Page 32 of Finding Jacob
I chuckled. Nathan had always been the practical one.
We arrived in South East London and Nathan tutted at the trash and wheel-less cars that lined the street. Jules was an international model, not quite supermodel status, but not far off. Why she chose to live in theshithole, as Nathan called it, baffled me. Forget the waste and druggies on each corner, I couldn’t imagine the place was safe at all.
Angela answered the door, a friend of Jules, so she said, and showed us into the living room. Jules was in a chair with her feet on a stool and an ice pack on her forehead. Beside her was an overflowing ashtray and a glass that smelled suspiciously like whisky.
“Hey,” she said, opening one eye.
“In pain or hungover?” Nathan asked. She opened her other eye.
Not seeing me chastising him, she sat up. “Pain, thank you for asking.” There was a snippiness. “And this helps.” She picked up the glass and as if in defiance, downed it in one.
I sat on the vacated footstool. “What happened?” I asked gently.
“I need to be in therapy,” she answered.
“Yes, you do. But what happened?”
She slumped back in the chair and sighed, covering her eyes with her arm. I didn’t need to look at Nathan to know he would have rolled his eyes at the drama.
“We got drunk, he gotarseholeyand we argued. I left, he followed, and because I wouldn’t argue with him, he pushed me to the ground. This,” she said, pointing to her face, “is the bastard kicking me.”
“He did what?” I asked, hearing what she’d said but stunned by it.
“Yep, he kicked me in the face. In front of his security as well.”
“Bloody hell, Jules. Did you tell the police this?”
She sat up and stared at me, raising one eyebrow in astonishment that I’d even asked the question, I imagined.
“Okay, I’m guessing not. What do you want to do about it?”
“There isn’t anything I can do. But I promise you, it’s over between us.”
I had heard that before. “I’ll arrange for you to have a break, book yourself in somewhere. But, Jules, I can’t keep doing this. I’ve always supported you, but your drinking is out of control, and you are losing bookings. I’m losing clients.” I didn’t want to come over too hard because I knew the reason she drank.
“I know. I’ve let you down, again. I can only tell you that I know I need help, and this time I’m determined.”
I nodded and stood. She stood and reached out for me. I hugged her and felt her body sag as if in relief. “You don’t need this on top of everything else, do you?” she said.
I stepped back and smiled at her. “No, I don’t. But I care about you. Last chance, Jules. Get yourself in therapy and I’ll cover for now.”
Nathan and I left, though not until after a scowling match between them.
“She has you wrapped, my friend,” he said when he opened the rear door for me. “You are way too soft.”
I knew I was, and maybe it was the baby hormones, but I felt sorry for her. Alcohol was a killer.
“I’m starving,” I said, realising I hadn’t eaten at all that day. “In fact, I think I’m going to...”
Nathan swerved the car to the side of the road, and I opened the door. I left what little I had in my stomach in the curb.
“Is that normal?” he asked. I took the tissue from his hand and uncapped the bottle of water in the side door.
“What, being sick?”
“Morning, noon, and night,” he replied.
I shrugged my shoulders. “I’ve never done this before, so I don’t know. I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow, so I’ll ask.”
