Page 92 of All For You

Darcy unfurled beside me. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.” I looked around for my own phone. In my handbag in the living room.Forgotten in last night’s passion. Probably dead.

Had Jane had an accident? Mum?

“There’s a dressing gown in my wardrobe,” Darcy said.

Naked and self-conscious despite the emergency, I rushed over to the wardrobe, pulled out a blue velvet dressing gown, wrapped it around myself, and turned to see Darcy discreetlylooking away. Always the gentleman, even after last night, and I was touched by that. He pushed himself out of bed.

I hurried outside to the hallway, where Tabitha was waiting.She was distressed, and her rumpled and messy clothing looked like she’d dressed in a hurry.

She handed me her phone on speaker.

“Jane. What’s going on? What happened?” I asked.

Darcy appeared by my side, dressed hastily in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, his hair mussed, his face etched with worry.

“Lizzy?” Jane said.

Oh God. Even from a one tear-filled word, I knew something was horribly wrong.

“Shall I step around the corner?” Tabitha asked.

“Yes. Do you want privacy?” Darcy asked.

“Is it okay if Tabitha and Darcy hear?” I asked Jane. “I have you on speaker.”

“Yes. They might know what to do.”

I nodded to Tabs and Darcy to stay.

“What’s wrong, love?” I asked her.

“George. How could he?” she sobbed.

George Wickham. I groaned, my stomach tense. What had that awful prick ex of hers done now?

She gave an anguished cry.“When we were together, he persuaded me to let him take nude photos of me. It was done in his studio, and it was a group photo. He said the photos were for an art series for a gallery. I wasn’t sure, and he guilted me, saying he would look bad if his own girlfriend, a model, wasn’t comfortable participating…”

I madea disgusted sound in the back of my throat. His usual whiny, needy bullshit, preying on her sweet nature.

She sobbed. “I was not keen, but he promised the photo would be blurred, I wasn’t going to be recognizable. There would be a room of people, and hetold me he needed another body.”

Bile rose up from my stomach. I knew this wasn’t going anywhere good.

She went on. “He sent me the photo, and it’s not blurred. I’m clearly identifiable, and my face is center front. And it’s nothing like it seemed when he took the photo. I don’t know what he’s done to distort the image, but it looks like some kindof debauched orgy. He said we are destined to be together, that if I don’t get back with him, he’s going to release the photo to that horrible celebrity site ‘Where are they now?’ on Tuesday, six p.m.”

Both Tabitha and Darcy tensed beside me.

Wickham had been sickeningly clever to threaten to send it to that site. Readers would hate Jane more, thinking she had beauty, opportunity, and she’d thrown it all away. Pure clickbait.

Jane coughed out a sob, as though she was going to be sick.

My stomach rolled over, bilious too, but I went rigid, determined to stay calm for my sister.

“Oh God, Jane. I hate that man,” I said.

“Me too. I can never go back to him. I’ll have to take the consequences. Those photos will be on every site, in every newspaper, all over the internet.” Her voice was getting higher and higher, hysterical. “I’ll be fired from my job at the school. I’ll never teach again. I’ll never be able to show my face in this town. I’ll be a laughingstock. I haven’t told Wills yet—what is he going to think?”