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THE SEVENTEENTH
Oh. My. God. Oh, my god. This is actually happening. I am physically shaking as I walk through the impressive entrance to The Old Bailey, otherwise known as the Central Criminal Court. I couldn’t help but stand outside in awe for a few moments taking in Lady Justice and her scales as the carving with the words over the entrance ‘Defend the children of the poor & punish the wrongdoer’ resonated in my mind. This iconic building has been immortalised in film and TV making it seem familiar even though I have never stepped foot in here before.
The building’s dome makes me think of St Paul’s Cathedral, which is only a short walk away but when I step through the entrance, the reverent quiet I am expecting is absent. Instead, people in wigs and gowns hurry through the groups of people milling around. I can see a couple of journalists and I duck my head down, hoping to avoid being seen. Emelia, who is leading the Prosecution’s case, quRelated chapters
Thirty Days THE SEVENTEENTH pt2
Carbs are definitely my best friend and as I tuck into my herb ravioli, I feel like I am picking up the pieces of myself. I find that I am humming Incubus’ Make Yourself under my breath and it seems entirely apt for this moment. Mum and Dad are hovering around me, treating me like I am ready to break down again at any time but truthfully my tears have been cathartic as I was finally able to let go of the tension that had been consuming me.By the time, Taylor arrives I feel slightly more normal. I am still unsettled by the questions that the press flung at me; the lawyers had told me to be prepared for them but still, hearing them yelled at me in that way was unnerving.I hate the fact that they have been digging into my life, that tomorrow morning my story will be splashed across the front pages of the various tabloids. I know I shouldn’t be surprised, after all my entire relationship with Taylor has been highly publicised online, but mostly I have
Thirty Days THE EIGHTEENTH
Why is it that no matter how hard I try to keep moving forward, something keeps holding me back? This thought twists around my mind on a continuous loop, much like an infinity symbol. I am supposed to be meeting Dr Grohl today but for the first time ever I have decided to blow it off. Maybe it is the constant nausea I woke up with, or the headache that is threatening to crush my skull, but all I know is that I cannot face questions about what makes me happy today.I know I should be happy…I have finally given my evidence, though I was warned I might get called back for cross-examination, so really now all I need to start worrying about is the impending arrival of Bean. Yet, at the back of my mind, a shadowy figure still looms. Richard. No one was more surprised than me when he appeared on the Defence’s list of witnesses, but it seems that he will be giving evidence tomorrow, something that is filling us all with dread. Richard is unpredictable at the best of
Thirty Days THE NINETEENTH
“He’s where? What the fuck is he doing there?” Taylor’s bark wakes me from my sleep. “I don’t understand Henry, I thought you guys had control of the situation….Well, fix it, dammit!” My feet are propelling me out of bed and into the lounge where Taylor is pacing anxiously before my mind has even fully comprehended what Taylor is saying.“Taylor, what’s the matter?” I ask quietly.My voice startles Taylor and he whips his head around. “Abs, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he continues.“What’s the matter, Taylor?” I repeat feeling concerned.Taylor lets out a long sigh. “Richard turned up at my parents’ house this morning, demanding to get in. Henry’s guys have refused him access, but my mother is fighting them saying that it is his house too and that he has every right to be there.” Taylor
Thirty Days THE NINETEENTH pt2
I open up the first one and let out a soft gasp when I see who wrote it; Hannah. Taylor looks at me curiously, but I just shake my head as I begin to read. At first, it looks like an ordinary love letter but I am a little confused when Hannah talks about how much she is going to miss Richard, making me wonder whether she is talking about her fake suicide but when I glance up and check the date on the letter my hands begin to shake. The letter was dated two weeks before Taylor left for his gap-year travels.How is that possible? Taylor said he met her in Costa Rica, that she never knew he had a brother yet here we have it in her own handwriting that she was in some sort of relationship with Richard well before she ever met Taylor. I glance up at Taylor and see he is engrossed in flicking through files on the computer so turn my attention to Stix who is sitting quietly on the sofa, curled up into Chris’ arms as he whispers softly to her.&ldquo
Thirty Days THE NINETEENTH pt3
Three hours have passed since Taylor literally ran out the door. I made lunch, but no one appeared to have much of an appetite so most of it lies on the side uneaten along with the cups of tea I seem to be compulsively making. Henry has been going crazy because somehow his guys managed to lose Taylor at some point along the Promenade and keep calling me every fifteen minutes to see if Taylor has made it back in one piece.I have just pulled a batch of scones out of the oven when I hear the door click. We all look at each other with alarm and wait to see what is about to happen. I am shaken to my core when I see a pale Taylor standing at the top of the stairs dripping with sweat and the rain that has been falling most of the morning.I walk across to him and place my hand on his arm, trying to ignore it when he flinches at my touch. I have seen the look in his eyes once before, the night we had sex before he abandoned me. I resist the urge to cry at
Thirty Days THE TWENTIETH
I am under strict instructions not to worry so of course that is all I can do. When Taylor was finally compos mentis, we drove up to London with the brown envelope clutched firmly in my hands and Stix and Chris in the back seat. I didn’t want to let it out of my sight for a moment, not until we could hand it over to someone who could actually do something with it. When Emelia was finally able to read through the letters, the expression on her face was like all her Christmases had come at once. Even Detective Stanton had a small grin on her face as she finally got the substantial evidence she needed to link Richard and Hannah together. When we finally walked out of the police station where we had all met up, I felt lighter than I had for weeks and wondered if we were finally on the home straight. We had to leave it to all the professionals; apparently getting evidence admitted at such a late stage of the trial would be difficult but Emelia assured us she had some tricks up her sleeve.
Thirty Days THE TWENTY-FIRST
Best friends are best friends for a reason. They tend to know you better than you know yourself, embrace your flaws and celebrate your triumphs and they know just how to pick you up when you need it. We may not have known each other since birth yet since she friended me on my first day at Hudson International Michelle and I have come to know each other inside out. Our night of frivolity was just what I needed and by the time we all fell asleep on the giant sofa, we were all exhausted but happy. A night on the couch though was not exactly kind on my back and when I awoke at four a.m. I padded softly through to the bedroom expecting to see Taylor tucked up in bed. Instead, I found him passed out on the chaise fully clothed, one shoe on and one shoe off, reeking of whiskey. I can only guess the hangover he is going to have when he finally wakes up. Michelle left early, heading off on a mini-break with her gorgeous boyfriend, Marc, to the Cotswolds. As she gushed over him last night, I
Thirty Days THE TWENTY-SECOND
“Do you have everything you need, Stix?” I ask poking my head around the door frame to our spare room.“Yeah, I think I am all good, Abs. Thanks again for this,” Stix replies soberly, her expression saying it all.I walk into the room and sit down on the double bed looking around. “This looks really lovely,” I say as I survey the transformation of our guest bedroom. The plain grey walls now have a vast array of pictures hung up. A string of fairy lights has been wound around the headboard and every surface is littered with books, make-up and electronic gadgets.“Sorry for the mess, Abs. I am not quite finished getting this lot packed away.” Stix looks at me with apprehension, as if I am about to tell her off.“Don’t stress about it Stix. This is your room for as long as you need it. You don’t need to walk on eggshells, please. Make yourself at home. Tell me if there is
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