Page 95 of Unbind

‘Your mum is a very generous, compassionate person,’ I tell her. ‘And somehow she found it in herself to see beyond my incredibly fucked-up persona and reach out.’

‘It wasn’t like that,’ Adelaide protests, shaking her head disapprovingly. ‘The entire trial was ridiculous. Obviously, Noel and I had no idea, until we sat through it, quite what Adam had been through. It was awful. Just awful. And somehow, that judge failed to show any regard whatsoever for the future of a young man who’d been dealt such a deeply, deeply tragic hand. So I sought out Anne, his lawyer, after he’d been sentenced, and I got her to persuade Adam to agree to a visitation.’

She leans over and pats my hand. ‘I wanted to look him in the eye and tell him that I knew that crime didn’t define him. I wanted him to know that someone on the outside saw him, and cared, and was sorry that he’d been let down so very badly.’

Nat is crying now, big tears rolling down her cheeks. She nods. ‘Good. That’s good. And did Dad and Winky know you were visiting him?’

Adelaide draws back. ‘God, no. Your father was so distraught—he blamed himself for putting your brother in harm’s way, as you know. Still does. And you were still so little, and Winky was healing. I didn’t want him to think for a moment that I wasn’t firmly in his corner.’

She pauses and takes a sip of her water, considering. ‘Iregret that, actually. I was trying to protect him, but really, I only perpetuated a silly myth that I should have tried to debunk. A myth that someone who commits a crime like that must be all evil. When everyone at this table knows that is categorically not true.’

Jesus fuck, my eyes are misting. I give us about three minutes before we’re all holding hands around the table and openly weeping.

‘Amen to that,’ Nat says with almost comedic emphasis. I release her hand and wipe the dampness from her nearest cheek.

Adelaide catches the gesture and smiles at us fondly. ‘And would you like to expand upon how you’ve come to join the Adam Wright fan club? Though, god knows, he’s an easy man to be a fan of. He’s such a good boy.’

I laugh, because it’s been a very long time since anyone has described me as a good boy.

Nat grimaces. I suspect she’s more worried about confessing her hypo attack than any other part of our story. Maybe I can help her downplay it.

‘It’s definitely an interesting story,’ I tell Adelaide, picking up my menu. ‘But how about we order before we get stuck into it? I’d feel a lot better if we got your daughter some lunch.’

56

NATALIE

For some reason, the relief I feel isn’t due to knowing that Mum is already a fan of Adam, that she’s one less family member to get on board.

Not even close.

Instead, it’s thanks to this incredible revelation that somehow, amid all the pain and panic and worry of Stephen’s horrific maiming, she found it within herself to recognise his attacker as a lost, terrified, betrayed boy and to do something about it.

Every time I imagine her visiting him in prison, the tears well up again. My brain is reframing what I know of Adam’s sentence, piece by piece. Yeah, it was horrific for him. It was a travesty, really. But he had my mother in his corner: one of the warmest, strongest, most compassionate people I know.

I hope that, over the years, the knowledge that one member of the Bennett family saw him and forgave him and was activelyrootingfor him gave him that extra reassurance that his future was worth fighting for. Thathewas worth fighting for.

What an extraordinary gift to have given him. What incredible generosity, humanity, to have shown him.

‘Oh, sweetheart,’ Adam says as I lose it again. He reaches into the middle of the table, where napkins and cutlery stand in shiny silver julep cups, and shakes out a linen napkin before pressing it gently to my face. ‘It’s okay,’ he says. ‘We’re all good. Everyone’s great. There’s nothing to be sad about, honestly.’

‘I know.’ I nod my head like a child. ‘I just can’t believe it. For some reason, the thought of you being there for him in that place makes me so emotional,’ I say to Mum.

She purses her lips sympathetically. ‘I take it you know the whole story, then?’

I nod again. ‘Yeah. And it makes me so angry.’

‘I’m glad,’ she says. ‘I’m glad you know what a good boy he is.’

That makes me giggle. ‘Sucha good boy,’ I say, wiggling my eyebrows at Adam, who’s looking very much as though he wants to put me over his knee here and now.

Fine with me.

‘But I’m still waiting foryourstory,’ Mum prompts gently. ‘Can I assume you met through Anton Wolff?’

My mouth falls open.

‘I always wondered if your paths would cross,’ she continues. ‘When you told me about that lovely lady, Gen, marrying him, it seemed such a coincidence to me that your boss was marrying Adam’s old boss, but I just put it down to one of life’s fun little morsels of happenstance.’

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