Chapter 22
Digital billboards surrounding Piccadilly Circus lit up the early evening gloom with a kaleidoscope of vibrant colour, but Mattie gave them little more than a cursory glance as she tried in vain to calm her rampaging nerves.
She stood on the stone steps surrounding the statue of Eros and looked down on the throngs of people milling around.
Where were Shona and Lisa? They’d texted an hour ago to say they were on their way.
The journey on the Northern Line should only have taken thirty minutes.
Why had their plans gone awry? Mattie checked her phone again.
No messages. She tapped out and sent one of her own.
ETA? She jiggled her feet, unable to keep still as she waited for a response.
The book launch had already started, and she couldn’t stall for much longer. Her phone buzzed.
Mattie growled, and the teenagers standing next to her jerked back.
Now she’d have to do what she’d been trying to avoid and walk into the event at the bookstore alone.
Or I could go home. There was no law that said she had to go to the launch.
Except she’d feel so bloody guilty if she didn’t.
She puffed out her cheeks and forced her legs to move.
The venue was barely a stone’s throw away, so even at tortoise speed, it didn’t take her long to get there.
It was London’s biggest bookstore, a place where she’d browsed often, but this was the first time she was dreading going inside.
Her legs stuttered, and she leaned her head against the glass of the shop window for support.
She closed her eyes. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out.
When she opened her eyes again, they focused on a pyramid of books in the window display.
Jon’s scarred face smiled at her from the front cover of each one.
She laughed, but the sound was hollow. There was no bloody escape.
Jon’s memoir recounted the events leading up to the attack in Kenya and his path to survival and recovery since then, and it was being touted as one of the books of the year.
Before it went to press, he’d shown her the chapters featuring her, to check he’d made no errors.
She’d read them, managing to do so by tricking her brain into behaving as an objective reader rather than acknowledging her leading role.
Film had been Jon’s specialism, but his written words carried pathos, reality, and wisdom.
He’d signed and dedicated an advanced copy for her, but it was still in its paper bag in a cupboard.
She couldn’t imagine ever wanting to display it on her bookshelf.
Her phone rang. Please let it be Shona to say they’re nearly here after all. But the display showed it was Jon. Much as she wanted to, she couldn’t ignore it.
“Hey, buddy. Where’s my guest of honour?” Jon’s voice was only just discernible over the babble of background noise.
About to run away like a coward. She steeled herself. “Almost there.”
“Great. I’ll hold off with my speech until you’ve arrived.”
Now she really had no choice. Her stomach twisted into a hard knot as a customer leaving the store held the heavy glass door open for her.
Her love and huge respect for Jon was the only reason she’d accepted the invitation.
She didn’t have to stay for the whole event.
Ten minutes was better than nothing, right?
The party was being held on the fifth floor, where an area in one corner had been cordoned off, and it looked like half the media world had turned out to support Jon.
A wall of noisy chatter hit her, and the space thronged with people, most of whom she recognised.
“Mattie!” Jon waved.
His wife, Fiona, stood next to him, beaming proudly. Mattie plastered on her camera-ready smile and hugged them both.
“Thank you for coming. What a wonderful turnout,” Fiona said.
Her voice sounded high and excited, the opposite to what it’d been in the dark weeks immediately after the attack.
“Speeches will be in twenty minutes. There are some people who’d like to meet you,” Jon said, tilting his head towards a group she didn’t recognise.
Mattie took a glass of red wine from a proffered tray and took a large gulp. “Lead the way.”
People talked to her and at her, and Mattie’s face ached from continuously forcing a smile.
Adrenaline kicked in as she “worked” the room.
I’m doing this for Jon. She’d hang around until the speeches finished and then make her excuses.
She was surrounded by people but felt adrift from them all.
Where were Shona and Lisa? She looked around but couldn’t see them.
They needed to rescue her before her mask slipped.
She nodded like a puppet on a string while Alan, one of Jon’s old university friends, droned on about the global coffee-bean trade.
Then she caught the word “Kenya” and realised he’d segued into talking about the fire and how brave she’d been.
No more. Please, no more. Everyone needed to leave her in peace.
Frantically, she scanned the room for Shona and Lisa again.
And then she blinked rapidly. Was she so desperate that her brain was conjuring up a hallucination, like sailors who were convinced they’d spotted land, only for it to be a mirage?
Nell. She was standing by the rope cordon, dressed in a dark trouser suit, and with an expression on her face that Mattie couldn’t decipher.
Their gazes locked, and Mattie’s breath hitched.
She managed to apologise to Alan before prising herself away to weave through the throng until she reached Nell.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” Nell said.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” Mattie pulled Nell into a tight hug and clung on. Nell was strong and warm, a life raft to tether herself to.
“Good.” Nell wrapped her arms around her.
Mattie’s face stung with heightened awareness, and she struggled to keep sudden tears at bay.
She breathed in the spicy fragrance Nell wore.
It had a tang of sweetness to it that suited her.
Reluctantly, she pulled away, despite wanting to stay in the embrace and to ignore the looks she sensed they were getting.
Her gaze lingered on Nell’s face, on lips she hadn’t kissed in seventeen long days. “How did you find me?”
“Sort of by chance,” Nell said.
Before Mattie had a chance to question what Nell meant, she became aware of someone approaching. The woman was twenty-something, wearing hot pants, a crop top, and an over-the-top smile.
“Hi, Mattie. Sorry to interrupt,” she said, sounding anything but. “I’m Jon’s publicist. Can I borrow you for a mo?”
No, she didn’t want to be borrowed. She wanted to stay here with Nell. “Of course.” She plastered her camera-ready smile back on. When Nell went to step back, Mattie clutched her hand. “Come with me.” Don’t leave me.
“If you’re sure.” Nell let Mattie lead her through the crowds. “This is the first time I’ve been to a book launch.”
“Don’t expect too much. It’s just a load of people sharing small talk surrounded by books. Then the author usually gives a speech and begs you to buy their book.” Mattie’s lips quirked. “If you’re really quick, you might get a piece of cake.”
“Cake sounds good,” said Nell.
Being “borrowed” involved posing for the cameras with Jon while they held copies of his book.
Now that Nell was with her, it was easier to smile and laugh naturally, rather than force it.
Mattie quickly returned to Nell’s side while the publicist clapped to gain everyone’s attention.
She introduced the publisher, who thanked everyone for coming and expressed his admiration for Jon and his book, before asking the man of the moment to say a few words.
“Only a few words? I’ve got more than a hundred thousand in the book to choose from,” Jon said, and everyone laughed.
Mattie watched as he held court. There was no way he could hide his injuries, even if he wanted to, which he clearly didn’t.
He wore a prosthetic right arm because his had been amputated just below his elbow, and he was missing two fingers from his left hand.
Burn marks scarred the right side of his neck, although they were less obvious from a distance.
“As many of you know, I developed sepsis, a common complication of serious burns,” said Jon.
“I was lucky to survive. Many don’t. You can read the grisly details when you all buy the book.
” He clutched the book in his bionic hand and waved it in the air, making everyone chuckle.
“Yes, folks, you are at a marketing event!”
“Does he always downplay the seriousness of his injuries and make a joke about it?” Nell whispered.
She leaned into Nell, craving her warmth and touch. “Always.”
Jon’s smile fell away, and he pressed his lips together tightly.
“It’s also a celebration, not just of survival but of life, and the very best of humanity.
Everyone from my son’s driving instructor, who offered to drive me home from the hospital, to the colleague and dear friend who refused to leave a burning building until she’d dragged me to safety.
” He gestured toward Mattie with his book.
Everyone turned to look at her. Oh god. She tugged her hair down, hoping it covered the burn scars on the tips of her ears.
“Mattie, I will be forever grateful. You are the best of everything.” Jon raised his glass in a toast, and there was a collective chant of “Hear, hear.”
She fixed a smile to her face as she tilted her head at Jon in acknowledgement of his tribute. Her wine shook in the glass as she trembled. This was all too much now.
Nell moved behind her. “Lean on me.”
Mattie closed her eyes in relief as her back melded against Nell.
“I’ve got you,” Nell whispered.
The sensation of being untethered fell away, and Mattie took a deep, life-affirming breath. “Thank you.”
After the cake was cut and handed around on paper plates, Mattie introduced Nell to Jon and Fiona. If Jon was curious about the nature of their friendship, he kept it to himself. He knew her well enough not to pry.
Thankfully, the crowd was beginning to thin out.
She’d done her duty and managed not to completely lose the plot, thanks to Nell, but the air was hot and thin, and her chest ached.
“I desperately need to get out of here,” she murmured, once Jon and Fiona had turned to speak to other guests.
Nell nodded, and the gentle touch of her hand in the small of Mattie’s back went a little way to quelling her growing anxiety, but she feared it wouldn’t be enough.
Alan, Jon’s friend from earlier, waved at her as the lift arrived, and he stepped inside and held the door open for them.
“We’ll take the stairs,” said Nell. “I get a bit claustrophobic in lifts.”
“I didn’t know that,” said Mattie, once the doors had closed.
“I lied,” Nell said quietly enough that no one else could hear. “This evening has been enough of an ordeal for you without adding confined spaces.”
She understands. She gets me. Warmth and an unaccustomed desire to cry engulfed Mattie. When was the last time someone truly understood her. Had anyone, ever?