Page 45 of Unwanted
The low ringing was still there in my ears as I stood in Heath’s kitchen, having been told that the woman I was in love with had suffered persistent neglect and abuse throughout her entire childhood. Bile rose up to my throat, but I choked it down. I felt everyone’s attention directed at me after Heath finished his gruesome recounting, and it was like the walls were closing in. I turned and stalked out of the kitchen to the front door, wrenched it open then didn’t stop until I was stood next to my car. A huge wave of fury swept over me at the thought of Verity back then, and I let out a shout of frustration. The nearest available solid object was my car, and I slapped both hands down on the bonnet, hard enough for the sound to echo around the drive, and then leaned into it with my head bowed between my arms.
“Yup, that about sums up how I felt when I found out too,” I heard Yaz’s voice from behind me and I spun to face her.
“Howcouldthey?” My voice was low, and saturated with such absolute fury that it didn’t sound like my own.
“Some people should not have children.”
I shook my head. “Heath and Verity’s parents arenotpeople, they’remonsters.” I let out a long breath, my anger now slowly seeping away to be replaced with desperate sadness and a feeling of complete impotence at not being able to rewind time and put a bloody stop to what Heath and Verity went through. I collapsed against my car, sliding down the chassis to sit on the block paving of the driveway. Yaz walked over to me and sat right beside me. When I spoke again my voice was much softer. “How did they survive it and come out so… normal?”
“I’ve often wondered about that,” Yaz said. “They had each other. In their very early years they had a nanny, until she was sacked for alerting social services. I think there were some lovely teachers at their prep school and then at Downingham – your dad included. Even if he did back off when the Markhams threatened him. And really, they’re just remarkable people.” She shifted so that she was facing me then and put a hand on my forearm. “Don’t think that they’re not damaged though. Heath had so many demons he very nearly drove me away in the beginning. Loving them isn’t easy because I think, deep down, they don’t really believe theydeserveto be loved.”
I let out a low, pained chuckle. “And here I was thinking that Verity was sick with grief over her father. Christ, was I barking up the wrong tree.”
“I think there was some grief there, weirdly, but when he died it stirred up all the old feelings as well. They had to go up to the house and sort through it, arrange the funeral, see all their parents’ old cronies at the funeral. Their bloody mother put in an appearance.”
“Please tell me the mother’s not as bad as the father.”
Yaz huffed. “Well, she was good at putting on a front apparently. Better than the dad – he really couldn’t give a fuck. That’s all gone to shit now though. She was a bit of a mess at the funeral. Listen, I think information pertaining to the Markham parents should be rationed for you at the moment. You don’t want to keep bitch-slapping the shit out of your hundred-grand BDE car.”
“God, how could I have not known any of this? I met Verity when she was fourteen. I always just assumed she was as over privileged as the rest of that lot. How could I never have realised something was wrong?”
“Harry, I’ve known the twins for over twenty years too, and it was only when their dad died that this all came out as far as I was concerned. And that was only because Heath got shitfaced at the pub and spilled the beans.AndI had my parents to pump for information. Heath and Verity befriended Max at school and they used to spend holidays with us. I was just a child at the time and it was completely lost on me why they would always be cramming into our semi rather than staying in their posh stately home. The only reason that Mum and Dad took them home in the first place was because their folks didn’t turn up to collect them at the end of their first summer term. Dad says that the Markhams didn’t even seem to notice that their kids weren’t coming home anymore. They certainly never acknowledged it.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself for not seeing what was going on. Sometimes we only see what we want to see, and Verity is a hard nut to crack. Don’t give up on her though.” Yaz gave my arm a squeeze and I looked down at her face. “I’ve never seen Verity as happy as she is with you. She’s always focused on sorting out everything and everyone – she helped Mia get back on her feet, she supported Heath through his problems and made sure I didn’t give up on him. Verity has always pushed for Heath to get his happy ending, but she has never shown any sign of reaching for her own. It’s like she’s her own last priority. She holds up that business even while Max does his best to try and fuck it up. She deserves her own slice of happiness. She deservesyou.”
Before Yaz had finished her sentence I jumped up off the ground and started walking to the driver’s side of my car. By the time I had the key in the ignition Yaz was standing up herself and peering at me through the passenger window.
“What are you doing?” she asked as I lowered the glass.
“I’m going to need the address of that lawyer in London. You get Heath to text it to me.”
She blinked at me in surprise. But as I was pulling out of the driveway her face broke into a smile.
Chapter22
Je suis desolé
Verity
A trickle of sweat ran down my back and I started to feel a little sick with the heat. They’d kept me out here for nearly five hours now. The policeman guarding the exit to the drive wouldn’t even let me go and get some water. And, to make matters worse, I had no sun cream on. The very little shade there had been on the driveway was now non-existent in the midday sun. They’d taken my phone and my passport, so even if I wanted to call somebody I couldn’t.
Maybe I should have told Heath this time?
Then I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. I was used to clearing up this type of mess. Heath was finally happy – he didn’t need this shit leaking into his life. No, it was better that I was the one sweating on the driveway of a stupid bloody villa in France. Better for me to be the one guarded by police like a criminal. We should have sold the villa months ago, but clearing out our parents’ massive property up north had been traumatic enough without adding this place into the mix.
“Verity?”
I spun round and my eyes went wide when I saw Harry standing at the gated entrance. For a moment my heart leapt with the relief and sheer joy of seeing him, but then the consequences of his being here crashed over me and I started to panic.
“Harry? Wh–what are you doing here? How did you–?”
Harry glanced at the police officer guarding the driveway and, without missing a beat, strode over to me and snatched me up in a tight hug. I was shocked into silence as I blinked up at him when he pulled back but kept me in the circle of his arms.
“What’s happening?” I whispered, too exhausted and dehydrated to muster up the strength to resist leaning into him.
“I’m a dickhead and I’m sorry,” he told me, and I frowned in confusion.
“I– Wh–what are you talking about?”
