Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
“And your father?”
“Shall we?” Jude asks, completely ignoring Mum’s not-so-subtle pressing of the cause of his father’s death.
“Oh, yes, of course. I need the bathroom.” Mum looks around. “Do you mind?”
“Just through there on the right.” Jude points the way. “We’ll wait for you here.”
Mum leaves, Dad wanders across to a nearby coffee table, instantly happy to see the Financial Times on it, and Jude acts like he’s not just shut my mum down. Not that she should be asking such personal, sensitive questions, but still. Because I know what I know, the questions I thought were explained suddenly feel open again.
“What?” Jude asks when he catches me observing him.
“Did you and your father get along?”
“Yes, like a house on fire.” He slips an arm around my shoulder.
So he’s just mad at him for dying? “I’m struggling to unders—”
“This is nice,” he says, squeezing me tighter. “Me, you, your parents.”
My parents. Because I have parents. And Jude does not. Empathy suddenly won’t allow me to push him. And I would be wholly insensitive if I demanded more information. If there’s even more to know. Is there more to know? I just get the feeling there’s more to it, more he’s not telling me.
“It’s really nice,” I reply, pushing my wondering away for now. “So we’re taking my parents clubbing?” I hold his hand where it’s draped over my shoulder.
“Looks like it.” Jude chuckles as Anouska walks through the glass doors. He spots her and releases me. “Give me a second.” He goes to her, and she falls into stride beside him, both walking slowly, talking quietly.
I take the opportunity to search for Mum to make sure she’s not gotten lost, finding her in the ladies’, her phone held up in front of her. “You should see it!”
“Who are you talking to?” I ask.
Mum whirls around, looking guilty. “Oh, oh, um, no one.”
“Is that Amelia?” Grandma’s voice fills the room.
“Mother!” I scold her, pursing my lips and taking the phone from her hand, seeing Grandma’s ear on the screen. “Grandma, you’re on FaceTime.”
“Oh?” She appears, her face close. “Ah, how lovely to see you, Grand Girl.”
“And you,” I reply, giving Mum a pointed look.
“I wanted to show your grandma around.”
“Another time. You’ve just met him.” I go back to Grandma. “Mum will see you tomorrow.”
I hang up and collect my mother, steering her back to the lobby before she can go AWOL again. “Will you be normal?”
“I’m just so excited! Do you know the last time I had a cocktail in the afternoon?”
I look at her, observing. “Are you drunk?”
“Maybe just a little.”
I walk her through to the lobby and find my father, watching him for a few moments, seeing him swaying. “Oh God,” I breathe.
I release Mum and let Dad take over, both of them wandering off as Jude joins me again. “They’re tipsy. They didn’t even get tipsy at Clark’s wedding.”
“It’s nice.” Jude slips his arm around my shoulders. “They’re enjoying themselves.”
I watch them a few paces ahead, arms linked, steadying each other. “Thank you for doing this.”
“Well, I’d rather have you in bed, licking champagne off your body, but needs must.” He eyes me cheekily. “Has your ex been in touch any more?”
I shake my head.
“Aren’t you worried your dad will tell him about me?”
I stop him walking, my head hurting. “Why the concern about Nick all of a sudden?”
“I’m not concerned.” His voice is soft as he takes my hands. “Can you give me the heads-up when you intend to tell him?”
“What? Why?”
“So I can be prepared.”
“Like I was prepared for Katherine?” I ask, failing to remove the sarcasm from my tone.
The rolling jaw’s back. I’m a master at spiking it, which is a joke in itself. “Let’s not be petty.”
“You don’t need to worry about retaliation from Nick.”
Jude scoffs. “I’m not worried about retaliation.”
“Then why the big deal?”
“It’s no big deal.”
I stand back on a small smile. “Are you worried he’ll convince me to go back to him?”
“Really, Amelia? I just want us to communicate, and I know it won’t be nice for you. I want to support you.”
“Wow.”
“Shut up.” He frames my face with his hands and smacks a kiss on my lips. “Let’s take your parents clubbing.”
I laugh loudly, freeing myself of Jude’s clutches as my phone rings. “It’s Clark. Mind?”
“Sure.” Jude takes the opportunity to make his own call, wandering off a few paces.
“Hey,” I say when I’ve answered. “Are you back?”
“Just pulling out of Heathrow.”
“Was it amazing?”
“Stunning. Where are you?”
“At Arlington Hall.”
“Of course.”
“With Mum and Dad.”
“What?”
I look at Jude. He’s frowning down at his mobile. “Yeah, they showed up. Dad’s become all passive, given Jude the dad talk, and everything seems . . . well, lovely, actually.”
“The dad talk?”
“Did you know he only liked Nick because he was wet?”
Clark laughs hard. “He admitted that?”