. Don’t worry about anything else. Whatever happens, we want them to know how good you are.”
“But what’s the point if—”
“Nico has this in hand. He’ll make sure the project is yours, I swear it. He knows what it means to you.”
Nico? Something in my chest thaws.
A beat passes. “Are you registering this?” Jack questions. “Is she listening? Elly?”
“I’m listening,” I tell him, at the same time as Elly says, “She’s listening.”
“Good. I’ll see you in the office.”
“What did the police say?” I ask before he can hang up.
Jack makes a confused grunting sound.
“The police,” I repeat. “About Curtis and the paintings. All the stuff he nicked. Have they found him yet?”
“Err. No. Negative. I’m sure they will, though. Get your head in the game, Kate. Stay focused on Knightsbridge spa.”
“I quit the project. I already told Nico.”
“Nuh-uh. You don’t get to quit a project like this. That’s what they call self-sabotage. Don’t let Nico—”
“It’s not him,” I lie.
“Fine. Me, then. Whatever. You might never forgive me, but I’m not sitting back and letting you screw up your career. Do you want it? Or do you want to hide under the duvet for the rest of your life?”
“Is this a video call?” I ask, patting the duvet I’m squirreled beneath.
“No. But Elly told me what’s going on over there.”
I shoot Elly a resentful glance. Traitor .
“So, are you giving up?” Jack’s tone softens.
People who give up never get anything they want in life. If that’s the path you choose, then I can’t follow you. Because I don’t fucking quit, and I cannot be with someone who does.
A pitiful sigh comes out my mouth.
“Do you want it?” Jack repeats.
My heart thumps uncomfortably in my chest. “Yes.”
“Good. Then for fuck’s sake, get out of bed and down to the office and prove yourself, or Martin Brooks is going to steal Dad’s dream project right out of your hands.” Jack pauses, a clicking sound coming down the phone like he’s tutting. He’s not finished.
“What?” I wait. “Spit it out, Jack.”
“Shit, Kate. I’m fucking sorry, you know? Nico wanted to tell you about Dad. I made him swear not to. We promised Dad on his deathbed that we’d keep it from you—”
“I know all this.” I sound as bitter and hurt as I feel.
“Then you also need to know that Nico saved the company. He didn’t have to. He could’ve stepped away. He could’ve let the whole thing play out. We would have lost the house. We’d have lost everything. The only reason we still have the company at all is because Nico fucking saved it. Dad would’ve gone to jail if he’d even lived that long. He wasn’t well. His death wasn’t Nico’s fault; it was his own damn fault. He lived recklessly. He’d been living with the guilt and shame and the secret of what he was doing for too long. But he was my father too, and when he begged us to do one last thing for him—to keep his damn depravity from you—we swore we would. So if you’re questioning Nico’s loyalty, or mine, know that we did it for Dad.”
Jack is talking too fast, his voice sounding closer to breaking with each word. I’ve never heard him like this. The emotion coming through the phone is fast and furious and vulnerable. Listening to him makes my heart ache, and tears stab behind my eyelids.
“Just like you wanted to keep the company,” Jack continues. “I wanted to keep something, too. This was the oath I kept… and I’m sorry it hurt you. But that was how Dad loved you, like you would break if you knew the truth. Maybe he couldn’t really see you. Maybe he was wrong, and if so, I’m sorry I colluded in it.” A ragged breath blows down the line. “But I lost Dad too. I wanted to hold on to something . Do something . Don’t hate Nico for it. He would’ve told you if I’d let him. Christ, he pestered me about it. Kept saying we should tell you the truth, and I had no idea it was because he cared about you. I thought he was having some crisis of conscience. It was me who convinced him it was better if you thought he was in the wrong… if you thought he was the bad one, rather than our father. Nico’s not disloyal… his loyalty just didn’t lie with you.”
I swallow hard. “Maybe it should have.”
My pulse beats once, twice, three times before Jack speaks again.
“I don’t know what’s going on between you two,” he says. “And I don’t want to know. God knows, I don’t approve or sanction it or whatever the hell brothers are supposed to do. But I don’t want you to be miserable. So get the fuck out of bed and come down to the office before Nico fires you for pulling too many sickies in a row. We all know you’re not really ill.” He sighs. “So, are you?”
“Am I what? Sick?”
“No,” he says, clearly exasperated. “Broken. Are you broken, now you know the truth?”
Elly has the decency to look away while I absorb Jack’s words. Broken? A tangled mess of bedsheets suffocates my body. I haven’t washed since the weekend. The room must have smelt stale and airless before Elly opened the windows. With a shock, I see myself clearly, and it doesn’t look good. The realisation stokes up a fire in my heart that I thought was extinguished.
I’m not giving up. No one can make me quit. Not even my father and his lies.
I won’t be controlled anymore.
“No,” I reply, pleased with the conviction in my voice. “I’m not broken.”
“Good.”
Jack hangs up and Elly and I stare at each other.
“He’s not the best at apologies, is he?” she says with a bemused shrug. “But he definitely cares.”
I throw back the sheets and stand. “I have a presentation to write.”
Elly breaks into her best championing grin, clenching a fist and pumping it in the air. “Go show those bastards what you’re made of.”