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“Where is he?” I ask Percival, cutting his small talk short.
A sigh tugs at his shoulders, making him hunch slightly as he tells me, “Something came up last night, and he’s been in meetings all day today.”
“I see.” I start up the stairs with him beside me.
It feels as though all eyes are on me when we reach the landing, and Percival catches my hand before I go up the next flight of stairs.
“The Duke asked me to inform you that you’ll be playing in the lounge tonight.” The soft smile he gives me is filled with regret, and that tells me all I need to know.
This is how Henry plans on ending things. He’s handing me down to the members of his club. He’s casting me out, and I have no idea why.
“Did I do something wrong?” My throat cracks at the sudden swelling of my throat.
All my emotions are running ragged through me. Confusion, disappointment… I really thought he might love me. Tears prick the back of my eyes as I follow Percival through to the lounge.
A chair sits by the piano, and as I follow Percival to it, Mary gives me a small wave from where she sits at the bar, waiting for her next lay.
“I’ll come and get you when you’re done,” he tells me with a faint smile. “If you need anything, just ask one of the girls. I know you’ve met Mary.” He nods at her. “It’ll all work itself out.”
The parting statement isn’t the answer I was looking for, but at least now I know that I’m in the bad books. It’s just a pity I don’t know what I’ve done. Putting my bag down on the floor beside the piano, I rest my violin case on the chair waiting for me.
Maybe I should leave now. Spare myself the humiliation of his rejection. I’m about to pick my stuff up and go when Mary comes over.
“You look like you’re about to bawl,” she says, handing me the same drink that Hannah made me last time.
“No, I’m…I’m fine.” It’s a lie I try to cover up with a long gulp of the beverage she gave me. I know I shouldn’t, but one drink isn’t going to be what kills me, and maybe it might settle my nerves and give me some gumption to carry on.
“Don’t ever let them see your pain. Not the real one anyway.” Her soft hand strokes my face before she fluffs my hair and then uses the back of her finger to dry my lashes.
“We all start up there.” My stare follows the flick of her eyes to the ceiling before she adds, “And then we end up down here. I tried to warn you, Evie. I did.”
“You did?” How did I miss it? Why didn’t I listen?
Mary nods. “They’re not our friends or our lovers. They’re animals,” she whispers beside my ear while she fusses with my hair. “It’s why they call themselves wolves. They’re a pack of dogs, ready to chomp at fresh meat but too spoiled to clean the carcass.”
I pull back to see her face. Her words are so vicious that I need to see her face to believe that she spoke them. But there’s just sadness there. Her eyes are as weary as my heart.
“We’re just disposable toys. Someday we’ll all be gone, and new feet will fill our shoes, living the ghost of our words.” A sudden smile creeps onto her face as she guides the drink in my hand to my mouth. “Drink up and keep going. It’s what we all do here.” She glances behind her at Hannah and a few other girls. “Unless you’re Cat—then you stomp around like there’s a gerbil chewing around your pussy. Fucking miserable bitch. No one fucking likes her.”
I watch her walk away before I finish my drink in a few gulps and set myself up. The disappointment and sadness don’t disappear as the alcohol warms through me. I thought that maybe it might make me feel better, but it doesn’t. It just reminds me that nothing can fill the hole Henry has carved out in my heart.
“What are we playing?” I ask the pianist.
He shrugs. “Whatever you want?”
Taking his sheet music book from the music stand on the piano, I flick through it until I find something that I know and that I can pour myself into. Once I’ve found it, I let him begin.
Four chords repeated like a mantra, drawing me into a trance where nothing matters. It’s just me and my violin and the music sweeping me off the ground. I can pretend I’m anywhere in the world. But the only place I long to be is with him.
* * *
Jess freezes when I walk out of the bathroom. Her blue eyes soften with pity when I blow my nose again and burst out crying at the sight of the blood. This is my third nosebleed in as many days. Last time I had this many nosebleeds, I had access to stronger drugs.
“Oh, don’t cry, sweetie,” she coos, placing the ice pack she’s holding on the back of my neck. “Crying makes it worse.”
“I know. Crying makes everything worse.” The sob wracks through me with a hiccup that causes me to choke on the blood running down my throat. “Do you think he loved me even just a little bit?”
Dropping my butt down on the toilet seat, I take over ice pack duty as she clears up the mess I’ve made of her bathroom. It doesn’t escape me that she doesn’t reply to my question. She made clear plenty of times that she had her reservations about me being with someone older.
