He sniffs and pulls out a white handkerchief, blowing his nose as the kettle begins to sing. I turn away not sure what to say, pouring hot water over teabags in mugs.
‘So, what are you going to do about this?’
‘Whatever I can,’ I reply without turning around. ‘She thinks we’re not suited but she’s wrong. I just feel like I have no say in the matter. Like I’m tangled in these silky strings, and all I want to do is let her tighten them.’
‘Not suited, yet she’s still around?’
‘I’ve made it difficult for her to do anything else,’ I admit.
‘Given her the illusion of choice? I’m sure it’s not that bad.’
‘You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew what I’d done.’
Lies and manipulation.
‘Unless you’ve locked her in the cellar, I’m sure whatever you’ve done is justified.’ There speaks a parent. It’s hard to criticize when I know I’ll be exactly the same. Worse probably. ‘Sun Tzu would say—’
‘I know; all’s fair in love and war.’
‘That’s not what I was going to say, even if it’s true. Juliet would’ve stayed married to someone else if I hadn’t fought for her,’ he says quietly. I still, the tea stained teaspoon suspended in mid-air in my hand. He rarely invokes her name, almost like it costs him too much. ‘So, the advice I give to you, is go forth.Let your plans be dark and as impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt. Make the woman yours. What’s her name, by the way?’
‘Miranda.’ I bring over his tea and place it in front of him, turning the handle to around.
‘Welcome to the family, Miranda,’ he says raising his cup, as though the battle were already won.
34
Miranda
Two daysafter James buys Harry the Haribo and me a house, I move into his.
The day after that, I find out he’s paid over six million pounds for the property he’s referring to as beingchocolate box cute.
That’s an awful lot of chocolates.
Something else that’s sits heavy on my chest is the fact that we haven’t had sex since bunny-gate. I’m not sex crazed, at least not yet. Okay, maybe just a little bit. And I feel too awkward to broach such a sensitive subject.
If he wanted me, wouldn’t he say? Up until now, our movements have been as natural as the tides. But I’ve tried to press these worries and more to the back of my mind. And this week, I’ve been too tired to think of this house as a symbol of our differences because I’ve spent all week fighting wedding fires in preparation for tomorrow.
Tomorrow is the big day; Beckett and Olivia are getting hitched.
Again.
And I will no longer be thegetting hitched bitch.
‘You really have worked too hard this week,’ James says, greeting me at the door.
‘I’m getting paid for doing a job and I want to do it well. Besides, we’re at the pointy end of the stick now.’
‘You’ve done too much. You look exhausted.’
‘Well, that’s because I’m pregnant.’
‘No, that’s because you’ve been traipsing a warehouse looking for the correct shade bonbonniere, whatever they are.’ He takes my coat by the shoulders, easing me out of it.
‘Heather squealed.’ I try not to roll my eyes. Honestly, between the two of them, it’s like being bullied by polite thugs. ‘And it was boxes I was looking for,forthe bonbonniere. I’d ordered some bespoke, but the supplier called this afternoon to say they couldn’t make them in time. Something to do with their glitter supply. I have two hundred handmade cookies in the shape of an X and O, plus some little E-V ones for E-Volve, but nowhere to put them. I had to find something.’
‘I could’ve suggested somewhere for them,’ he says, dropping my coat to the table. ‘I’d have stuffed them down Beckett’s throat. Because you know where they’ve been all day? At a day spa.’ Fists on his hips, his words are accompanied by a very pissed off expression.
