Chapter 36

Mum, I’m fine.” Irritably, I drop my arm, walk over to one of the armchairs, and drop into it. I know I’m being mulish, but it’s taking all my willpower just to stop myself walking out. I’m too miserable to make an effort.

I’ve never been the sort of person to want to talk through my problems, and to be fair my family knows this and they all ignore me for the next hour or so, while Pamela, our housekeeper, brings in the food that Pierre, the chef, has made. I pass on all of it, sickened at the thought of swallowing anything except the whisky. Why have I never thought about the fact that we have our own chef? How decadent is that?

About every five seconds, I check my phone to see if Alice has texted me, but the screen remains dark, and my Apple watch refuses to buzz against my wrist to announce an incoming call. Slowly knocking back the whiskies, and taking off my glasses, I grow more morose as the evening goes on, having to sit there and listen to everyone cooing over the babies and t