Bad Blood. Кейт Хьюит
it was true. He stood, thinking about how it must have been for Jacob. Just eighteen, with the death of his father on his conscience and no one to turn to, his only human contact a ragged bunch of out-of-control children. Damaged, all of them.
Nathaniel stared across the water, allowing his mind to drift back to that time. Katie was right. Those memories were part of the past. They had no place in the present.
‘I was selfish.’ The words came from deep inside him. ‘I only thought about what it did to the family when you left. I only thought about us. Annabelle was distraught and watching her suffer made me feel as powerless as that night I watched William beat her. I didn’t think about what it must have been like for you, living with what happened. We had you, but you had no one.’
‘I shouldn’t have left but at the time I couldn’t see another way. I let you down.’
There was a tense moment and then they were embracing, holding each other tightly, the bonds of blood flowing from one to the other.
‘When I saw you in the front row of the theatre that night, I had to warn Annabelle that you were back,’ Nathaniel confessed in a raw tone. ‘She was devastated when you left.’ They eased apart, both of them awkward.
Clearing his throat, Jacob turned to look at Wolfe Manor. ‘Did you know they’ve served me with a Dangerous Structure Notice for this place? Apparently I have to take urgent action to remove the danger, remedy the defects and carry out works to make the building and structure safe.’ His laugh was edged with cynicism. ‘It’s hard to know where to begin. The roof is leaking, the brickwork is crumbling … We’ve had numerous break-ins. According to the police, local kids dare one another to sneak into the house.’
‘The place was boarded up after we all left.’ Nathaniel stared at the crumbling, forbidding house that had been the backdrop for the dark drama of his childhood. ‘It feels strange, being back. It’s been so long since I allowed myself to think of the place. I pretended it didn’t exist. My whole childhood ceased to exist.’
‘After I left, who stepped in?’
‘Lucas.’ Nathaniel kicked a stone into the water. ‘Can you believe that? Naturally it wasn’t a role he volunteered for. Lucas’s idea of passing on fatherly advice was to teach us everything we ever needed to know about sex, how to avoid discipline and how to get drunk and still walk in a straight line. And—’ he glanced at Jacob’s jaw ‘—how to fight.’
‘He taught you well.’ With a rueful smile, Jacob ran a hand over his face. ‘Although Lucas isn’t the best role model for impressionable children. He slept with at least half of the girls in the school.’
‘And a few of the teachers.’
Laughing, Jacob shook his head in despair. ‘Do you see him?’
‘Occasionally. He turned up late and drunk to one of my film premieres.’ Nathaniel grinned at the memory. ‘Staggered down the red carpet with some gorgeous blonde on his arm, winking at the paparazzi. I seem to remember the headlines were something like Bad, Bad, Bad Brothers …’
‘Sounds like Lucas.’
‘I bumped into him at Annabelle’s Christmas party a few years ago. The one thing Lucas is good at is partying.’
‘But none of you came back here?’
‘Call me fussy,’ Nathaniel drawled, ‘but this place is lacking in party atmosphere.’
‘It’s full of memories.’
‘Most of them bad ones.’
‘Some. Perhaps it’s time to make new ones. Remodel the place. Let in some light.’
‘From what I’ve heard, you’re the man to do that.’
Nathaniel slid his hands into his pockets. ‘I looked you up once. And Rafael mentioned that you’ve built a successful design business. You’ve done well.’
‘And you. I haven’t congratulated you on your Sapphire. I saw the film. You were incredible.’
For a moment Nathaniel thought about confessing how empty it all felt, how meaningless, but his tongue wouldn’t form the words. What had Katie said? Playing someone else is so easy for you, Nathaniel—it’s being yourself that you find impossible.
‘Have you been inside the house?’
‘Yes.’ Jacob glanced at him. ‘Do you want to take a look?’
They walked, and Nathaniel was surprised by how easy it was to be with his brother. Easier than being in the house.
Pushing open that heavy oak door, he shivered. So many ghosts, he thought. So many secrets.
‘He’s gone.’ Jacob’s voice was flat. ‘William is gone. I was wrong to let the family drift apart, but I’m going to do something about that. Things are going to change, Nathaniel.’
‘Maybe it’s time for change.’
They paused at the foot of the grand staircase, now less than grand, each reliving private memories.
‘You used to slide down this banister.’ Jacob’s mouth twitched as he ran his fingers over the cracked, neglected wood. ‘It drove William nuts.’
‘That’s why I did it. Why did you leave when you did?’
‘Guilt.’
‘You saved Annabelle. Without you …’ Nathaniel breathed deeply. ‘Do you know how many times I blamed myself for not saving her?’
‘You were nine years old. What could you have possibly done to protect her against a man like William?’
‘Nothing.’ Saying the word released something inside him. ‘You stopped it. You were a hero.’
‘Hero?’ Jacob’s mouth twisted. ‘I don’t think so. Annabelle was scarred for life. I should have prevented it happening in the first place.’
Nathaniel thought about William. ‘He was unstoppable. You did what you had to do.’
‘And I’ve lived with that every day of my life. The first time William hit me, I was six years old.’ Jacob stared at a faded painting on the wall. ‘He was drinking. I found him with a bottle of whisky in his hand. I didn’t know what whisky was. I just knew it was a drink that made him angry, so I grabbed it out of his hand and poured it away. I thought that was it. I thought after that everything would be fine. I kept telling myself that. When you’re a child you believe what you want to believe. And after he died—’ The words hung in the air, the rest of the sentence unsaid. ‘You say you blamed yourself for that night—there’s nothing you can teach me about blame.’
Nathaniel realised just how much his brother was carrying. ‘We weren’t your responsibility.’
‘Yes, you were. And I let you down. If I hadn’t left, all of you might not be scattered around the world.’
‘If you hadn’t left, we might not be so successful,’ Nathaniel drawled. ‘Did you know Alex was the youngest driver to win the British Grand Prix at Silverstone?’
‘I watched it on television while staying in one of Sebastian’s hotels—the Singapore Grande Wolfe, I think.’ Jacob stooped to pick up a broken photo frame that lay abandoned and forgotten on the dirty floor. He stared at the faded, cracked picture. ‘We need to replace this with some of Annabelle’s. Her work is astonishing. She finds beauty in everything. And then there’s you—Sapphire-winning actor. Twenty million dollars for your last movie and a percentage of box office gross. What do you do with all that money?’
Nathaniel thought of the children in Rio and the projects he was exploring back in the U.S. ‘I give it to Jack and he doubles it.’
‘Yes, I gather he has rather a talent for investments.’
‘And