Page 124 of Unapologetic Love Story

‘I’m dabbling with the idea of writing a piece about her. Since the Mondays announcement, she’s come to my attention. And getting information from her was like pulling blood from a stone. Plus, she was horribly vulgar.’

Good, Tom thought. ‘She’s the best person I know. Print that.’

‘I— Excuse me?’

‘She is,’ Tom said, speaking slowly, ‘the best person I know. Not the best woman I know. Not the best neurodivergent person I know. All of the above. Categorically, just the best person I know. She’s going to win at least one of those awards, and then she’s going to fly. So, print crap about her at your own risk. Because I’ve never much cared for the whole “King of Cancel Culture” nonsense, but if I see one disparaging word written about that woman in your column, you’ll have a war on your hands.’

Amanda spluttered, then did exactly what she was trained to do when challenged for her bile. ‘What about freedom of speech?’

‘Exactly. You’ll get the full force of my freedom of speech. I look forward to it, Amanda.’

He threw the phone down. Then lifted it up so he could slam it down once again. He dialled Mirren’s number and tried to calm down.

Now, as he waited for his sister to pick up her phone, he saw everything he needed to do mapped out before him. A neat little list of atonements that he would do, with or without the reward of her love. He was sick with it. Ill with his own feelings. He wished she’d slept in his bed just once. So he could have some memory of her there. He’d found himself getting sentimental over a smudge of red lipstick on his face, left over from that horrible night.

The phone continued to ring, and he grew even more resolute.

‘Mirren?’ he said into his phone when she answered. ‘I need your help.’

Solana and Raina were at Pepper’s house as she chased away an entire vlogging crew from the doorstep.

‘For the last time,’ Pepper screamed, pulling hairspray out of her bag and waving it around, ‘this is private property. Get your own pink door.’

‘Are you the girl from The Disability Track?’ one of the vloggers asked in delight, ignoring Pepper and staring at Raina.

‘Yeah,’ she said, surprised.

‘Good luck tonight!’

‘Thank you.’

They grabbed their things and scampered away before Pepper could blind them with hairspray, or Solana could knock them out with the mini-vacuum she was brandishing. Raina just laughed.

Once inside, she took a breath. This was the night. A night which would have seemed like a complete impossibility a year ago. She felt mostly elation. Excitement. Nerves.

And the tiniest regret that the person she really wanted to share it with wasn’t going to be there.

‘We have two hours to get ready, so you need to blow-dry your hair and get in the shower and then the chair!’ Solana ordered.

Raina gave her a mock salute and moved up the stairs, smiling as she entered Pepper’s room to find all of her things laid out, including the dress. As she was stripping out of her workout clothes, she spotted a beautiful box. It had her name written on it in large, looping letters. She lifted the lid and gasped.

The shoes from Liberty. Glistening in soft tissue paper, pink and silver and ready to hold her four inches up from the ground. She touched them in reverence and lifted a printed card which was nestled between the two of them.

For Raina, with love.

‘Pepper!’ Raina shouted, never taking her eyes from the shoes. ‘You shouldn’t have!’

When the three of them reached the Southbank Centre and its red carpet, Pepper and Solana were experts at moving Raina where she needed to go. After saying goodbye to Billy the cab driver, they helped Raina to the private entrance of the enormous hall that sat on the south of the Thames, like a great glass case. Their names were checked off the list, only the three of them, Raina noted. Solana had obviously done as she’d promised and called ahead to say Tom wouldn’t be attending.

She ignored the pang of sadness and looked ahead to the modest but active red carpet.

Maybe he’s inside, a sad little voice whispered. Maybe he came anyway.

‘Please make sure the talent is always first to walk,’ the man with the clipboard said.

Raina could feel her sister’s hands and could make out Pepper beaming at her.

‘Go on, talent.’