We watch as the university dean calls out each graduate’s name one by one and they take to the stage to shake his hand, pose for a photo, and collect their scroll while their families watch on.
‘Harrison Hughes.’ A frown flickers across the dean’s weather-worn face.
Harrison stands and an insignificant flutter of applause follows. He might not have been charged with assaulting any of the women who came forward, but he’s clearly not as popular as he was.
Wanker.
It takes an eternity for the dean to work through all the graduates alphabetically.
I itch to make eye contact with Victoria. Ache to talk to her. Burn to touch her.
‘Victoria Sexton,’ the dean announces, and the audience goes wild. Victoria’s sisters’ shameless whoops and cheers ring out obtrusively in the hall crammed with conservative, stuffy old money. The kids stand on their chairs and jump like performing monkeys.
But none of them cheer louder than the little girl on my lap.
My legs force my chair backwards so I can stand, clutching Lily-May to my chest like a human shield. Like she might safeguard my heart if Victoria breaks it by not taking me back.
Victoria struts across the stage in a rich navy graduation gown and cap. Four-inch glittering heels click across the flooring.
Staring directly ahead at the scroll, she takes the dean’s hand and shakes it. I silently will her to look up. To look at me. To feel me. Feel the weight of the words I’m not proficient enough to articulate.
Her head lifts a fraction, curious gold-flecked eyes dart to her sisters.
Look at me, woman.
Let me tell you I love you.
Her head whips up and her gaze eventually locks with mine, before darting to Lily-May and back again
‘I’m so sorry,’ I mouth.
Her jaw drops. The scroll falls from her hand, the sound of it hitting the stage lost to the continuous thundering applause.
She shimmies to the edge of the stage and hops off, leaving everyone in the room flabbergasted.
‘Where is she going?’ Chloe shouts. The applause dies down while people watch and wait to see if Victoria has truly lost the plot.
‘Follow her,’ Ryan’s distinctive gravelly voice barks at the security.
Heads and necks crane as Victoria runs the length of the red-carpeted walkway. With Lily-May still in my arms, I jog towards her until we meet in the middle of the room.
‘I’m so sorry, baby.’ My palm cradles the back of her neck, tugging her towards me. ‘If you’ll have me, I swear I’ll never leave your side again. I fucked up. I’m so sorry.’
Victoria bites her lower lip, tears welling in her gigantic hazel eyes. Before she can say for sure either way, we’re set upon by two screeching four-year-olds, Bella and Blake.
‘You owe us a fiver, Uncle Archie.’
35
VICTORIA
He’s here. He’s actually here. And so is Lily-May.
But what does it mean?
‘Archie?’ My arms automatically go to Lily-May, but I don’t take her from him. Apart from the fact she’s too heavy for me, she clings to Archie like a koala clings to a tree.
‘Victoria, I’m so sorry, baby. I should never have left you.’ Archie’s palm cups my chin with a familiar tenderness I’ve been craving.
