Page 8 of Unapologetic Love Story

Raina exhaled. ‘Okay, so I was really looking forward to the getting made up part. I’m now not so sure about the going out part.’

‘Raina Lewis, don’t you dare.’

Raina sipped her drink and wondered if this battle was worth the emotional horsepower. Pepper had grown up with an obscene amount of money. It had granted her a magical ability – she was able to walk into any and every room, knowing that she belonged. She had more friends than hairs on her head. She seemed to know everyone in London and everyone loved knowing her. Raina enjoyed watching it happen. She liked seeing the strange mist of instant adoration descend upon people. Pepper’s presence was the oil that eased the creaking, cranking hinges of a clunky social scene.

Raina was not that way. She often felt like the spoke in the wheel.

Being autistic meant she was a vegetable in the fruit bowl. Social interactions could be dire if the other person was able to sense she was different. Events like the Hathaway Dinner were full of hungry piranhas and Raina didn’t fancy being a nice juicy morsel for them to devour. She’d learned to mask but, at best, that only made her feel like a piece of crystallized fruit in the bowl. Something that looked exactly the same, but don’t bite into it. The inside isn’t what you’re expecting.

‘You’ll look beautiful. We’ll take great pictures, we’ll have a nice meal and a boogie, and we’ll leave.’

‘No, we will not!’ guffawed Raina. ‘I can never drag you out of these things before the sun comes up.’

‘These people aren’t fashion or music people, we won’t stay long.’

Pepper received different offerings from different communities. The literary scene was a new charm on her social bracelet but she was hoping to meet an editor who would commission her to write a style guide. Raina was the only one out of the two of them who actually read books but she admired Pepper for refusing to let that stop her.

‘Right,’ Pepper said briskly. ‘Shower, shave and then pre-drinks. I’ve laid your dress out upstairs.’

Raina glanced at her. ‘Are we in an Edith Wharton novel?’

‘You can’t wear that, Raina! This is posh!’

Raina swallowed. If Pep said it was posh, it really must be. ‘Black tie?’

‘The blackest.’

‘All right, Duchess.’

Pepper disappeared into her downstairs bathroom for a shower while Raina stepped into the main bedroom. Laid out on the queen-sized four-poster was a backless rose-gold dress made with a ton of sequins.

‘Pep!’ Raina called, knowing her friend wouldn’t hear her. ‘This is too good for the likes of me!’

Raina was drawn to it, though. She knew Pepper was thorough – it would fit like a glove with shoes to match. She smiled gently and stroked the fabric. A little shimmering strip of a life that seemed far away.

Her mind suddenly returned to one of the girls from earlier. An earnest face who had come to her privately.

‘Do you still believe in love? After everything?’

Raina had been so thrown by the question. By the hopeful face of its owner.

‘Yes,’ she’d said. ‘I’ve been disappointed. I’ve been let down. But the search will end one day. And it will be like “Wild is the Wind”.’

The girl’s face had scrunched up in confusion. ‘Like . . .?’

‘Do you know that song? I want someone like that song. Unapologetic. Complicated. Real. Maybe not something everyone else gets. But I do.’

She lifted the dress and held it to her body. Pepper’s way of life was only ever for borrowing.

‘Pepper, I’m staying for the meal and then I’m out.’

Her friend yelled back an obscene response and Raina laughed.

‘Well,’ she said softly. ‘Real until midnight and all that . . .’

Tom took in the expansive hall of the V&A with its finely laid tables. The stage with the band was lit up, the dancefloor vacant while guests mingled and flitted about. The sound of fake laughter echoed around the room and waiters appeared with champagne flutes, their uniforms looking like lab coats, which Tom found quite fitting.

‘Tommy!’