Page 29 of Save Me

“As if,” I reply. I doubt that Elaine’s wasted a single thought on our night together. More likely, it’s Alistair who can’t let it go because I’ve roused his brotherly protective instincts.

“I still can’t believe you shagged my sister.” He shakes his headand makes gagging noises. “Couldn’t you two get engaged at least? Then I could deal with the whole thing better, I think.”

I grin and box him on the shoulder. “If I ever get engaged, it certainly won’t be to help you sleep better at night.”

Alistair sighs in mock despair. Then he holds his phone out to me. “Well, can you at least help me decide which picture to use?”

He shows me two: one where he’s topless, lying on a lounger with his arms linked behind his head, and another in black-and-white, of him in a suit, a selfie taken in a mirror.

“The one on the lounger,” I say. “You’ve got too much on in the other one.”

“I like your team spirit, Beaufort.”

That ticks off the subject of Elaine for a while, and I get us each a fourth G&T. We clink glasses, and Alistair turns his attention back to his new hobby while I scroll half-heartedly through my emails.

I freeze as I see a meeting invitation from Beaufort Offices. I open it reluctantly. All it says is:Business dinner with sales management, Friday week. London, 7pm. Don’t be late.

In a flash, my good mood has vanished. An icy shiver runs down my spine as the memories of this afternoon’s row with Dad resurface.

You’re an embarrassment.

We have a reputation to uphold.

Stupid, childish boy.

I’m annoyed with myself for having flinched as he stepped toward me, hand raised, because I know better than that. Never show either weakness or fear in the presence of Mortimer Beaufort.

This meeting is a further punishment. He is perfectly well aware that it hits me harder than his words or fists could ever do.We had a deal—while I’m at Maxton Hall, he’ll leave me out of everything relating to the business. Making me come to this dinner is his way of telling me, “I’m in charge of your life, and if you don’t get your act together, it’ll be over before you know it.”

Frustratedly, I push the laptop away and head to the bar. I pour a tumbler of whisky and stare into the amber liquid for a moment. Then I turn and take it back to the sofa.

Alistair looks at me. There’s no more trace of the grin from earlier on his face. “Everything OK?”

I shrug.

I wanted Alistair to come over to help me forget the stuff with my dad—not to talk about it.

Alistair doesn’t insist, just holds out his phone. “I’ve got a match.” On the screen there’s a photo of a black-haired guy with plenty of muscle.

I slump down on the sofa until I can rest my head on the back. “What does his profile say?”

“That he needs someone to care for his heart. And his dick.”

“How creative.”

“Oh. And he’s just sent me a dick pic. How about telling me your namebeforeyou show me your genitals?” Alistair mutters, making me laugh against my will.

That’s one of the reasons Alistair’s one of my best friends. If I wanted to, I could talk to him about the stuff playing on a loop in my head. I could talk to him about everything—but I don’t have to. We’ve been mates so long that we’re in sync with each other, and, while we push each other’s limits, we know where they are, and we respect them. I don’t think I could build a friendship like this again with anyone else.

“Are you hungry?” I ask after a while.

Alistair nods, and I call down to the kitchen. The encounter with Dad left me with no appetite, so now I’m starving.

While we wait for someone to bring up the food, Alistair looks at more photos of semi-naked guys, and I scroll through my blog roll on my laptop. Apart from a few lacrosse sites and friends’ stuff, I’ve mainly been following travel blogs in the last few months. Reading the posts and looking at pictures of far-flung countries is the perfect way to switch off. I bookmark a few things for later—I’m not quite sober enough to take it in right now.

The school blog is saved on my list too. Only to laugh at really, but when I see the headline in my timeline, Ruby’s face pops up in my mind. My stomach gives a lurch, and I don’t know whether that’s down to my hunger, the booze, or something else entirely.

As if my index finger has a mind of its own, I click on the link.

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