Page 108 of I Knew You Were Trouble

‘I wouldn’t let him. I didn’t want to hear it – too depressing.’

‘And now?’ I ask.

‘Now… maybe it’s better to know,’ she says, resigned.

‘Well then, his fatherisdeceased, of course – hence the enormous inheritance – but his mother lives on a beautiful estate in Scotland with three dogs and live-in staff. It’s likely she has no idea what Jon is up to.’

‘If my son ever pulled anything like this,’ says Margot, ‘I’d drag him through the streets by his ear and give him a right bollocking in the town square.’

‘How veryVictorianof you,’ I quip, and she chuckles.

‘Kate,’ says Adriana, and I look over. ‘What’s she like?’

It takes me a second to grasp who she’s asking about, because my first thought is of Jon’s mother.

‘You mean Lucia?’

She nods.

‘Different – tous, I mean. Opposite to you in looks – petite, dark hair – and polar opposite to me in personality.’

‘So, he doesn’t have a type,’ Margot observes.

‘Not as far as I can tell,’ I reply.

‘Just gullible women,’ says Adriana, her lips flattening into a peevish line. I don’t disagree and, once again, I feel a stab of regret for being so willing to swallow his lies.

‘But other than that,’ Adriana adds, ‘Jon must like variety.’

‘It appears that way,’ I reply. ‘Even the persona Poppy’s playing is quite distinctive, a deliberate tactic that seems to have worked.’

‘Do you think this will all be over soon?’ Adriana asks wearily.

‘It should be. Poppy says she’s making progress.’

Adriana clasps her hands behind her neck, the way Willem does when he’s frustrated, then expels a long groan of a sigh. ‘I just want this to be over. I want to confront Jon, revel in seeing the terror on his face, then move on.’

‘I hear you,’ says Margot.

Adriana drops her hands and looks at Margot, the left corner of her mouth lifting. ‘Yes, thishasbeen hard on you,’ she says, her lips twitching.

Margot swats the air. ‘You know what I mean. I just feel for you –bothof you. It’s a horrible situation and neither of you deserve to be in this position.’

‘Thanks, Margs,’ I say.

I’m actually glad she’s here, despite my initial shock at her showing up when I asked her not to –andat whatever’s going on between her and Adriana.

The doorbell sounds, startling all of us, and Adriana leaps up to answer the door. There’s a polite exchange in the entryway, then Lucia’s larger-than-life presence fills the vast room, with Adriana coming up behind her.

Lucia drops a leather duffle bag on the floor and before I have a chance to greet her and introduce her properly, she looks directly at Margot. ‘Don’t tell me you’re number four?’

Margot presses her hand to her chest. ‘Me? God, no. I wouldn’t touch that prick with a ten-foot pole. I’m the cheer squad.’

Lucia sniggers, then crosses the room, her hand outstretched. ‘Lucia Rossi. Number three.’

‘Margot Whitaker – number one’s cousin,’ she replies, jerking her head in my direction.

‘Ahh, I see,’ says Lucia with a guarded smile. Her gaze drops to the half-drunk drinks on the table. ‘So, what are we having?’ she asks no one in particular.

---