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“Always, midarlin’. See you in a bit then. I’ll get tea from the pub, so don’t eat them sweets you’re always shoving in yer gob.”
I laugh at him and hang up. Funny, driving and soft chewy wine gums—it’s the law, and he knows it!
I track Tommy down and tell him I’m done on-site and off to Devon. Of course he’s happy to come, no explanations needed.
I go home feeling rejuvenated, my only intention to grab a bag and try to avoid the inevitable inquisition. When I pull up, I feel my luck must be changing. The house is empty. I leave a note saying where I’ve gone and I’ll see them Tuesday. After all, I wouldn’t have been home if I’d have stayed at the party.
So when the inescapable calls come in, I’m able to bat them off, claiming Marshall is off to a sale and wants my input on a horse. Stick to the truth as much as possible. Because Jonno can smell a lie at fifty paces.
Pulling in additional unsuspecting resources, I call Grace—just in case she gets a crafty call from Jonno—and tell her I’m at Marshalls.
“Evie, are you okay with everything? I’m not sure what happened to you, but before we all got you upstairs to your room, you were catatonic. I don’t want to pry, but I’m worried about you.” I can hear it in her voice, she sounds close to tears. “Your body was a mess. I’ve never seen anyone with as many bite marks as you had. And don’t try to play it off. I saw you before the black tent and after. What the hell did he do to you? No, actually, don’t tell me, just tell me if you’re okay. I don’t need deets.”
I smile at the ‘deets,’ sigh, and be as honest with her as I can be. “I don’t know if I am totally. I think I am. And I’m working on the bits I’m not sure about. But I know that I will be alright, of that I’m sure. Because, to be honest Grace, I won’t give anyone the satisfaction of my not being. I’m Evie fucking Greystone baby, and the rest can go swivel.”
She starts to laugh. “I love you Evie. Please, if you need me before I see you, at any time, day or night, just pick up the phone.”
“Thanks, Grace.” I appreciate her kindness, but I need to distract her, and myself, from memories of me and the party. “Anyway, how’s Kenny? Have you heard from him?”
She starts to gush about Kenny. She saw him last night and they’re meeting again later towards the weekend. I’m smiling at the end of her tale, genuinely happy for her, and tell her I’ll call to meet up when I’m back from Devon.
Stopping in the nearest large town from Marshall’s, I buy myself a new laptop. I can’t afford for Jonno to be digging into my affairs too soon. I’ll keep it at Marshall’s for now and set up all new email addresses and any files I need. I feel detached from myself, ensconced in a strange sensation of being outside of my body watching myself wander around the town. Eat, sleep, talk… I feel a bit like a robot.
And, that night, after a glass of his best whiskey and a rest, I tell Marshall I’ll be down again on Saturday.
He peers at me over his glasses and I see the concern in his eyes. But he nods, saying nothing.
I land back in London to an exuberant set of boys who have had a great time in France. James and Bucky are full of everything Russell. I sit, listening and smiling at their enthusiasm for the place, and how they intend to make use of it in the summer.
“Dad says you’re going back to the chateau, Mum. To check out some gardens. Can I come with you when you go?” James is looking at me, and all heads turn my way.
“I don’t have any plans to go as yet. I just said I might if I needed anything for the courtyard,” I shrug, “but nothing definite. Nice of him to offer though.”
I see the knowing look pass between the three Greystone brothers. And all of a sudden I’m so angry. I feel it brewing in my stomach, a literal living being crawling up my body, sticking pins into my flesh as it slithers upwards. Fucking white tents is all I think as I look at them all.
I have to move quickly to mask my anger. They absolutely cannot suspect anything is different from exactly what I want them to think and know. I shut down all my emotions and go back to passive, chatty. Smiling at Bucky, who is doing a very good impersonation of Kellen on stage. I genuinely laugh at the chat he’s spewing, and can imagine the crowd, even relatives, eating that shit up.
Jude is waiting for everyone to leave. I know it’s coming—the chat. About Isobel. And when I stand to leave with everyone else, he catches my eye, passing along a silent signal for me to stay. I roll my eyes and wait, watching his brothers touch his shoulders in solidarity.
Really fuckers? What about me?
I really need to rein in my anger. I think I might be projecting it onto Jude, not a good place for any of us to be.
“What’s up, Brown?” I start.
“I want to ask Isobel out?” He dives straight into the point, no beating around the bush.
I shrug, “What’s it to do with me? Go for it.”
“C’mon Evie. I want you to be okay with it.”
“None of my business who you go with. You’ve never asked me before. Why start now?”
“Well, what if she’s here?” he goads.
“Ahhhh, now that’s a different question. In fact, let’s get everyone back in and we’ll discuss this again, shall we.” I bellow down the house for Jackson and Jonno to join us in the kitchen.
James wanders in behind them, looking slightly worried. “Do I need to be in on this, Mum?”
