Chapter 23
‘He totally knows we wiped the footage,’ Matteo leans in to whisper in my ear. ‘I know him. I can tell. He’ll be suspicious as hell of my brother.’
Liberty and Nacho, marginally cheered by our second wedding news, remain very quiet throughout the meal, occasionally glancing at one another and making polite, stilted conversation.
It’s heartbreaking to watch because usually they can’t stop giggling; there’s always playful flirting and there’s always, always a spark between them.
Matteo is doing his best to keep conversation flowing and Birdie has gone back to doing her best to make sure we all know that this is her house and the privacy that the family enjoy is very important.
‘We have several priceless pieces hanging on the walls, artifacts gifted from various royals and don’t get me started on the fine art collection.
That’s why it is imperative that they are not captured on film for anyone to see.
This isn’t Fort Knox. We’d be a sitting duck. ’
My stomach drops guiltily. I hadn’t even given this a thought. ‘Like I said,’ I say through tight lips. ‘We’re very grateful to you and your family and very sorry for the misunderstanding over the film crew and the mystery of the broken vase.’
‘Good job Eddie is here to put it all right,’ Birdie snaps.
‘Where is your family? Are they coming home for Christmas?’ Madge enquires politely.
‘They’re on a superyacht.’ Birdie’s cheeks flush once more.
Madge is determined to drill down to specifics. ‘And you didn’t want to go with them? For Christmas?’
Birdie is really colouring now. She fiddles with her cutlery, straightening it just so. ‘Appears that way.’ She’ll not be winning any Oscars any time soon. ‘There was a… mix-up at the airport.’
‘Did they ask if you were okay with staying here on your own?’ I say, feeling a bit sorry for her. After all, she is a fellow human being. Well, partly. And this story is starting to sound suspiciously like the plot of Home Alone.
She pauses, sighing dramatically. ‘If you must know, not one of them volunteered to wait with me for the medics when I had the fall. Not that I was actually injured but they weren’t to know that.
They went straight to the club lounge; didn’t even notice I wasn’t with them and the next I heard they’d flown off without me.
’ I can see tears pooling in her eyes. ‘And before you ask, no, my parents haven’t rung to see where I am or if I’m okay.
That’s not the sort of family we are. Happy now? ’
I notice Eddie instinctively puts his arm around her bony shoulders. ‘That explains a lot.’ He shakes his head as though pieces of the puzzle are finally slotting into place. ‘It explains a helluva lot. One helluva lot. Yes, ma’am.’
Birdie rolls her eyes at him, blinking away the tears before they dare to fall.
‘Yes, yes. Alright, no need to psychoanalyse me. My childhood abandonment issues have been well and truly documented by a string of therapists, trust me. And let me tell you, most billionaires’ daughters aren’t half as well adjusted as me. ’
I blink slowly. I am seeing Birdie and the facade that masks perhaps a lifetime of neglect in a more charitable light. No wonder she’s so bloody needy for attention. It’s my dad, though, who brings a ray of hope.
‘I’m sorry your parents weren’t there for you,’ he says in that gentle, kind way of his.
It pulls on my heartstrings. ‘It’s basically a parent’s one and only job and they failed you.
I hope you can surround yourself with people who will love and care for you like they should have done.
And take comfort in the fact that if you become a parent yourself one day, you’ll be excellent at it.
You’ll know exactly what to do because you know what it feels like if you don’t. ’
Birdie visibly melts at his sweet assurance.
‘Thank you for saying that,’ she manages before her face crumples, tears flowing down her cheeks as she hurriedly wipes them away with the back of her hand.
Eddie passes her a tissue. Even Matteo pats her awkwardly on the forearm as though testing to see if the iron is still hot.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she gabbles, horrified at herself.
‘I’m not usually like this. I’m so terribly sorry. ’
‘It’s fine,’ Matteo says reassuringly.
‘No. It’s not fine. I owe you all an apology. I’ve been terrible. The truth is… I’m lonely. I have no real friends. My family barely know me… or care. All I have is work. And that’s why I… why I’m such a…’
A strange whistling sound comes from between Eddie’s teeth. ‘Yup. Let me stop you there, darlin’. There aren’t enough hours in the day for you to complete that list.’
He grins from ear to ear before nudging her playfully.
There’s a split second of hesitation before we all burst out laughing, Birdie included. Her nose is running, her eyes have shrunk to the size of peas and her make-up is smudged. Her face creases up as she howls with laughter. I’ve never seen her look more beautiful.
‘Besides, we have a wedding to celebrate, and this scrawny European beef is getting cold,’ he adds, winking at her.
It causes her to laugh even harder. I suspect that’s something she hasn’t done in ages either.
She picks up her knife, twiddles it to see herself in the reflection and gasps.
‘Merde.’ I do believe this may be the very first time that she has laughed or cried in decades.
She scrapes her chair back, regaining some composure. ‘Excuse me a moment.’
I recognise a lost soul when I see one. And for all she’s a pain in the bum, I was once that lost soul and the Dollz saved me. It’s time to pay it forward. ‘I’ll help you.’
Her lip wobbles as she gingerly acknowledges my offer.
After borrowing Tash’s bag of make-up tricks, Birdie and I spend an awkward ten minutes in the bathroom restoring her face back to its factory settings.
‘I’m sorry your family abandoned you like that.
It must have been a bitter pill to swallow.
’ I swish loose powder over her cheekbones.
‘I’m glad we can all be company for you over Christmas. ’
‘I’m sure you’d all rather I wasn’t here,’ she says glumly.
I hesitate before answering because it’s true.
‘I think I’ve been jealous.’ She wrings her hands. ‘Jealous of Matteo and the way you are with each other. I guess… I guess I just want that for myself.’
No shit, Sherlock.
‘And you will. You’ll find someone who can see past the beautiful French heiress to a fortune and really love you for who you are. Your authentic self.’
‘A total bitch, you mean.’ She laughs, lifting her gaze to mine.
‘I was going to say a heartless megalomaniac but whatever.’ I chuckle. ‘There’s someone for everyone, my mother used to say.’
As I’m packing the last blusher brush away, she rests a bony hand on my arm. ‘Thank you, Connie. I appreciate it.’
Enough to leave me and my husband alone?
‘It was a replica.’
‘Sorry?’
‘The vase. It was a replica. The originals are kept in a safe.’ Birdie looks at me through her lashes. ‘Did you break it?’
I shake my head. ‘It was Louis, the puppy.’
She smiles enigmatically. ‘Of course it was.’
‘It was. Do replicas cost much?’
‘Hmm.’ She eyes me dangerously. ‘Let’s just say, you owe me one.’
‘Hah. Let’s not.’
She regards me for a few seconds. ‘Fair enough.’
Oh my effing word, she actually backed down!
We arrive back in time for dessert, which is a spectacular trio of wedding cakes all done differently, in various shapes, colours and flavours. They are adorned with delicate arrangements of flower petals and handcrafted miniature decorations and are visually stunning.
‘Who did the catering?’ Madge asks. ‘I’ve never tasted food quite like it.’
‘Oh, I called a friend of mine I went to school with, in Switzerland, called Levi,’ Birdie explains.
‘His girlfriend Molly’s a chef and she and his brother and sister have teamed up to run a catering company in the Alps.
She’s very clever. Plus, they were the only ones I could think of nearby at such short notice. ’
‘Thank you.’ I smile at her. ‘You really have saved the day. We are very grateful.’
Birdie blushes again. This is not the side of her we’re used to. I hope it isn’t an act. I can see Eddie is regarding her with interest. ‘Levi LeRoux? I know him. He’s a good guy.’
Soon, it’s time for the extravagant cheeseboards and accompaniments to come out and for the guests to mingle before there’s a scheduled break.
We will all be changing into our Bridgerton costumes ready for an evening of dancing after such a lavish Hogwarts-themed banquet.
As the room becomes full of friends and family darting around, swigging drinks and taking selfies with Louis, I suddenly remember I lost one of my elaborate earrings in the secret passageway.
It belongs to the theatre and must be returned with the costume.
I tug Matteo’s arm and whisper that I still need to find the lost earring, and he volunteers to come with me.
We scurry into the ballroom to find it empty.
Matteo feels along the edge of the dado rail until we hear a click.
He checks over both shoulders before pushing gently on the panel that opens to reveal the secret passageway.
We slip inside unnoticed and are immediately surprised to see crates of Lovington piled high against the wall.
‘Big Sue,’ I guess, wondering how on earth she could have known about this place.
‘She’s certainly impressive. It’s like having our own team of special forces.’ Matteo smirks as we descend the steps to the cellar. ‘We could do with her to help find the earring.’
‘It must be here somewhere.’ I search the floor and chaise longue. Butterflies invade my stomach at the delicious memory of the last time we were in here.
‘I’ll check behind the—’
On hearing voices, we stop talking. Someone has come into the ballroom.
We wait.
And wait.
It sounds like Liberty and Eddie having a heated discussion.
Oh no.