‘OK. So, you need to keep what I’m about to tell you under your hat. Or maybe under your fur. You’ll be the only living being at Chateau les Champs d’Or to know who I really am.’
Johnny felt marginally better after a cold shower. More in control. Talking to Fran had steadied him, had given him an opportunity to be more objective than he’d managed in the night, his mental turmoil heading into some shadowy places inthe depths of those dark hours. Gave him the chance to be more objective, actually, than he’d been in a very long time.
The conversation with Fran had given him the chance to start deciding what was right for him. It was possible he’d lost himself at some point over the last fifteen years, possible he hadn’t ever really known who he was, or what he wanted.
Life had seemed to flow, one decision or action leading to the next, then the next. Nothing had been planned, it just happened. Johnny supposed that while everything was going well, with the success of the business and his life with Natalie, the arrival of Estelle – all the positives had buried the niggling doubts, had gagged them and shoved them into a dark corner.
It had been Noel’s idea to set up Taylor Made Wine, and the idea was as good as anything else Johnny had planned to do with his life back then. Growing a business made sense, of course it did, which was why Johnny hadn’t questioned his brother’s ideas or countered any of it. Bigger equalled better equalled more income, more kudos, more … well, more everything. But there had been a cost, one Johnny hadn’t seen at the time, or perhaps had chosen to ignore.
Somehow, the situation had become far harder once Natalie was on the scene. He’d fallen hard for her, had kept her to himself until he’d been sure about his feelings. But something had changed in his relationship with Noel once Natalie was around. But by that point, the business was doing far too well to consider breaking away. And by the time Natalie was pregnant, Johnny was up to his neck in Taylor Made Wine, determined to make it as successful as possible for the family Natalie was in the process of creating.
By then, Johnny was so far in, he’d lost sight of anything other than what was right in front of him, the grind of work, the exhaustion of a new baby, the constantly abrasive and yetsymbiotic relationship with the brother who’d always been there for him, and vice versa.
He supposed nothing would have changed if he’d done a better job of keeping Natalie happy. Life would have continued to trundle along the tracks they’d all made, and she would never have needed to look to Noel. Noel wouldn’t have had the opportunity to …
Anger prickled along Johnny’s spine. An explosion of swear words broke the silent majesty of the turret room as Johnny expressed in no uncertain terms what he’d like to do to Noel.
Then another thought took its place. What would have happened if Natalie’s affair remained a secret? Johnny would have kept the life he had, the life he thought he wanted. But would he have spent his whole life cuckolded by his own brother?
‘Fuck’s sake.’ Johnny ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Whichever way he looked at this, the shite was knee-deep.
Then an even worse thought occurred to him. A thought that propelled Johnny from the bombsite of a suite, pausing only to grab his keycard as he headed for Noel’s room.
Chapter 20
Johnny tugged the ‘do not disturb’ notice from the door handle of Noel’s room and pounded on the door. He intended to disturb Noel as much as necessary to find out what he wanted to know.
The seconds passed and Johnny became increasingly irritated, pressing his face to the crack where the door and its frame met as he shouted to Noel.
‘Let me in, Noel. I know you’re in there.’
A myriad of fumbling noises from inside the suite had Johnny taking a step back, but it still took Noel an interminable amount of time to manage to unlock and swing wide the door.
Johnny pushed past him with a dramatic surge of energy, heading deep into the room as Noel closed the door and turned, leaning against it for support.
It was gratifying to see that Noel looked utterly shit. A slight blackened colour to the corner of an eye indicated Johnny’s attack the previous evening hadn’t been completely fruitless. It went some way to balance with the fresh abrasion on his own jaw, with its blossoming palate of rosy colours and the jolt of pain accompanying any attempt to touch it. And he was dressed, which was one up on Noel, still naked apart from yesterday’s boxers.
‘Let me get a shirt,’ Noel croaked through dry lips, pulling a T-shirt from a drawer and pushing himself into it.
‘When did it start?’ Johnny said, crossing his arms and fidgeting from one foot to the other.
‘Come again?’
‘When did you start sleeping with my wife, you moron?’
Johnny was amazed Noel wasn’t more prepared for this, for these questions. Surely it would have been something he would have wanted to know, if the shoe had been rammed onto the other foot. His brow creased, his impatience spilling over. ‘It’s a straightforward enough question, Noel. When. Did. It. Start?’
And still Noel hesitated, licking dry lips and running a hand through his bedraggled thatch of hair which would have given Boris Johnson’s a run for his money. For a second, Johnny feared his brother might be about to vomit, his skin paling as sweat beaded on his forehead. Or maybe it was the pressure of the question, of the truth Johnny feared the most about to be unveiled.
‘Why does it matter so much?’
Noel’s non-committal answer infuriated and frustrated in equal measure. Johnny needed to know, and he needed to know right now.
‘Let’s try a simpler question then, fuckwit. How long have you been sleeping with my wife? Months? A year? Years?’ Johnny’s voice cracked over the last word. ‘Please just tell me, Noel – is there a chance you could be Estelle’s father?’
Johnny searched Noel’s expression, scouring it for information. Had the gravity of his questions managed to percolate through, was that the reason Noel paled?
Despite everything, Johnny clung to the belief that this, if nothing else, would resonate with the brother alongside whom he’d been through so much. The brother who had supported him during his darker times and whom Johnny had supported his entire life, a brother who had pushed and driven both of them forward in the world, the same man who’d finally overstepped the bounds of what Johnny could tolerate. But even after everything, surely Noel would be on the same page as him with the sheer horror Johnny was currently experiencing. The feelingof an ice-cold fist located somewhere inside his guts, its grip hard and twisting and unwilling to loosen its hold, possibly ever again.
