“I’m just going to tell him to go. Just wait there,” I say calmly. Sam looks concerned but nods and sits.
“So, this is where you’ve been held up?” Greg’s eyes are bloodshot and whiskey steams from his breath.
My voice is furious. “I am not held up, Greg. How did you find me?”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m here to take you home.” He hiccups and staggers in the now wet mud of the driveway.
I scoff. “You are drunk. Get Charles to drive you back to London.”
“Who’s that?” He stumbles to the side and points to the van still facing us with the headlights shining.
I am now very defensive and annoyed. “My friend.”
“Oh right, ‘friend’.” He has poison in his tone.
“Greg, I don’t have to explain myself to you. Just go home.” The anger is rising in my throat.
He hiccups again and stares at me for a moment. “You need to come home, Harri, you know you do. My parents are making my life hell because of you.”
“Go home. We can talk at the Winter Wonderland Ball, not here. Not when you’re like this.” I go to walk past him, and he stops me by grabbing my shoulders aggressively.
“There’s nothing to talk about. You’re mine by rights,” he spits.
I hear the van door shut and footsteps in the now wet mud come from behind.
“Look, mate, I think you need to talk about whatever this is when you’ve not been drinking.” Sam pulls Greg’s hands from me and steps between us.
“I’m not your mate and I’ll talk to my wife how I wish.” He tries to move Sam to the side but fails.
“Well, from what I can see, she is not your wife and asked you to go home. I don’t want this to turn nasty.” Sam’s body covers mine. Greg is athletic but pound for pound Sam could crush him in his hands.
Greg laughs. “Didn’t take you long to find a bit of rough, did it, Harriet?” his voice hisses at me. Greg has a temper, but this is different. Like he is consumed by anger that is not just his.
I rip myself around from Sam but am stopped by Sam’s arms trying to protect me. “Just go home, Greg,” I shout.
I see Sam’s fists curl into a tight ball. I need to calm the situation before something happens. I don’t want Sam in trouble.
Just as I take a breath to start talking in a more relaxed tone, the cottage door opens and my aunt and grandma come running out in dressing gowns. Aradia is carrying a golf club and Granny has a bat. Great, that’s not going to help.
“What’s all this shouting?” Aradia shouts. Ironic really.
I move around the stand-off boys to stop them coming any further. “I’m so sorry. Greg’s turned up drunk and he is just refusing to go home.”
“Oh, we will see about that.” Aradia stomps through the mud barefoot, hair wild and eyes the same.
“I think the lady asked you to leave.” She points her bony finger into Greg’s face. His face looks shocked to see this wild woman stood in front of him. He stumbles back, now surrounded by me, Sam and Aradia with Granny at the gate, the baseball bat over her shoulder.
“What happened to you, Harri? We had it all! Don’t you want that still? Surely not this?” He gestures up and down at Sam.
“I changed, Greg, you changed. We were who our parents wanted us to be. Not what we truly are.”
For a moment I feel like I have tapped into him, but his face becomes angrier. His eyes narrow on mine and his lips curl viciously.
“I know what you are, Harri, what you all are. I know everything.” His eyes dance with evil.
My heart stops. I don’t want to do this right now. To Granny, to Aradia, to Sam.
I pull him to the side away from the others, his drunk body falling into me. Sam rushes to intervene but Aradia gestures for him to wait.
