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However, in the short amount of time her attention had been elsewhere, Henry and Libby had started kissing.
Fuck’s sake! Estelle moved down the table, making minute and unnecessary adjustments to paper plates and napkins. All through school, and most of life, she’d never felt like she fitted in. And right now, with her closest friends and family so loved up, she felt like a clunky fifth wheel.
God, I know we don’t speak much, but please deliver me from this love fest. I invited Isaac to come today, so can you make him show up? For me? Please?
The sound of the door creaking open echoed around the empty church.
She closed her eyes with relief. Thanks, God. I owe you one…
‘Oh, shitsticks,’ Libby said under her breath.
Estelle glanced up in surprise to see Libby’s mouth open and Henry’s pressed tightly shut.
Huh? Turning, she saw the reason for her twin’s displeasure.
James was standing in the doorway.
Eveline was the first to move, breaking away from Jack and going towards James, her hand outstretched. ‘Mr Hunter-Savage! What a lovely surprise!’
‘What the fuck is he doing here?’ Henry growled.
‘Hey!’ Jack whispered sharply. ‘Don’t make a scene.’
‘Chill out, Sir Protect-a-lot,’ Estelle muttered. ‘She’s not up the duff yet.’
Libby’s gasp filled the sudden silence, and shame shot through Estelle. She wanted to apologise, but her jaw was quivering with emotion. Turning, she ran to the back of the church and the privacy of the sacristy.
Entering the small room, she sat at the wooden table, sinking her head into her hands.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Jack had every right to be protective. Three weeks ago, Eveline had almost died. The arrival of James today was inconsequential in comparison. You thoughtless idiot! Even with three wayward parents and working two jobs, Estelle always felt some semblance of control. But now? With James? It was like trying to juggle with jellyfish.
There was a knock, and she glanced up.
Henry poked his head around the door. ‘Can I come in?’
She shrugged.
Sitting across from her, he took one of her hands in his. ‘You don’t have to do this.’
She didn’t reply.
‘You don’t have to work with Hunter-Savage.’
‘I do,’ she whispered.
‘No, you don’t. I’ve spoken to Libby and we’ve decided.’
Huh? ‘Decided what?’
‘We’re putting the renovation of our cottage on hold indefinitely and I’m selling my flat in London.’
Estelle froze. ‘Why?’
‘The money will pay the fees to get you out of the contract with BDE Entertainment, and should leave enough to run a pared-down version of the festival next year.’
Pulling her hand from Henry’s she gripped the edge of the table.
