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“Are you nearly ready?” Chelsea calls from the bedroom.
“Hurrying, sweetheart,” I call back, but hurrying is the antithesis of what I’m doing. The glass case that contains my cufflinks is open and they are scattered everywhere.
“Lucian.” This time it’s Farrah who calls, and I can feel my nerves fracturing.
“I’m coming!” It wasn’t my intention to shout, but I can’t bring myself to apologise, nor can I step away from this confounded mirror.
With shaky hands I wrap the crimson silk material around my neck and begin making the loop.
“Lucian?”
I look up, and in the mirror’s reflection I see Farrah standing behind me. This is the first time I’ve looked at my kid sister and seen a woman staring back. She is wearing a slim-fitting turquoise dress, a matching cashmere shawl, and her ebony locks have been pinned back. She looks beautiful and in this moment is the image of our mother.
I blink and try to clear my mind. My gaze bypasses Farrah and I attempt to get a better view into the bedroom. “Where’s Chelsea?” I ask, noticing the bed where she sat moments ago is empty.
Farrah takes a few steps toward me. “She’s gone downstairs to tell Albert we’re almost ready.”
Albert is Father’s driver, who Father sent to pick Chelsea and me up this morning, whilst McKenzie escorts Farrah and her bodyguard to Freesdon Hall.
My sister points to her wristwatch and taps the domed face. “It’s eleven-thirty, so we’re already late.”
“So then go.” I wave her off.
I can’t help but wonder what her hurry is, for it’s not like my sister to care about punctuality.
“Not without you.” She steps forward and continues to fasten my tie.
I stand quietly whilst she loops one end around the other and slides the knot up to rest at my collar. When she has finished, she reaches into the glass case and picks out two cufflinks.
“There, done.” She drops small gold dice in my palm and turns to leave.
I stare down while moving the cufflinks around. “You have no idea how hard today is for me.”
“It’s hard for all of us.”
I stuff my hands into my trouser pockets and shake my head. “It’s different for me.”
I regret the words as soon as they leave my lips, but I’ve said them and it’s too late to take them back.
“Just because I was a toddler when she died does not mean I love her any less. I was robbed, Lucian. Robbed of precious memories—the sound of her voice, the feel of her hugs. Just because I don’t remember doesn’t mean my pain is any less than yours.”
I hurry to catch up with my sister and place my hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
Farrah doesn’t turn to face me. She doesn’t have to. I know from the tremble of her body that I have upset her. “I’m sorry too, Lucian. But don’t make today about you. We are all hurting, just in different ways.”
Without a backward glance, she leaves. She leaves me alone, surrounded by a dozen ties and suit jackets strewn on the floor, alone with my thoughts. I spend a few more minutes staring into the mirror’s reflection, straightening my tie and adjusting my collar, but most of all, I’m stalling.
“Lucian!” Chelsea calls for what seems like the hundredth time, and instead of putting on a different tie and fastening and unfastening a different set of cufflinks, I step out of my walk-in wardrobe and stroll along the landing and on down the stairs.
With each step I force myself to stand taller, and with each step I force a smile on my face.
I only have to get through a few hours,I remind myself as I set foot in the hallway.
Chelsea’s hovering in the doorway leading out to the front of the estate. A long blue dress hugs her body, and her hair has been curled and falls to her waist. She hasn’t seen me yet; her attention appears to be taken up with what’s happening outside. Chelsea waves, and it’s only when I step forward that I notice my Mercedes pulling off the driveway. My sister and Dante are seated inside.
“Lucian!” Chelsea calls again, her voice so loud it feels as though it goes right through me.
I take a few steps forward and place my hand on the small of her back. “I’m right here.”
