57. Natalie

57

NATALIE

I should speak to Stephen alone, I really should.

But maybe if I spill the beans to him when Anna’s around, he won’t bite my head off.

That’s not fair. He deserves to hear this from me, one on one. That’s all there is to it.

Although… Anna’s his wife. She deserves to hear it just as much as he does.

If I meet up with him alone, then he’ll just end up storming off home and giving her some massively skewed version of the truth, and then she’ll go all mama bear and call me, and I’ll tell her my version of events, and she’ll be horrified on my and Adam’s account and she’ll hang up and bollock Winky, and it’ll all be a giant mess.

Yep.

I’m definitely bringing Anna along for the ride.

Maybe I can use her as a human shield if the shit really hits the fan?

I purposely leave my chat with Stephen until the day before Adam and I are due to fly to New York. I’m intent on getting my secret relationship off my chest so I can enjoy what I know will be the most exciting trip I’ve ever been on, and there’s some comfort in knowing I’ll be putting an ocean between us if my brother really loses his rag.

The memory of our impromptu and ridiculously emotional (not to mention eye-opening) lunch with Mum is as much of a balm to my conscience as it is a warm blanket around my heart. That my mother knows and adores Adam is crazy and wonderful and miraculous.

When he disappeared off to pay the bill at his insistence, she hugged me so tightly and told me how absolutely thrilled she was for us both and how certain she was that he would make me happy. I won’t allow myself to have her level of faith over our future—it’s been less than a month since we started fooling around, after all—but her insistence that we’re good together is a definite comfort. She seems equally excited for both of us. Not only is Adam a “good boy” and therefore a worthy suitor, but she also seems relieved that he has me in his corner.

If only she knew how fully and irrevocably I am in that man’s corner.

As I walk the short distance from Clapham Common tube station to Stephen and Anna’s lovely Victorian house, I remind myself that I have nothing to be ashamed of here. Yes, my relationship status will be a blow to my brother, but I know that the man I’m dating is the very best kind of man there is. I’d stake every last pound I have on the strength of Adam’s character.

I just have to find a way to persuade my brother, the victim of Adam’s ugliest, most depraved moment of existence, that one hate crime does not a man define .

Gen’s allowing me to start late tonight so I can have this chat, and she’s very sweetly told me not to turn up for work if I’m too upset afterwards. Adam has been texting me all evening with little messages of support, and belief in me, and gratitude that I’m taking this stand for him. I know how guilty he feels about every single part of this, and I hate it for him.

My stomach is in knots, but I’ve been careful to supplement the light dinner I managed to get down with a load of gummies. The last thing I need is a badly-timed hypo.

When I arrive, I find to my delight that Baby Chloe is still awake. My God, she’s divine. She’s had her bath and smells like baby shampoo and talc and heaven. She’s in the softest pale pink onesie, and she blows bubbles and clutches at my hair as I bounce her on my lap. Not only am I delighted to get my fix of snuggles, but I’m selfishly hopeful that her presence will make this conversation less intense than it might otherwise be.

Only one way to find out.

I feel sick as I clear my throat. Winky and Anna know I have something specific I want to talk to them about. God knows what they’re imagining, but it sure as hell isn’t the truth. I remind myself that there’s no way around this. Not only do I owe this conversation to my brother, but I owe it to Adam, and it’s that that spurs me on.

He’s fucking wonderful. He floors me with his kindness and steadfastness. Absolutely floors me. There is no way on God’s green earth that I’ll let him feel for a second that I’m ashamed of his past, that I’ll keep our relationship in the shadows.

Even as I prepare to tell my brother something that might devastate him, and even as I brace myself for the worst, this new and wonderful and magnetic North Star shines brightly in my soul, reminding me of my purpose and giving me the kind of courage I never, ever have in any confronting situation. God knows, I can’t even renegotiate terms with my fabric suppliers without baulking, and this is the most horrifying conversation I’ve ever had to have.

But it doesn’t matter, because my North Star is as follows:

My relationship with Adam, and his importance to me, deserves to be legitimised in every single way.

‘So, the reason I wanted to chat,’ I say, craning my head to keep my hoop earring away from Chloe’s grabby little paw, ‘is that I’ve met a guy, and it’s still new, but it’s getting serious really quickly.’

There’s a split second where Winky and Anna both look shocked, but then they grin at me.

‘But that’s amazing, sis,’ Winky says. ‘We thought it was going to be something bad. You had us worried there.’

I grimace. ‘It’s a bit more complicated than that.’

‘Is he treating you well?’ He asks quickly.

‘Yeah. He’s treating me like an absolute queen. Honestly, he’s amazing, and…’ I trail off with a little shrug. ‘He’s just amazing,’ I say lamely, making a mental note to pull myself together and ramp up my rhetorical skills.

‘Okay…’ Anna says, frowning like she’s trying to read between the lines. ‘That’s fantastic, right?’

My inhale is shuddery. Jesus, this is hard. It’s hard for me and for Winky and for Adam, and ugh. Just ugh . ‘He had a tricky time when he was younger,’ I said. ‘He’s the best man I’ve ever, ever met, but he had a really rough upbringing, and it made him do some terrible things.’ I sniff. Seriously, Natalie. Get it together. I glance up at them and see only sympathy on their faces.

‘He, um’—I stroke Chloe’s cheek, taking comfort in the velvety softness of her skin—‘he did, like, a really bad thing, and he—oh my God, Winky, I’m so sorry.’

Anna’s still trying hard to figure out what the hell is going on, but I see the second it lands with my brother. His face hardens instantly.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’

‘What?’ Anna asks him.

I shake my head. ‘I know how awful it—’ I begin, but he’s on his feet and looming over me. He starts shouting.

‘You’re seeing Adam Wright? You cannot be serious right now!’

‘Steve!’ Anna cries as I shrink back against the sofa, cuddling Chloe to me and pressing her little, soft head between my breast and my hand in the hope that she won’t hear her father screaming at her auntie. Winky’s the least aggressive guy on the planet, but historically there’s been no speedier way to wind him up than by mentioning Adam’s name, and I’ve never, ever seen him this furious.

He turns to his wife, gesturing at his prosthetic. ‘She’s fucking the guy who did this to me. Have you no self respect at all? Jesus fucking Christ.’ That last bit is to me.

‘Listen to me,’ I plead, but it’s eminently clear that my brother is not in listening mode. He’s spiralled so deep into his sympathetic nervous system that the blinkers—and the ear plugs—are well and truly on. It seems I’ve massively underestimated how triggering this revelation would be for him.

‘No.’ He points his finger at me. ‘You listen to me. What the bloody hell are you thinking? Meet him at your fancy sex club, did you? I cannot fucking believe that you’d spread your legs for the guy who put your own brother in hospital just because he’s bagged himself a few billion.’

‘Holy shit, babes,’ Anna says, getting off the sofa with a massive sigh. ‘Not in front of Chloe. And calm down, for God’s sake. You can’t talk to your sister like that.’

Clearly Anna has not received the memo that being told to calm down has never, ever resulted in anyone actually calming down. Not in the entire history of humankind.

I get his reaction, though. In my brother’s eyes, Adam Wright has been a two-dimensional, piece of shit bully for the past two decades. Just as he’s been in my eyes until very recently.

Anna walks over and takes Chloe gently out of my arms, and I let her. She presses her lips together sympathetically and gives me an encouraging little nod. I appreciate it. I suspect she doesn’t want to get too stuck into the discussion without a full set of facts, unlike my brother, who has no clue quite what an incomplete picture of Adam he’s working with here. The question is whether Winky will ever be willing to entertain some new perspectives.

‘I get it,’ I tell him softly. ‘But you couldn’t be more wrong about him. When he did what he did to you, which was awful—completely horrific—he was so messed up. His little sister had just died, like days before he attacked you, his mum had been arrested for causing her death… He was barely functioning, and he was in so much pain he didn’t know which way was up.’

Winky rolls his eyes. (I’ll never be the one to tell him it’s less effective when one of them is glass.) But there’s something there—a flash of surprise, maybe? I’d swear some of what I’ve just told him is new information for him.

‘Spare me the sob story,’ he says now. ‘I can’t believe you’d sell out on your family like this. It’s so fucking disloyal, it makes me sick to my stomach.’

I told myself before I came here that this was about Stephen, not me, and that I’d suck it up if he wanted to hurl insults, then I’d take them if it helped him to process. But I can’t deny it’s devastating to stand here and have him accuse me of selling out on our family, after every fucking thing we’ve been through together.

Jesus, there’s so much I want to say to him.

Mum adores him.

She visited him.

He saved my life.

He got you your job.

He got you your shot at a new eye, for Pete’s sake!

But I don’t. I won’t go there. And while I want Winky’s absolution with an intensity that’s terrifying, I don’t technically need it. This evening is about my doing the right thing and providing my brother with information he’s entitled to have.

It’s not about earning his blessing to date Adam.

I’m not sure what to do, really. This has landed badly, really badly, and I don’t want to turn and flounce out of the house, but I also don’t want to stay here and be a punching bag while Winky works through his anger. I have the upper hand here. I came here knowing the facts, and he’s been blindsided, therefore it’s right that I should hold space for him and not resort to insult-slinging.

‘Listen,’ I say, standing up and hauling my bag over my shoulder. ‘I know you’re angry. If you have questions for me, I’ll stay and answer them. But I get that you’re going to need some time with this, and I’d rather not stand here while you basically accuse me of being a gold-digging whore. You know where I am if you want to chat.’

I sling my coat over my shoulder, plant a soft kiss on Chloe’s silken cheek, and get the hell out of there.