Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
M aya had fallen into an exhausted sleep after the emotional meeting with Tabitha and then a barrage of work emails that she couldn’t ignore. She’d tried to contact Noah, but he wasn’t answering and in the end she’d given up and put her phone onto silent. She’d drank a couple of glasses of wine while she’d been working to soothe her growing unease about why she couldn’t get hold of Noah, but decided she was being paranoid as they went days without contact from time to time when both of their schedules were busy. Surely this was Tabitha being malicious again, but she’d appeared vulnerable and open about her feelings and a few of the things she’d said had rung alarm bells in Maya’s head. The timings of this absence of communication couldn’t have been worse, but she was a tough cookie and she could cope on her own as usual.
When she woke the next morning, her head felt like it was banging at the gates of hell and her mouth was so dry that she could barely stumble into her en-suite to run a glass under the cold tap. After glugging a whole glassful of water down, she walked over to her windows and gasped in shock. Maya grabbed hold of the curtains for support and quickly ducked behind them as she fell to the floor. All the air whooshed out of her and as she pulled herself up to look again, she noted hundreds of photographers and journalists outside her home, swarming around the front door. Pulling out the earplugs she sometimes wore when she was anxious and needed a good night’s sleep, she threw them on the floor.
Maya tried not to hyperventilate and dressed as quickly as she could, shoving a baseball cap over her hair and some dark glasses on her face. The constant dinging of the front doorbell was incessant, so she grabbed her phone without looking at it and didn’t switch the ringer back on because her head was already pounding. Throwing a few items of clothing into a bag that she’d left by the door to the dock, she slid her phone in her pocket and swung the bag over her shoulder before slipping out of the door and into the boat stored under her house. Smoothly, angling out of the berth and along the river, she was on her way before anyone thought to look at that side of the house.
Maya breathed a sigh of relief as she left the jetty behind and wondered what the hell had happened? She pulled up at the private dock by her grandparent’s house that was partially hidden by an enormous willow tree and slipped inside the house after a quick sprint up the garden, avoiding the many plants in pots that her grandad had arranged haphazardly on the grass. He must be having a glasshouse clear out, but it looked even more like a leafy assault course than usual. Her whole family was already sitting around the kitchen table like a council of war when she stepped through the kitchen door via the conservatory. The air smelt of freshly brewed tea and all the lights were on for some reason. She noted her parents were currently on FaceTime to her siblings, and they all looked her way as she rushed in and darted glances around. Romy jumped up and hugged her fiercely, muttering under her breath about ‘bloody men’. Her grandmother waited patiently and then did the same.
‘What the hell has happened?’ she asked, trying to catch her breath. ‘Is it something to do with Noah? I haven’t even had time to check my phone. I was so tired from finishing my latest design last night that I passed out.’ Arthur handed her a rather full tumbler of brandy that he’d been drinking from. Maya sniffed it and flinched at the pungent aroma, but sipped it anyway to calm her racing nerves.
‘You’re going to need that,’ he said, anger emanating from him as he paced back and forth across the room, running his hands through his tousled blonde hair, his face unreadable. He pointed to the newspapers that were strewn across the huge wooden kitchen table and she leaned forward and started scanning them all with her eyes, before stepping back like they had shot her, with a hand to her heart. There were photos of her with Robbie on Bertha where he was kissing her on the lips during his surprise visit, ones with Noah were they were watching the stars at night and were in each other’s arms and several with her and Blake, some of which looked like they’d come from the little album she’d made up for him for their three-year anniversary. She didn’t even know he’d kept it and had assumed he would have thrown it away by now. She looked like a complete strumpet, or a fame hunter, and stumbled back, winded by what the images looked like. Arthur put his arm around her and pulled her to his side for comfort. The biggest headline was: Secret No.1 Ethereal Lane jewellery designer unmasked! The rest were more of the same. It made it look like she’d slept her way to the top.
‘Someone must have tipped off papers,’ she said gravely.
‘Who would do that?’ asked Arthur, his dark eyes watching her closely as she moved back to read more.
Had Noah and Blake concocted this together for their own gain as Tabitha suggested? Did Blake set this up because he was splashed across the papers as well and they had linked his brand with hers, because they now knew she’d designed his ranges too. Now their names would be interlinked forever, she flinched and her heart sank. She had wanted to let everyone know who was behind her brand, but not this way. Now it looked like she’d used her famous connections to make No. 1 Ethereal Lane popular and had flown on Blake’s coat tails.
She read on as her grandad came and pulled out a chair for her and urged her to sit down, motioning for Ettie to make fresh tea and bring sustenance for them all. She rushed to put the kettle on and returned with an enormous plate full of homemade biscuits of various sizes, which finally made Maya smile before the feeling of pure dread returned.
There was a press statement from Blake saying that he couldn't confirm that the No. 1 Ethereal Lane designer was Maya. He’d added that they’d worked together in creating BM Bespoke as a team and their brand stood for both of their initials. Nothing about how he’d slept with their model while they were engaged or that he’d profited from her designs without her consent.
One newspaper had printed a photo of her hugging Dame Rosalie Alton at the ball, so now speculation about who she really was, was rife. Some articles said she was an artist local to Windsor, another said she served drinks on a steamboat cruiser on the river Thames. There was a copy of the photo of Bertha where she was standing next to Gio, and he had his arm around her. ‘Oh, my God! What do I do?’ she asked in a panic? ‘This makes me look like I’m a pathetic loser who uses my friends for fame.’
‘No, it doesn’t!’ raged Romy, banging the table and making them all jump. ‘Your artistic talent made both you and Blake famous and your designs caught the interest of the public, not who you date.’ Maya’s heart softened at her sister’s protective words, but the reality was that kudos behind her carefully built up branding had just crashed and burnt.
‘If anyone dares to speak unkindly of my sister, they’ll have me to deal with,’ Romy added with fire.
‘Likewise,’ ground out Arthur, coming to stand behind his sister, his hands resting on the back of her chair. Maya put her hand on his and squeezed it in thanks.
Maya turned a page over, hoping to see fresh news, but the next photo was one of her and Matt a couple of years after they’d first met. He was hugging her tight, their faces full of laughter. Maya remembered Leah had taken the photo, and she’d been pulling funny faces to make them smile because she’d said they were both spending too much time in Matt’s new office. How had they gotten that photo? Matt and Leah wouldn’t have given it to them. That was one thing she was sure of. The thought made a shiver go down her spine and she hugged herself with her arms to get some warmth back into her veins.
‘Who would have broken the story?’ demanded Romy. ‘Who had the most to gain?’ Maya’s head was spinning and she couldn’t think straight, but Arthur moved one newspaper across and pushed another in front of her. Her face drained of colour when she saw it. Noah's movie was discussed in many of the articles that her grandmother had kind of hidden and she stood up and moved around the table to read them all. Rosalie was in one image, at the ball, holding up the waterfall necklace and then later, hugging Maya, with image after image of Noah and Rosalie’s upcoming movie being mentioned. Maya was pictured with Noah as they smiled into each other’s eyes as they left the event, and she remembered how happy she’d felt in her vibrant dress with a man who’d just expressed that he loved her. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and refused to let the tears flow. The image made her blood run cold, and she quickly picked up her phone and tried to scroll through the million messages on there, then gave up and handed it to Arthur, who did the same.
‘They’re asking if Noah might be the next No.1 Ethereal Lane model or if you might design for his movie,’ said her grandmother, taking a biscuit and handing it to Maya who ate it without thinking and then winced as her stomach pushed back and refused to take it in. She gulped down the whisky and then grimaced at the bitter taste.
‘There’s also this…’ said Romy, ignoring her grandmother, who tried to snatch that article away. She dodged it and went to stand next to Maya, handing her the article and putting an arm around her shoulder for support. The image was of Noah and Tabitha the previous evening. He had his hand around her waist, but she looked wary and uncomfortable as they left a top-end restaurant. So much for being snowed under with work! Had they both played her for their own gain, or had Tabitha been right? She certainly didn’t look happy in the photo. Maya sobbed and pushed away from her sister to run to the bathroom and fall to the floor while she curled up into a ball and howled, her body shaking at the injustice of it all. She’d done it ag ain. Trusted the wrong man. When would she ever learn?
‘It has to be Noah or Blake or someone who hates her enough to want to destroy her life,’ said Romy, her teeth barring and her fists bunching, as Maya finally pulled herself together and return to the kitchen after washing her face several times, using eye drops to mask her tired eyes and giving herself a stern talking to about standing up people who thought they could control her, or her life. She’d survived before and she would do so again. Maya hadn’t known what her life would look like after Blake, but she had more choices than she’d had last time, including a home, money in the bank, and her friends and family. Her smile wobbled when she heard what Romy had to say, but she couldn’t disagree with her sentiment. Someone was clearly out to tarnish her reputation or add to their own career. There was still huge speculation about the exact location of No. 1 Ethereal Lane in pretty much all the articles and although some voiced the opinion that it was a fictional place, or just what she called her new studio, others said it must be real.
Arthur handed her the phone where he’d separated the emails and texts into files, and she gratefully received another hug of support from him. He was over six foot tall and towered over her, but he gave the best cuddles. ‘Is there anything else I can do?’ he asked. ‘Want me to beat Noah and Blake with a stick?’ he half-joked. Maya tried to summon up a smile, but it fell short.
‘Thanks for the sentiment, but the last time you got into a fight, he was twice your size and he broke your nose,’ she chuckled but it hurt her ribs where she’d been crying so much.
‘Good point, although I was only twelve. I’m more of a lover than a fighter,’ he winked, and she spluttered a laugh at that, which made him grin and ruffle her hair like he had when they were kids, even though she was older than him. ‘You’ll be okay, sis. It needed to come out at some point, so maybe they’ve done you a favour?’ She raised an eyebrow at this, and he just shrugged and guided her back to sit at the family kitchen table. She looked up as she heard noise outside, which made her quake with fear, but she sighed in relief when Matt and Leah arrived in a bustle of greetings, exclamations of anger and hugs of support. Rosalie was next, but they all did a double take as she was disguised as a grey-haired man with a flat cap, tweed jacket and walking stick, which raised a few smiles.
‘How did you all get here without being seen?’ she asked incredulously, her eyes beginning to water again, so she sniffed and rubbed her already red nose.
‘Noah brought Matt and Leah,’ said Rosalie as Maya gasped in shock. Noah was the last person she wanted to see right now. She’d probably shove him in the river and invite Tabitha to watch. ‘He knew you’d need support, so he arranged for Matt and Leah to be picked up and drove them here on his boat,’ continued Rosalie, patting her hand kindly and then hugging her fiercely.
‘We had to hide under a big blanket!’ said Leah, but it sounded like she’d enjoyed the subterfuge. ‘Noah’s in the back garden waiting for you,’ she pulled a face, but didn’t look that sorry. Maya hadn’t had time to tell Leah about her conversation with Tabitha, but when she did, all hell would break loose. Maya’s cheeks flushed pink, and she looked at her grandmother for advice, rubbing her sore eyes.
‘Take my stick in case you want to shove him in the river,’ she advised, echoing Maya’s thoughts. Maya was unsure about what to do, but she would have to face Noah at some point, so she might as well get it over with. She pushed herself up on tired arms, kissed Ettie on the cheek and then quickly hugged Matt and Leah before leaving them all to it, knowing they’d have their noses pressed against the conservatory glass in seconds. Evan was standing guard by the door and she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek in thanks. He clearly hadn’t let Noah through to the house and her heart swelled with love for her family. Noah was wearing a long-sleeved fitted black top and slim fit jeans that hugged his waist and Maya hated the way her heart soared at the sight of him.
Her eyes met Noah’s concerned one and before he could speak, she tilted her head further down the garden to let him know to wait and that they should begin their conversation there. She hadn’t picked up her gran’s walking stick, but there were plenty of places to stash a body in the river if it came to that, so she grit her teeth and led the way, being careful not to touch him as they walked side by side. ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked him as they reached a huge glasshouse at the end of the garden that was partially hidden by an enormous willow tree.