Page 130 of Tears of Gold

We walk down the hallway at the top of the open stairs together. This is a big night and it’s all happening in my home. It felt natural to hold the launch party for our venture in the Fairclough London residence. Although I’m not sure Miss Beesley, orchestrating hundreds of hired staff for the evening, would agree. I wave over at her, and on the surface she isn’t even breaking a sweat. I wonder if she secretly longs for the days of Peter not living there at all. I don’t think so, but I wouldn’t blame her at all if she did.

Thirty-Six Chesham has long been one of the most sought-after addresses in London, revered from afar and rarely seen behind closed doors in recent generations.

Not anymore. When deciding on the best place to locate our charity offices so both Jennifer and I had access, it felt natural for me to suggest some of the floor space here. Let's be real, Eli and I hardly use it; the kitchen, bedroom, and sitting room being our favourite areas of the house. Also, as surreal as it is that I have a baby growing inside me, kicking me now on a daily basis, I wanted to still be able to keep a hand in while I'm on what I guess will effectively be maternity leave. What my maternity leave will be from I don’t know. The show will be over and so will my degree. Will there be another TV show? I don’t know. Would I want to do it again? I don’t know. I haven’t done the first one yet.

The one thing I do know is that I won’t be earning a living from my art. My hands while almost normal looking apart from the bend of my pinky on my right, no longer have the fine motor skills they used to. My brain can tell them to make something, but in my heart I have acknowledged it never quite looks like I want it to. With Eli still working as a lawyer it looks like art might not be filling our family home like I once thought it would.

He spots me coming from where he’s watching the stairs while chatting to two men in suits. I keep my eyes on him as he makes his apologies and then breaks away.

He’s always watching me. His guilt that he walked away from me those short few days eats at him from the inside. So every day I tell him I’m glad he did. He gave me the one thing I needed, the space to learn to fight.

“Sunshine,” he whispers in my ear. “Look at this. It’s amazing.”

I turn and take in the decorations. I let Laura organise with the help of Saskia, under the direct orders that everything had to be young and actually valid for the right age group. The house is silver and black to match the branding of H.U.G. Black for ink, silver for the glimmer of hope I hope we can provide.

Another thing about our launch; it’s for the girls. So yes, there will be some showbiz people. Angela has managed to pull some rather amazing strings and the Fairclough name has brought even royalty out in support. Me, I’ve invited a bus load of girls from Jeremy’s school, loads, all from twelve years up.

Eli stiffens, and all too late I spot Connie moving towards us. Jennifer somehow has managed to evaporate. Grandmother from hell got the silver memo and is wearing a pale silver gown which should look stupid on someone her age, but she manages to make it look truly wonderful on her slender frame. The tone picks out the silver in her sleek bob.

I smooth my own black dress down, happy with the way it’s gently clinging to the obvious swell of my tummy.

“Grandmother.” I smile with my greeting and Eli nearly chokes on his own saliva.

“Faith.”

We watch one another in silence. I turn to Eli. “Darling, could you get me an orange juice?”

“Sure.” He hesitates though.

“Please.” I shoot him a meaningful glance and he turns and walks towards the tables of drinks set up in the hallway.

“Thank you for coming,” I say.

She smiles but it’s glacial. “What would people think if I wasn’t here? It would be unheard of.” There’s a quiver in her words and as much as I hate her—knowing what she’s put us through, what she’s put her own family through—I still can’t help but feel a dart of pity for the old woman so desperate to hang onto times long past.

“What would they think, Connie?” I lift a shoulder. “But I’m glad you are showing your support.”

“You’ve changed everything I’ve ever known.” She keeps her tone low, so only I can hear.

I turn and meet her gaze. “And you’ve changed everything I’ve ever known. And really, Connie, I can only thank you for it. Now, I’ve got to go and mingle and greet my guests as they arrive.”

Connie tuts loudly. “Lots of loud children, bringing the place down with their lack of decorum.”

“Yeah, Connie. Lots of loud children, because it’s them this whole thing is for. You can stay here and look aloof and uncaring all evening, it’s really no skin off my nose, or you can come with me and find out what this is all about.”

She pauses and then drops her head in ascent. We won’t be best buddies anytime soon, but at least she’s no longer setting the Bowsley dogs on me every time I get close to her home—that’s progress, I guess.

We move together—a good few inches of space between us 'together'—and head for where guests are beginning to arrive.

Eli sidles back up, kissing the tender spot under my ear. “You look phenomenal tonight, Faith.” The blues are honest and bright.

“Why thank you, kind sir. You also look, may I say, ever so passable.”

Grinning, he leans closer, his breath skimming along my skin. “Passable? Remind me of that when you scream my name tonight.”

My legs actually tremble with his murmured promise. Ooh, that man. I fan myself down and laughing he walks away. I watch him go, knowing full well he knows I’m watching.

Someone else takes his place at my side and I turn to find the dark brown gaze of Jeremy watching me. “You know.” He nudges into me slightly. “I’d love to know what you are thinking when you look at him like that.” He smirks a little.