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)
My hand wedged into the tree trunk, I bend a leg in turn and get my trainers on, my phone held to my ear by my shoulder. “I haven’t really thought about it.” I’m busy having a meltdown of epic proportions and nursing a broken heart.
“I did a bit of digging.”
“Why? I want to forget it ever happened.” And deal with this . . . issue. And yet I haven’t really paid much thought to how I’m going to deal with it. If I need to deal with it. Oh, please let me not have to deal with this.
“Did you know Nick changed his name?” Clark asks.
“What?”
“He worked at Flagstar when the bank went tits-up ten years ago.”
I laugh, getting my bag back on my shoulder. “No, that can’t be right. I’d know something like that.”
“I’m telling you, Amelia. I’m looking at a picture of him when he was, I don’t know, early twenties maybe. It’s definitely him, but it says his name is Nicolas Green, not Phillips.”
“Nicolas Green?” I ask, my face bunching. “Why would he change his name?”
“I don’t know.”
My mind takes me back to the bar, the standoff between Nick and Jude after I stupidly introduced them. But I quickly pull myself back into line, adamant I won’t waste any more thinking space on them. “Look, Clark, I want nothing to do with either of them, so you can stop wasting your time on an undercover investigation.”
“You’re not curious?”
“No, I’m too busy in a crisis.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” I pick up my feet. “I won’t make it to Mum and Dad’s this evening.”
“Again? What’s going on?”
“Nothing, Clark. I just found out the man I was seeing was using me, so forgive me if I’m feeling a little wounded and unsociable.” I sigh, wishing I hadn’t said that. But what’s the alternative? Telling him I think I’ve been even more stupid and got myself pregnant? A bench a few feet away catches my eye, and my tired bones relent to its lure. My arse hits the wood, and I take a moment to try and breathe steady for the first time since . . .
I don’t know when. Maybe it was before I met Jude. Everything feels blurred and distorted.
“I said I’d pop round Charley’s. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” I drop my phone to my lap and watch the world go by for a while, wondering if I’m mentally stalling what needs to be done. Probably. “How did you let this happen, Amelia?” I ask myself, smiling at an old boy walking a spaniel when he gives me questioning eyes. I put my bag onto my lap and look at the box inside. Am I?
I text Charley.
Are you home?
Yes. Abbie’s here too.
I stand and head for the Tube.
Chapter 26
The front door swings open and Lloyd’s face drops. “Oh fuck, what’s happened?” he breathes. “Charley!”
I thought I’d got a hold of myself, but the second Charley appears, the dam cracks again and emotion pours out of me rapidly. It might be the familiar face. I don’t know.
“I’ll leave you three to it,” Lloyd says, claiming the kids and making a sharp exit, just as Abbie appears. That makes me cry harder. Charley hauls me into her chest, squeezing me, and Abbie’s hand pats at my back. My sobs accelerate, becoming louder, my body more out of control.
“Amelia?” Abbie says gently, as Charley guides me to the kitchen and puts me on a stool. Abbie runs to the fridge, pours wine for everyone, and when she slides it across the island to me, I cry harder.
“Oh fucking hell.” Abbie leans back on her stool, swigging her own wine with wide eyes, bracing herself.
A tissue is pushed into my hand, and I use the other to pull out the box from my bag and put it on the island. Both women stare down at it for much longer than they really need to. Both of their reactions are delayed. Both their round eyes shoot up. Both their gasps fill the kitchen. And then both of them slap palms over their mouths.
Shocked.
So shocked.
“Who?” Charley asks.
I can’t even say his name, more tears coming, my throat getting thicker. “J—”
“Oh my fuck.” Charley drops to a stool heavily and fills her glass. “And you’re sure?”
I shake my head, pushing the box farther forward. “I didn’t want to be alone when it’s confirmed beyond all doubt that I’m a reckless dickhead.”
Abbie coughs over an inappropriate huff of laughter, and Charley smiles softly. “Come on,” she says, sliding the box off the marble and taking my hand. Abbie takes the other, and my two best friends walk me to the bathroom to do the dreaded test.
“Have you thought about what you’ll do?” Abbie asks as Charley gets a test out of the box. I shake my head, my eyes lasers on Charley’s working hands. I can’t think past the fact that I have been so fucking dumb, on every level. And as if to remind me exactly how dumb, my mobile rings in my hand. I look down at the screen. My insides twist.