‘No, that won’t be necessary. It’s Lydia, isn’t it?’ Autumn asked, looking the girl up and down and hoping she had remembered correctly.
‘Yes, it is, Miss Raine.’
‘Please, call me Autumn.’ Autumn turned, pulled a top out from a display, and held it out. ‘I remember you because you make the best coffee. I’ve yet to figure out the secret ingredient, but I know it definitely involves alcohol. So, hit us with two of your special coffees and some of those ginger biscuits,’ Autumn told her.
‘Yes, Miss R… I mean, yes, Autumn,’ Lydia said, her cheeks pink.
Autumn took down the top and held it up to her body.
‘What do you think of this one, Tawanda?’
‘I think it will make you look like a broomstick in a sack.’
‘I love your honesty.’ Autumn passed a dress over to her friend. ‘Here, why don’t you try something on?’
‘You want me to try this on?’ Tawanda looked at what Autumn had chosen and screwed up her face. ‘You think I need to wear a cocktail dress?’ she asked.
‘You’ll need something to wear to the IMAs. It’s broadcast in hundreds of countries, and it gets primetime on one of the big US networks, you know.’
‘And you think I don’t have something suitable at home I can wear?’
The tone of Tawanda’s voice made it obvious she had made a faux pas. How stupid was she? How utterly contemptible, suggesting one of these outrageously expensive outfits to her friend and insinuating that anything she already had in her wardrobe would be inadequate to wear to the IMAs.
‘Oh, Tawanda, of course not. I didn’t mean that. Well, of course, I did mean that. But I didn’t mean it quite like that. Of course, wear whatever you’d like.’
‘This dress is almost three thousand pounds,’ Tawanda remarked.
‘Is that all?’ Autumn said as she dropped down onto one of the leather sofas nearby.
‘Why are we here?’
Tawanda sat down on the sofa opposite. Autumn felt the intensity of her stare. Prickles started at the base of her neck under the scrutiny.
‘I don’t know. I just needed to get out of the apartment, and I needed to get back to being Autumn Raine, pop star. It just doesn’t feel the same anymore,’ she said, toying with the clasp on a new purse her mother had brought home for her.
It was smaller than the one the terrorists had taken, and it didn’t feel quite right yet. The clasp was still tight, but apart from a wallet and the new iPhone, it carried her precious photo—not the one of her father—the photo of the man she had lost.
‘You’ve been through a lot in a short space of time. You’re bound to still feel unsettled,’ Tawanda offered.
‘It isn’t just that. I can’t stop thinking about him, Tawanda.’
‘Mr Nathan,’ she guessed.
‘His real name was Scott. Did you know that?’ Autumn asked, her eyes wide.
‘Yes.’
‘Of course you did. You’re part of that group, aren’t you?’
‘Not this Section 7. This is new to me. I was in the army. Scott and I—Nathan—we worked together for a number of years. He was someone I’d always trusted, and he felt the same. We were bonded by the terrible things we’d seen and the awful things we had to do. When you are in those dreadful situations, you form close friendships, and friendships built on life and death situations tend to be deeply forged.’
‘Were you and he… ?’
‘No! No, child, never like that. There was never a connection like that. Besides, I am ten years older than he is… was,’ Tawanda said.
‘He was almost ten years older than me, according to his file,’ Autumn said, her eyes glazing over as she thought back to the papers she had looked through, hoping to learn so much about the man she loved.
‘He was married when we met,’ Tawanda said, ‘devoted to his wife, and they had a child. She was a beautiful girl with dark hair like her father, in curls like her mother.’
Autumn could see the emotion sweep over her face as she remembered someone she had respected and admired.
‘He told me, about Carolyn and Marie, about what happened, what that man did to them. And he carried that guilt around right until the end. That Nigel Farlow killed his family, and he took part of Nathan with him, too,’ Autumn said.
Lydia arrived back with coffee and biscuits.
Autumn took the cup from the tray. ‘Thank you, Lydia,’ she said.
‘You’re very welcome. Now, did you want me to select some outfits for you? I take it you’re looking for something for the IMAs. I’m so sorry about Blu-Daddy, I adored his songs. And your collaborations were always wonderful,’ Lydia said, galloping over her words.
Autumn gave the assistant a small smile. ‘Could you leave us for a bit? We could just do with the coffee for now.’ She sipped a bit of her drink.
‘Of course. Just let me know when you need my help, and I’ll be right over,’ Lydia said, an eager bounce in her step as she trotted off.
Autumn took another sip of her coffee then put the cup down on the table in front of her.
‘No one ever talks about him, Tawanda. No one ever says his name. You heard Lydia. She said she was sorry about Blu. No one says how sorry they are about Nathan, and the press reported we were dating. Why does no one care about him?’
‘You know how it works, child. Nathan wasn’t anyone to them. He wasn’t someone who had been on a chat show. He wasn’t a candidate for the Big Brother house. You told them he was the head of a computer company. That isn’t news to them. Besides, no one really knows what went on. You were taken. You were rescued. That’s all the details the press were given.’
‘I just… I just can’t grieve for him like I want to, because no one wants to listen. I mean, my mother tried, and
