Page 138 of The Grosvenor's Ghost
But a few minutes later, Digby does appear so I know Arthur can’t be that mad at me, and actually, I don’t think he was mad at me at all. I think he probably blames himself for the picture. His family will see and what will they say? What spanner will this throw in the works for them trying to set him up with Astrid?
I never really take those petty arguments to heart because we’ve been through a lot bigger things at an age when we shouldn’t have done.
“Athena told me what happened to her,” Digby tells me as I lay my head in his lap and he strokes my hair. “That’s shit.”
“She never tells anyone that.”
“I think she felt obligated to share some of the pain you’re going through with this. But Phoebs,” he looks down at me. “You’re not the first person and you won’t be last. By next week, there will be somebody else.”
“No,” I shake my head, staring at the floor. “The papers never publish things like this. This was personal, Digby.”
“Bliss?” He asks quietly.
“She’d never.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m certain.”
“But maybe she’s angry that you haven’t reached out.”
“It wasn’t her, Digby!” I raise my voice just slightly because I know it isn’t Bliss who’s done this and even though we don’t talk anymore, it’s not Digby’s place to start blaming her.
“Alright,” he continues stroking my hair. “Sorry.”
I stay with Digby for a while until I don’t know how many hours have passed and I feel my eyes getting heavy. I sit up, Digby’s nodded off so I leave him there to go and find Arthur.
Athena spots me from outside. “We’re getting dinner soon, what do you want?”
“Dinner?” I walk over, squinting. “What’s the time?”
“Gone six,” Connie tells me from his sun lounger. “I was gonna come and get you but you seemed pretty busy.”
“Fuck off. I feel asleep.”
He pulls his sunglasses down, winks.
I turn back to Athena. “Anything, I don’t mind. Just not fish.”
She nods, hoists herself out of the pool. “Come here.”
My feet burn against the stone outside so I quickly dash over to the sunbed next to Connie’s.
“How are you?” She asks.
I shrug, a bit helplessly. “Not great but what can I do?”
“I know how you feel,” she sighs. Been here, hasn’t she? “It will get old, though, Phoebs. It doesn’t feel like it now but it will.”
Connie clicks his tongue. “My Tweet’s already gone viral, so…”
Athena picks up the Saint Laurent beach ball floating in the pool and throws it at his head.
“That could’ve concussed me!”
“It’s a beach ball, you pussy,” I laugh.
“Yeah,” he sits up. “But it’s like the force,” he gestures with his hands. “Like, if you dropped a five pence coin off the Empire State Building—”
