Page 6 of The Grosvenor's Ghost
Evangeline drops her finger, convulses on the sofa, her entire body shaking and I want nothing more than to be able to go over to her and soothe her but she won’t let me. I know she wouldn’t.
After a second, she gets up, storms away and up the stairs.
Sebastian goes to get up but Mum shakes her head. “Don’t, please—give her a minute to calm down, Sebastian.”
She wondered if I was dead.
She’d thought that not only had she lost Theo but that she’d lost me, as well but I’d never—never fucking leave her permanently. Honestly, I think coming back to her hurt me more than coming back to Phoebe because Phoebe stayed with me, she chose to because I’d never let her leave but Evangeline, she never had that choice. Like I said, everything that’s happened to her, has happened against her will and that’s a pain you’ll bury me with.
I clear my throat. “What did she mean by five years?”
Five fucking years? Really?
Sebastian says nothing but he locks eyes with me, tells me without telling me that he’d been having an affair for the last five years.
It hits me like a truck.
Five years.
I wonder if he loved her. Can you love two people at the same time? Does it work? He loved Joanne, I know he did because I watched him look at her the same way Phoebe looked at me but then I also saw him look at Mia like that. People don’t possess two hearts, you can’t split it like that. You can’t hold one love for someone and a different kind of the same love for someone else in one heart. There’s only so much an organ that tiny can take.
But I mean, I have to give it to him, I can just about take a piss without it making front line news but still—how does Ev know about it?
“What’s happened?”
Dad rolls his eyes, sits up and gets straight to it. “Someone leaked it to the press, the whole thing—this morning. I mean, Jesus, Arthur, throw your phone into the Thames on your way over or something?”
“No, I just haven’t looked at it in a while, didn’t have a reason to.”
That and I couldn’t take anymore of seeing Phoebe with that absolute fucking tosser, Dicky or whatever he’s called.
“Right well,” Dad sighs. “We have statements written—”
“Hang on,” I pipe up. “This is his mess,” I nod at Seb. “Why are we getting involved?”
“Because we’re a family,” Mum sniffs. “We stand together.”
“Yeah,” Sebastian agrees. “I mean, how many times did we cover your arse?”
Pull back, look at him funny. “This isn’t about me.”
“No,” shakes his head. “But every time you messed up, we were all there, statements at the ready. Why can’t you do the same for me?”
“Because,” I stand up, pissed off now. “You had a choice! You chose to sleep with her!”
He throws his head back, laughs. “What? And you didn’t have a choice to not rack up every chance you got?”
“That isn’t the same and you fucking know it.”
“Arthur,” Mum butts in, touching my leg. “Sit down.”
“No—no,” I shake my head. “We’re tarnishing our names because of his mistakes!”
“We can sort this,” Dad adds in. “Money, statements—whatever it takes. We’ve cleared plenty of messes in the past, this one is no different.”
I run a hand through my hair, try to breathe but I can’t.
“How many fucking times did we do this for you, Arthur?” Sebastian shouts, standing up, both of us staring at each other, just the coffee table between us. “How many times did Dad pay off paparazzi? How many journalists lost their jobs because of you?”
