Chapter 34
‘WHERE’S ADAM?’ MUM asks when I get on the bus alone. Her head swivels around, searching for him in case he slipped on when she wasn’t paying attention.
‘He’s not coming today,’ I say, feeling utterly depleted, as if I’ve climbed Mt Everest. All I want to do is curl into a ball and sleep.
And then maybe I’ll wake up to find this was all a horrible dream and that Adam really is the man I want him to be.
The one I thought he was. If I wasn’t so drained, I’d laugh.
Just when I thought I’d broken my streak of bad relationships, I’m reminded yet again that failure is my natural state.
Mum’s out of her seat before I’ve even sat in mine. ‘Well, that won’t do. I’ll go and get him.’
‘He’s not coming,’ I say again.
‘Clementine is here, Sabrina. I’m not letting him miss out.’
‘If I knew skipping out was an option, I would’ve…’ Gabi trails off when Mum’s steely gaze finds her.
Mum taps Dad’s shoulder. ‘Go and get him, love. We need to get a move on.’
‘He has diarrhea,’ I blurt out, clenching my sweaty hands into fists. I need space to think and I can’t do that with Adam beside me all day. ‘Violent diarrhea,’ I add. ‘Can’t leave the bathroom.’
Dad slinks back into his seat, completely unfazed by Adam’s bodily functions.
‘Eww,’ Amelia says with a scrunch of her nose.
Mum purses her plum-coloured lips and reluctantly sits down. The bus engine rumbles to life and we head down the drive, leaving the manor, and Adam, behind us.
The look on Adam’s face when I left the cottage almost made me let go of my anger and lock away my concerns.
Holding strong and walking away when all I wanted to do was collapse into his arms was quite possibly one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
And right now I need to force a smile and look like I give a shit about meeting Clementine and a day of croquet and finger sandwiches in honour of the episode where Clementine attended the duchess’s garden party.
We’re driven a short distance to the gardens of a nearby castle.
Bill leads us down a path, manicured lawns stretching out on either side, colourful flower beds lining the edges.
Dad points each flower out to us—delphiniums, foxgloves, hydrangeas.
We wander past walled gardens where trellises are swallowed up by pink and white roses, and bees buzz around lavender bushes.
The soft trickle of a fountain grows steadily louder as we approach the terrace where the party was filmed.
Beyond the terrace is the honey-stone castle, its towers drawing an excited squeal from Amelia. Then there’s a reverent sigh from Dad as he stares wistfully at the hedgerows and stretch of trees on the rolling patchwork hills in the distance.
Small tables for two are arranged beneath wide umbrellas, providing shade from the sun. Each one is set up with a vase of hydrangeas, a floral tea set and a tiered stand piled with finger sandwiches and miniature cakes.
Waiting for us is Callie Colbett, the Australian actress with the mediocre British accent who played Clementine Hamesley. Mum and Aunt Carol break into a brisk walk and try to beat one another to get to her first. Mum wins, just, but it’s Aunt Carol’s T-shirt that draws Callie’s attention.
‘That’s me,’ she says, her pale blue eyes wide.
She’s taller than I thought she would be.
Soft freckles dust her pale skin, and her hair, dark blonde now instead of the auburn locks of Clementine, is pulled into a messy high ponytail.
She’s dressed in a pair of ripped jeans and an off-the-shoulder T-shirt that has a small smudge of foundation on the collar.
She picks at her chipped red nail polish as she looks at Aunt Carol.
Aunt Carol stretches the material out so Callie can see the whole thing clearly. ‘I got it made just for this tour. Isn’t it wonderful? I can get one for you too, if you’d like.’
‘I have a cushion at home that I’ve embroidered your face onto,’ Mum says, gently elbowing Aunt Carol out of the way.
‘So do I. Here.’ Aunt Carol fishes her phone out of her giant straw bag. ‘Look.’ She pulls up the photo of the cushion.
‘That’s…um…that’s something,’ Callie says, fighting a laugh.
Aunt Carol beams.
‘Who wants a drink?’ I ask and swat at the fly buzzing around me.
‘Sabrina, it’s not even midday.’ Mum forces a laugh and glances nervously at Callie, checking that she’s not offended by my desire for alcohol.
‘I never turn down a drink,’ Callie says and she follows me to the table laden with drinks.
‘Oh, well if we must,’ Mum says, bustling forward and picking up an empty glass. ‘Moscato, please,’ she says to the waiter. ‘Life is too short to care about drinking before midday.’
‘Cheers to that,’ Callie says and clinks her glass against Mum’s. ‘Now who wants to hear all the gossip from the set of Clovedale?’
Mum and Aunt Carol jockey for position beside Callie and hang on her every word as she tells them about the feuding on set between the actresses who played Lady Hamesley and Francine.
And the time the actor who played Charles accidentally punched Alexander for real and they thought he’d broken his nose.
Or how there were so many romances on set that no one could keep track of who was hooking up with who.
Mum and Aunt Carol ply Callie with questions.
I walk away from their chattering and my mind wanders back to Adam.
The distance from him has done nothing to help me sort through my feelings and I’m at a loss as to where to go from here.
It would be easy to forgive, return home, and see if whatever this is between us exists beyond a Clovedale holiday tour.
It’s the forgetting that will be difficult.
An ever present niggle of doubt will fester and grow, a shadow over every conversation. I don’t know if I can bear that.
‘Adam!’ Mum’s squeal splices through the air and she bustles past me in a whirl of Chanel No 5 and Moscato and throws her arms around him like they’ve been separated for years as opposed to hours.
‘He might be contagious,’ Gabi says.
‘Contagious?’ Adam asks as he looks over Mum’s head, searching—for me. His eyes pierce me, desperate and pleading for a moment alone.
‘Sabrina said you had violent diarrhea.’ Aunt Carol peers up at him from under her straw hat. ‘I don’t want to be sick for the flight home.’
Adam untangles himself from Mum’s arms and moves towards me.
‘He’s contagious,’ I practically shout, stepping back and colliding with one of the tables. The tea set rattles and milk sloshes down the sides of the pretty rose-adorned jug.
Aunt Carol squeaks and slaps a hand over her nose and mouth, glaring at Adam as he moves closer.
‘I’m not sick,’ Adam says.
‘Sabrina said you are,’ Amelia says.
He sighs. ‘I’m not sick.’ He looks at me. ‘Can we talk?’
‘Why did Sabrina say you were sick?’ Amelia asks.
‘What’s going on?’ Mum’s eyes dart between me throwing napkins over the pool of milk and Adam, who is inching away from Aunt Carol and her ferocious glare.
‘He looks sick,’ Aunt Carol mumbles through her fingers.
‘Are you two fighting?’ Mum grabs Adam’s arm and leads him over to me. She snatches the wet napkins from my hands and tosses them on the table. ‘Life is too short for petty arguments.’
‘This is not a petty argument,’ I say.
Gabi scoffs behind me.
‘Shut up, Gabi,’ I snap and turn to her in time to see her eyes widen. ‘Just for once in your life, shut up.’
‘Sabrina!’ Mum’s fingers latch on to my wrist. ‘What’s got into you? First you show no interest in Clementine’s stories—’
‘Callie’s stories,’ Aunt Carol corrects, with a beam at the actress, who is watching this whole thing with such interest I’m surprised she’s not asking for a bucket of popcorn and a comfy chair.
Mum flaps a hand at Aunt Carol. ‘Callie,’ she huffs. ‘And then you’re lying about poor Adam having violent diarrhea. Diarrhea is no joking matter. Remember your Uncle Max had it so bad once he ended up in the hospital. Remember that?’
Uncle Max tips his hat. ‘They put me on a drip.’
Mum gives me a pointed look. ‘And now you’re being rude to your sister. Is it that time of the month?’
A fire rages in me.
‘This is my fault, Dianne,’ Adam says, peeling Mum’s hand off his arm. ‘I upset Sabrina this morning and—’
‘What happened?’ Mum cuts him off.
Adam reaches for me. ‘Can we please talk?’
I shake him off. ‘I told you I needed space. Can you please just leave.’
‘Sabrina!’ Mum snaps and takes Adam’s arm again. ‘You can’t just order him to go. Let’s sit down and talk this through. I’m sure whatever it is, we can sort it out. What you two have is too important to throw away on something silly.’
I tip my head back and swallow a frustrated laugh. ‘We don’t have anything, Mum. He’s not my boyfriend, we’re not in love, we can barely stand to be around each other.’
‘I knew it,’ Gabi mutters.
‘Shut up, Gabi,’ Mum snaps, her eyes never leaving my face. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I told you he was my boyfriend and then I begged him to come to that dinner to meet you. That should’ve been the end of it, but he stupidly gave you his number and now we’re here.’
‘You lied?’ Mum’s mouth pops open and closes again like a stunned goldfish as she grapples to understand.
I don’t dare let myself linger on the fact that a lie is what is tearing Adam and me apart when it’s also the thing that brought us together in the first place.
‘Why would you do that?’ Mum asks, finding her voice again.
‘Why would I do that? Um, let me think,’ I say, unable to hold back the bite of sarcasm that I normally reserve for Adam. ‘We have a contract that clearly states if I’m not in a committed relationship or on my way to one, I have to pay the loan back in its entirety. Time was running out!’
Mum visibly gulps, her eyes darting to Dad.
‘What—’ he starts.