“We’ll find a way,” I said, sliding down onto the rug and onto one knee. “I give you my word, my liege.”
Petey smiled. It was small and sad—then cheeky. “I can’t even tell you how cringey that is. Every single time. Shivers.”
“I know. But it’s a whole thing now. I can’t stop it.”
Petey pulled me into a kiss that tasted like relief and melancholy.
“But I am going to have to go back to London next week,” he said. “I have to start looking for work. But I… don’t know when I’ll be back after that.”
My heart clenched. “I know.”
Petey tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “I’m not going to disappear on you, you know?” he said.
“Again, you mean?”
“Ouch.” He held out his little finger. “When it’s time to go, I swear, we’ll talk about it. Properly. Together.”
“Together,” I echoed, hooking my finger into his.
I crawled back up onto the sofa and slid in behind Petey, wrapping my arms around him, feeling him sink back into me—like we could stop time if we held each other tight enough.
Outside, preparations for the solstice were underway. Tomorrow, the estate would be full of people, full of noise, full of celebration. But for now, it was the two of us, and the heart-rending knowledge that sometimes love can’t solve everything—but it’s enough to keep you trying.
Chapter 47
Petey
Iwoke to an empty bed and a madhouse. The kitchen had been turned into a makeshift cafeteria for the solstice revellers, most of whom were still encamped on the Great Lawn. Bunny was ladling out soup into cups for grateful pagans. Spotting me, she waved me over.
“Peter, darling, would you like vegetable broth or miso?” she said as Karma shoved a recyclable heat-proof cup into one of my hands and a bread roll into the other. “They’re exactly the same, but with the miso you’ve got a one-in-fifty chance of scoring a tiny piece of tofu.”
I wasn’t awake enough for this. I opted for the miso. Mine was tofu-free. No favouritism here. Then I spied my gran making tea. She was in her eighties, had been up since before dawn, had climbed a hill to watch the sun rise, and now she was doling out cups of tea and chattering away to the punters like she’d spent her life running a greasy spoon. Where did she find the energy? I kissed her on the cheek, and she introduced me to a couple of pagans.
“This is my grandson. He’s going to be a duchess.”
The women giggled, and I rolled my eyes. “Don’t mind her. She’s off her meds.”
“You cheeky bugger!”
I had to get on. It was going to be a big day—and the filming wasn’t the only reason. William was going to meet my parents. Dread dragged through my guts like an anchor.
“Careful you don’t wear yourself out, Gran. You’re not as young as you used to be.”
“Don’t you worry about me. I’d much rather be doing this than rotting in front of a telly in prison.” The other women’s eyeballs boggled. “Besides, Bunny says she knows the perfect way for us all to unwind once we’re done.”
Why did that make me nervous?
I headed for the Old Coach House, where Haruto and Thandiwe were waiting for me. I’d asked them to stay an extra day to help me on this shoot. I was paying them cash in hand. They were both heading back to London and unemployment until their next gig came up, so they’d jumped at it. I was very grateful. The carriage court was filled with Range Rovers, trucks, and horse floats. In the stable yard, dozens of people were grooming horses, preparing them for the day’s big re-enactment. Some of the people were already wearing their Tudor-style liveries. I searched for William but couldn’t find him.
“If you’re looking for your fella,” a stranger called out, “he’s setting up tents in the field.”
I waved a bread roll at him in thanks and dashed back to the Old Coach House as quickly as I could without spilling my soup. As I marched through the door, two faces turned to look at me. Haruto and Thandiwe already had their cameras in hand, going through their checks.
“We need to start filming, guys,” I said. “It’s bonkers out there.”
“I know,” Thandiwe said. “Have you seen the Great Lawn?”
I hadn’t.
