Chapter Twenty-Eight
‘I don’t get it,’ Aiden cried in frustration. ‘What’s so shocking about some bloke dressed up in flowing white robes—’
‘You’re too young to understand the significance,’ his father interrupted. ‘Go on,’ he encouraged Cristy.
‘It was the last thing we expected to see,’ she confessed. ‘A bold-faced white supremacist in—’
‘I thought he was wearing a mask,’ Aiden jumped in.
‘Google it,’ Matthew told him. ‘Put in three capital Ks, see what you get.’
They were at the C?te Brasserie in Clifton, where Cristy had joined them as soon as she’d showered, washed her hair and stuffed her clothes on a super-hot wash.
Connor’s car was a serious no-go zone for the next few days, while a magician of a valet worked on getting the seats clean and the stench out.
‘We have no idea what to make of it,’ she said, picking up her wine. ‘Of all the things we’ve heard about the man, nothing remotely political has come up, and certainly not like that.’
‘Are you sure you were reading it right?’ Matthew frowned. ‘There was a news story recently about some Aussies on a cruise ship who dressed up as snow cones and shocked the hell out of everyone, not realizing what they actually looked like. Same as our son, they were too young—’
‘What the … !’ Aiden exclaimed, staring at his phone in shock. ‘This is seriously messed up.’
‘Those people are,’ Cristy informed him. ‘They’re full of hate and prejudice and everything you can think of that’s vile. We can only be thankful they don’t live here.’
‘Some do,’ Matthew reminded her, ‘and from what you’re saying, at least one of them is on that farm in Wales. Unless, he or she was supposed to be a snow cone, of course.’
Managing a laugh, Cristy said, ‘I’m going to hope that’s all it was, because the alternative is …
Well, apart from all the hideousness of it, I don’t know how we’d handle it.
Badly, is probably the answer, but now we’ve had time to think about it, we’re wondering if it was actually staged for our benefit.
It feels like the kind of thing this J.C.
would do to freak us out – if he actually knew we were there, and I have a horrible feeling he did. ’
Reaching for the bottle to refill their glasses, Matthew said, ‘So where do you go with that, if it turns out you’re right about any of it?’
‘We have a team meeting in the morning to discuss.’
Aiden started to laugh. ‘The bit I can’t get past,’ he said, ‘is you guys sliding about in shit. I’d kill to have seen that. And staring down an actual bull. Kudos to you, Mum. You are like no other.’
‘Kind of what I always say about her,’ Matthew put in, ‘but she never wants to hear it from me. So, moving on … Are we ready to? Sorry, is that—’
‘Definitely moving on,’ she confirmed. ‘Tell me what’s new with you and your second divorce?’
Matthew’s eyebrows rose.
Realizing her attempt at humour was actually offensive, (her sensitivity radar was definitely off these days), she said, ‘Sorry. What I meant was: how goes life with you, Marley and your baby son, Bear?’
Taking a sip of wine, he said, ‘We seem to be at a standstill right now, but I’m assured the divorce is going through, and I should hear any time now about shared custody.
Obviously, my share will be holidays and whenever I can get to LA.
Speaking of which, has Aiden told you about his plans for the summer yet? ’
Aiden looked up from his phone. ‘They’ve changed again,’ he informed his father. ‘Hayley and Hugo have decided to let me join their tour of North America, which they’re planning to end on the West Coast, Vancouver, San Fran, LA. Uncle Tom’s giving us loads of advice for when—’
‘You’re in touch with him?’ Cristy asked, surprised and pleased. Tom had lived abroad for a long time and there had been shamefully scant contact between them since their mother’s death.
‘Hayley set up a WhatsApp, so we’ve been messaging. He’s in Istanbul right now, which sounds seriously cool. He said you and David are talking about meeting up somewhere with him and Serena – so any thoughts on where yet?’
Losing her appetite, Cristy put her fork down as she said, ‘We can’t go anywhere until this series is over.’
Aiden shrugged. ‘I’d choose Prague, if it were up to me. Or maybe Budapest. Dad, didn’t you meet the King of Budapest once?’
‘I think you mean Hungary,’ Matthew said, his eyes fixed on Cristy, ‘and I wasn’t around at the beginning of the last century. You’re probably referring to Alexander Kara?or?evi?, Crown Prince of Yugoslavia.’
‘That’s the guy. I knew it was someone royal from over that way.’
‘All the money we’ve spent on your education,’ Cristy sighed, wishing Matthew would stop looking at her like that, as if sensing something was wrong when she hadn’t said anything was.
‘It’ll be worth it in the end,’ Aiden assured her. ‘Hey, just spotted my mate Jed over there. I’ll be right back.’
As he left the table, Cristy deliberately avoided Matthew’s eyes as she attempted to eat again. ‘Jodi’s weekly spot on the news seems to be working out well,’ she commented chattily.
‘It is,’ he confirmed. ‘So, what’s going on with you? I can tell something is—’
‘You don’t know anything,’ she cut in snappishly.
God, he was annoying! ‘You just make stuff up to try and undermine me and create problems where none exist, so give it a break, will you? I’ve had a long day, I’m not sure how to take the series forward from here, and having you on my case over nothing at all is not what I need. ’
His hands went up in surrender. ‘No need to bite my head off,’ he responded. ‘I was just trying to be friendly—’
‘No, you were trying to make mischief, because you always do, and I’ve had enough of it. If we’re going to carry on seeing one another for the children’s sake, then you need to back the hell out of my personal life where it doesn’t concern you. OK? OK?’ She could almost feel her eyes flashing.
There was a moment before he said, quietly, ‘If that’s what you want—’
‘It is. It’s exactly what I want. I don’t need you or anyone else interfering in my life.
’ She’d already gone too far, and she knew it, but she couldn’t seem to make herself stop.
‘Making assumptions about me, telling me what to do, how to live my life …’ She was trying not to shout and wasn’t even sure what her point was any more.
‘I don’t need your input, thank you very much,’ she muttered.
‘In fact, I’m doing much better without it, so please keep your concern or advice, or whatever the fuck it is, to yourself, and leave me alone. ’
When she finally fell silent, Matthew sat staring at her, clearly mystified and shocked by how, in a matter of moments, she’d managed to morph into a shrewish, deranged stranger who’d apparently gone off the edge.
It was how she felt – alien to herself, as if she’d lost control of her wits, but the rage was there now, and it still felt all-consuming.
‘Well, I guess I should get the bill,’ he said in the end, and signalled to a waiter. ‘Did you bring your car?’
‘I can get an Uber,’ she snapped without meaning to.
‘Aiden’s things are in my boot,’ he explained, ‘and as he’s staying with you for the next few days, maybe I should drive you home. Don’t worry, I’ll leave as soon as I’ve helped him in, and I promise not to ask you anything personal – ever again.’
By the time Cristy got into bed an hour later, she’d managed to calm down and was now feeling wretched and guilty and actually quite lost. In spite of knowing, in her rational mind, that the damnable changes in her middle-aged psyche were most likely to blame for the unforgiveable outburst, she couldn’t help wondering if she was just using it to justify how badly she was handling the fear of losing David.
It had been five days now and they never normally went this long without speaking, so was this his way of trying to let her down gently?
Of course, she could call him, but it didn’t feel like the right thing to do when he’d said he would call her.
And just to add to her stress levels here she was still trying to make a decision about Kinsley’s offer (although that felt more of an impossibility than a bright star on the horizon right now).
It was as though everything – mind, body, hormones, the bloody world at large – was conspiring against her, turning her into a monster, robbing her of reason and sleep and blowing her perspective on even the simplest things right out of the water.
She couldn’t go on like this or she was going to end up alienating everyone by doing or saying something she didn’t mean and would instantly deeply regret – as if she wasn’t already there.
She needed to see a doctor. Obviously they wouldn’t be able to do anything about the heartache or the torturous indecision, but a course of HRT might help alleviate at least some of the strain by taking the heat out of her erratic temper.
It wouldn’t undo any offence she’d already caused, unfortunately, but it might at least prevent her from making things worse.
If there was anything worse than losing David. Right now, she couldn’t think of a single thing.