‘Not really.’
Thanks to Hamilton Hall’s huge success, Jason now had more than enough money never to have to work again. He was free to focus on his piano, to follow his dreams, just as he’d always longed to. In the beginning he’d given it his all, practising for hours each day, eventually working up the courage to put himself out there as a professional jazz pianist, looking for work. And he’d found it, sporadically, in third-rate bars and restaurants. But none of the jobs lasted. Put simply, Jason had learned the hard way that his father had been right all along: he simply wasn’t good enough, talented enough, to make it as a professional musician.
If there was one single cause at the root of his current depression, Jason suspected this was it. He was a failure. Creatively. Professionally. Maritally. Meanwhile his wife, whom he loved despite their sexless marriage, his wife was a roaring success, the toast of London.
Jason’s mother had visited him and Tati at the Eaton Gate house a couple of weeks ago and unwittingly brought all his negative feelings to a head. Normally Jason enjoyed Angela’s visits, especially when she brought Logan along with her. Something about his sister’s energy was infectious, and pushed all thoughts of the absent elephant in the room – Brett – from Jason’s mind. Logan loved Tati too, which helped, and the feeling was mutual. Whenever his kid sister was around, Jason felt as if his two worlds, his two selves had collided. That made him happy.
But this last time his mother had come alone. And one afternoon, quite out of the blue, she’d asked Jason about children.
‘You’ve been together five years now,’ Angela probed gently. ‘Tatiana’s thirty. You must have thought about it.’
Well, they hadn’t thought about it. The subject had never come up between them. Not obliquely. Not in a jokey way. Not at all.
Never.
Because we both know there’s something missing.
Something wrong.
This realization – prompted by his mother’s innocent question – had pushed Jason over some sort of mental edge into his darkest mood of many years. After Angela left he felt exhausted and tearful and defeated, unable or unwilling to get out of bed. All the old demons were back. Concerned, Tati had pushed him back to therapy. But he really wasn’t sure he had the strength for it.
‘Tell me a bit about your marriage,’ said the therapist. ‘How do you feel about your wife?’
Jason looked up at the clock like a condemned man waiting for the guillotine. Had he really only been in this room for fifteen minutes? The thought of another forty-five minutes of questions filled him with something akin to panic.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, standing up suddenly. ‘I’m afraid I … I have somewhere I need to be. I forgot. I’ll pay you. Goodbye.’
He bolted out of the door and down the corridor as if the room were on fire.
Poor thing, thought the therapist, who’d seen it all before. So much for the Cranleys’ glittering life and perfect marriage. That boy was proof, if one ever needed it, that money and fame could not buy one happiness.
She wondered if she would see Jason Cranley again.
Seb Harwich watched Logan Cranley’s perfect body gyrating to the music. He wished he weren’t so mesmerized by her. But the way her hair swung around her shoulders, and her back arched as she moved each long, lithe leg to the beat of the godawful German dance track she was playing had a totally hypnotic effect on him.
They were in the barn at Wraggsbottom Farm, where Logan had decided to throw an impromptu party. ‘They’ included a gaggle of Logan’s spoilt, sixteen-year-old boarding school friends, Seb, and a smattering of locals, mostly boys in their teens, who buzzed around the St Xavier’s girls like horny bees around a honey-pot. At almost twenty-two, Seb was not only the oldest person present, but by far the most mature. He’d tried to convince Logan not to invite friends over.
‘Someone’s bound to get drunk and break something or have an accident. Gabe and Laura would hit the roof if they knew.’
But Logan had pooh-poohed him, in her usual headstrong, thoughtless fashion. ‘Yes, but they don’t know, do they? And there’s no reason why they should. As long as someone doesn’t rat us out.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Seb frowned. ‘I’m not going to say anything. I just don’t think it’s a good idea, that’s all. Laura and Gabe put a lot of trust in you.’