Total pages in book: 217
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
“We just need some help.” I point to the bubbling pot of curry. “Would you mind taking that out? I’ll bring the rest in a moment.”
She doesn’t ask questions, which is exactly why I summoned Zinnea and not Esther. “Of course, my darling.” She gets straight to it, collecting a couple of kitchen towels and taking the pot off the stove. “Spoon?”
“In the pot,” I say, making her frown down into the curry.
“I’ll fish it out.” She leaves, and I return to Rose, opening the box and rummaging through for what I need to fix her up.
“What happened?” I ask, dabbing at her hand to dry it.
“I’m trying to think reasonably,” she says on a sigh. “He was so completely out of control, and I just felt incapable of sustaining it today.”
“So you asked him to stop?” I squeeze some cream onto her palm and rub it in.
“Yes.”
“And he didn’t?”
“No.” Rose looks up at me, and I hate the anguish I see in her dark blue eyes. This will be killing her. Danny’s the only man in this world who can hurt her. And right now, she’s in agony. I’m not going to stand here and tell my friend I’m sure he didn’t mean to do what he did, even though I know Danny’s history as well as I know Rose’s. I would never play down my friend’s distress, not after everything she’s been through. Danny’s foul mood, Rose’s distance, it all makes sense now.
“You need to talk to him.”
“And say what?” she asks, exasperated. “Why did you, my husband, take me against my will?”
I notice she refuses to use that word. “He looks like a broken man, Rose.” I have to point that out, at least. My loyalty lies with Rose, of course, but I feel like I would be doing myself and Rose an injustice if I don’t raise the obvious, because perhaps during her trauma she’s forgotten who she’s married to. The Danny Black I know would kill anyone who laid a hand on his wife with her permission. Without? It would be slow, messy, and painful. I look back to the garden. I know how he’ll be feeling right now. I need to tell James to watch him. “Do you want me to talk to him?” I ask, claiming the bandage and starting to wrap her up.
“No.” She snivels and wipes at her nose roughly. “Please don’t tell him I’ve told you.”
I smile mildly, fastening the end of her bandage and going to the stove. “I won’t.” She doesn’t want me to think bad of him. She doesn’t want Danny to feel any worse than he already does, if that’s possible. I don’t think it is.
I take one of the pappadams and drop it into the pan, making the oil sizzle once again, the circle expanding rapidly. “Do you want some wine?” she asks.
“No, thanks.” I grab some grippers and lift it out, dropping it onto a paper towel to soak up the oil before slipping another into the pan. “You need to wash your face before we go back outside.” Who the fuck am I kidding? Nothing goes unnoticed in this group.
Rose goes into her purse on the island and pulls out a little mirror, inspecting herself in it. She studies herself for a while, whilst I watch in between frying. Then she sighs and drops the mirror, looking at me. “It never ends, does it?”
No, it doesn’t. As long as we’re in this world, extreme stress and helplessness will always feature. “We both knew deep down that eliminating The Bear wouldn’t mean they’re out.” I spoon another pappadam onto the paper towel. “There will always be men out there wanting to be kingpin, and our men have massive bounties on their heads.” I’m telling her what she already knows but finds hard to accept. I do too, some days more than others. But when Rose waivers, I have to pick her up. She does the same for me. So long as one of us is strong on any given day, we’ll always be okay. “I just spoke to my dad,” I say, willing to go there to take Rose’s mind off her current anguish. “He’s running for mayor.” I peek up from the frying pan. She looks like a fish. “Exactly. And he’s dating someone.”
“Jesus, is she out of college?”
“I didn’t ask. I honestly don’t want to know.”
“Mayor?” Her cheeks blow out. “Well, he has the ego, I suppose.”
I hum to myself. “Where’s Daniel?” I ask. I’m done with daddy talk. I’m struggling to get my head around how I can feel sorry for someone but at the same time resent them.
“He made a friend,” Rose says, loading the chutneys onto a tray. “Barney Benson.”
“Cute name.”
“His dad’s a private banker. Lennox Benson. He’s taken the boys out on his private yacht this afternoon.”