Page 93 of Unbind

‘Well, that’s unfortunate, because you definitely will. Maddy says you’re invited to her baby shower when she has one, and she’ll introduce the two of you then.’ I extricate thebook from a tangle of stockings and hand it over triumphantly. It’s calledFind Your Zen,its cover featuring a stunningly beautiful brunette who looks exactly like a Charlie’s Angel and also exactly how I imagine Maddy will look in twenty-five years.

Lucky Future Zach.

Maddy tells me that Verity’s next book will be calledFind Your Driveand is all about reigniting menopausal and post-menopausal women’s libidos. She said her mum has not only been asking her the most horrifying questions about how she and Zach keep things interesting but has been angling for an invitation to Alchemy. While the idea of Maddy explaining St Andrew’s crosses and spanking to her mum is beyond hysterical, I’ve already decided that’s one book my mum willnotbe getting a signed copy of.

She and Dad can work that stuff out for themselves, thank you very much.

After Mum’s finished squealing over the book and the prospect of toasting Maddy’s unborn child over mimosas with Verity herself, I lead her over to the racks of samples to show her the wisteria collection we’re producing for spring.

‘This is just stunning, darling,’ she says, holding up the dress with the gold hardware and engineered panels that Adam was so complimentary about when we were in Omar Vega’s studio. ‘What an absolute showstopper. Where are you shooting it?’

‘We’re just doing a studio shoot for spring,’ I say brightly. ‘But we’ve got a guy making us a backdrop of silk wisteria. It should be lovely.’

That’s what I tell myself, anyway. The truth is that a studio shoot is far more cost-effective than a location shoot. Not only is the hire fee way cheaper, but we can get far more shots under our belt in a day in front of a single backdropthan we can if our photographer needs to set up for each shot in a different location.

With cash being this tight, dropping an additional ten grand or more on a location shoot is simply not an option, so we need to get creative. While I’d love to sell the dream properly, I’d settle for just selling clothes. I try not to think about Omar Vega’s latest shoot: zany, futuristic-style dresses shot on location at Kensington Palace. Obsessing over his probable shoot budget is plain unhelpful (though I bet Adam would spill the numbers if I asked).

I suspect Mum can read right between the lines of my phony perkiness, but she just smiles and says, ‘I’m sure that will look lovely, darling. And isn’t this printwonderful?’

‘I can definitely find a spare metre to knock you up a littlecarré, Adelaide,’ Evan tells Mum, referring to the French word forsquareand the term Hermès uses for its scarves. I roll my eyes. He’s a pretentious arse-licker, and I adore every bone in his body.

‘Really?’ Mum breathes, fingering the dress reverently. ‘Oh God, I’d love that. But isn’t it a bit thick for a scarf?’

‘We’re printing it in twill, too,’ he says with a wink at her. ‘For these shirts, see? Ooh—I’ll get that. You ladies carry on.’

Thatis the doorbell.

‘Thanks, hon,’ I tell him, pulling the wisteria shirt out so Mum can admire the hidden buttonholes. I’m hoping to steal this sample for myself once we’ve shot it. It’s to die for.

It’s not until I hear the jumble of male voices and the clatter of footsteps that I belatedly understand what’s happening on the stairs. And it’s already far too late when I spin around to find the very fine and most unwelcome figure of Mr Adam Wright standing in my studio.

55

ADAM

Up until I register the two women in front of me, my brain has been preoccupied with whether I can persuade Nat to believe I was just passing by. I’m holding in my gloved hand a takeaway box from an organic cafe down the road that’s stuffed to the gills with harissa chicken, grains, and some kind of miso-roasted aubergine thing that looks delicious.

It’s not that I believe my girlfriend willingly skirts danger with her eating habits, but I know how fully immersed she can get in her job. We’re both workaholics, but only one of us has a body that attacks its own insulin supply, so here we are.

Now, though, I register the panic on Nat’s face at the same time as I spot the slow recognition on Adelaide’s face. After all, I’ve changed a lot more than she has. I’m no longer a shaven headed, angry kid.

‘Sorry, Nat,’ Evan says breathlessly from behind me.

‘Mum, I—’ Nat begins, her beautiful face stricken.

‘Hi, Adelaide,’ I say warmly.

‘Adam?’Adelaide asks incredulously.

Nat’s head whips from me to her mother.‘What?’

Since meeting Nat, I’ve assumed she isn’t aware of the steps her mum took to build a relationship with her son’s attacker all those years ago. She’s certainly never mentioned it. And, given Adelaide’s insistence at the time that her visits weren’t something she was disclosing to her family, I’ve never had any reason to think she’d make her daughter aware of them.

Therefore, I’ve never so much as hinted at the extent to which Adelaide has helped me. There was a moment the other night, when Nat was fretting about how to sit her brother down and come clean about our relationship. She mentioned that she might sound her mum out first, and I made some vague comment to the effect that her mum might be more amenable than Stephen. Nothing more than that.

So when Nat sees me grinning at her mother and Adelaide positively beaming at me, I get the feeling that this will be a bombshell of epic proportions for her.

Adelaide, it seems, is handling my appearance far better than her daughter. ‘Oh my God!’ she cries, coming towards me, her arms already outstretched. ‘How on earth are you here? Do you twoknoweach other?’

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