‘Claire, this is my – this is Jacqueline,’ Luca said, as he drew her forward. Claire noticed Jacqueline’s hastily disguised wince at his use of her name. ‘Jacqueline, this is Claire.’
‘It’s lovely to meet you, Claire.’ Jacqueline smiled as she extended her hand.
‘Nice to meet you too,’ Claire said stiffly, as they shook. She felt Jacqueline scrutinising her closely, as if she was trying to figure something out.
‘I wish I could say I’ve heard a lot about you,’ she said, ‘but I’m afraid it’s not true.’
‘There’s not much to tell,’ Claire said, blushing. ‘We’re not really?—’
‘We haven’t been together very long,’ Luca interrupted,putting an arm around her waist and pulling her into his side.
Claire smiled helplessly, feeling wrong-footed.
‘This is my husband, Jonathan,’ Jacqueline said, as a tall, lean man joined them in the hall. Grey-haired and handsome, he was considerably older than his wife. ‘Jonathan, this is Luca’s… friend, Claire.’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ he said, as he shook her hand, eyeing her as curiously as his wife had done. ‘Hey, Luca,’ he said, pulling him into a hug.
‘Why don’t you take Claire upstairs, Luca, and show her where everything is?’ Jacqueline said. ‘We’re putting jackets in your old bedroom. Then come down and join everyone in the sunroom.’
Upstairs, Luca showed Claire into his room. While she ducked into the en-suite to fix her hair and makeup, he went to the window and stared out at the sea. He wished he could have brought Claire here and shown her all this as something that was a part of him, somewhere he belonged – the beautiful house, his clever, talented family and the lovely life they led. But it was nothing to do with him. He felt as much a guest as she was – just as welcome, just as superfluous, every bit as much of an outsider. It highlighted how little he had to offer on his own account, and it struck him how bare and bleak his life must seem to her, how rich hers was by comparison – not just materially, but in people who cared about her and would always be there for her.
He was beginning to regret insisting she come. He didn’t like who he was around Jacqueline and he didn’t want Claire to see him like that – so cold and churlish, so ungrateful to the woman who had rescued him. He knewhe owed her everything, and he had tried to make allowances and forgive her – not for not loving him, that wasn’t her fault: there hadn’t been much to love in the cold, scarred, battle-wounded boy she had brought home and, anyway, love wasn’t a decision you could make. But he did blame her for writing that book. It wasn’t because it came as a surprise to him that he was unloved, but until then it had been their secret, and keeping it was something they had done together. They’d worked as a team, the magician and her little accomplice – some sleight of hand here, a bit of misdirection there, and, ta-da! No one was the wiser. Until the day she broke faith with him and let everyone see behind the curtain, exposing him as the graceless impostor he really was.
‘This is an amazing house,’ Claire said, as she emerged from the bathroom. ‘Your parents must be loaded.’
‘They’re pretty well-off. Jonathan’s a surgeon, and Jacqueline’s a very successful journalist. So…’
‘Wow.’ She was looking troubled, probably wondering why his parents didn’t help him out when they were so wealthy.
‘And what about Ali?’
‘Ali has her trust fund. She has plenty of money of her own.’
‘Oh!’
‘They did the same for me,’ he told her. ‘I got money when I was twenty-one, same as Ali.’
‘What happened to it?’
He affected nonchalance. ‘I burnt through it pretty quickly. I spent most of it on drugs and generally getting wrecked.’
He waited for her reaction, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t seem shocked or disapproving, just looked athim calmly, accepting what he was saying without comment or judgement.
‘They were pretty decent about it,’ he continued. ‘Obviously they couldn’t keep giving me money to squander on drugs so they cut me off, but they paid to send me to a pretty high-end rehab. And they made it clear I was welcome to move back here once I’d sorted myself out.’
‘But you didn’t?’
‘No. I’d leeched off them long enough. Rehab was all about standing on your own two feet. I thought I should try that for a while.’
‘Good for you!’
It killed him that she actually looked proud of him. ‘Well, I’m not making much of a go of it.’ He gave a self-deprecating laugh. ‘I’m not exactly the poster child for turning your life around. You’ve seen where I live.’
‘But you’re standing on your own two feet. You’re not relying on anyone else for handouts when you could easily have moved back here and continued to take money from your parents. And you’ve got off drugs and stayed clean. I think that’s pretty admirable.’
‘Less admirable than not getting fucked up in the first place.’
‘I’m not so sure.’
