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our house, for goodness sake!’
    I can hear Aiden pacing and trying to slow his breath.
    ‘I bet you weren’t like this when Stephanie announced her marriage to Gregory.’
    Cressida’s laugh is cruel, most likely without intention, but hurtful nonetheless.
    ‘Don’t be silly, Aiden. Your sister married a Featherstone-Hough.’
    ‘He’s a womaniser, a gambler and leaves her alone in that mansion while he goes out and parties with his mistresses. She’s miserable.’
    ‘Gregory may be… lacking in some respects, but he earns a small fortune, stands to inherit a large one and provides Stephanie with every luxury possible. It’s a far cry from you marrying beneath you, isn’t it?’
    ‘Mum, I need you to understand that I love Lou.’
    ‘It’s a foolish move marrying for love, it never works. Love fades quickly, mutual benefit doesn’t.’
    ‘Mum…’
    ‘It’s not too late for you, Aiden. You can still go to London or New York and pick up your career, be successful like Hunter Wincott. Of course it would be a late start, but better late than never. Perhaps he could get you a job. I’m sure that what’s-her-name will still be here when you get back,’ she says then mumbles, ‘married to one of her own kind.’
    ‘It’s late, we have to go,’ Aiden says. His voice is getting closer, so I make to scamper into the next room—one of their seven bathrooms.
    Cressida calls out after him, ‘Really darling, isn’t there some way I can make you see sense? There’s no hurry to get married, is there? Why not wait a couple of years?’
    ‘Mum, I’m sorry you don’t agree with me, but I love Lou and nothing will change that. Nothing.’
    Except maybe finding out I was Hunter’s girlfriend .
    ‘Very well, darling. If you insist. I’ll have the family lawyer draw up a prenuptial agreement for Lee to sign.’
    His footsteps cease and I can hear his foot turn on the polished oak flooring.
    ‘Lou,’ he says.
    ‘Hmmm? Pardon dear?’
    ‘Lou. My fiancée’s name is Lou, Mum.’
    ‘Yes, of course, Lou. Oh God, she sounds like a toilet.’

Chapter 4
    Aiden and I usually spend Sunday night apart so we can get ready for the start of our busy working week. He does his best to persuade me to stay, seeing as it won’t be a school night for the next two weeks, but I need to visit Hunter tonight to convince him to keep my secret before the cocktail party tomorrow.
    The drive back to my cottage is filled with imaginary conversations between Hunter and myself, some positive, some not so positive. Mel is waiting for me at home.
    ‘I’ve got to confront him,’ I say.
    ‘What? Who?’ she asks, around a mouthful of red chicken curry. ‘Aiden?’
    ‘Hunter. I’ve just got to do it. It’s worth a shot, isn’t’ it? Don’t you think?’ I fall back into the dining chair, my car keys clutched in a white-knuckle grip, a feeling of nausea pulsating around my body. ‘I mean, Hunter may go along with it for my sake. Right?’
    Mel raises her eyebrows and looks to be considering the suggestion as she chews her dinner.
    ‘We had a good relationship.’
    Mel tilts her head to the side and frowns.
    ‘A goodish relationship,’ I add.
    Mel’s frown deepens.
    ‘Okay, we drank expensive champagne, partied at London hotspots and had great sex. But on some deeper level, he wouldn’t want to hurt me now, would he?’
    ‘The bottom of this takeaway container is deeper than Hunter, and probably more capable of an open and honest relationship.’
    ‘It’s worth a shot, right?’
    She contorts her face into a ‘thinking’ expression.
    ‘I know that the possibility of Hunter agreeing to keep quiet is miniscule, but what other option is there, other than to tell Aiden. It’s my last chance, Mel.’
    Mel swallows her chicken, wipes her mouth and grabs the keys out of my hand.
    ‘What are you doing? You can’t talk me out of this,’ I say.
    ‘I’m not talking you out of anything. I’ve known you for too long to