Mr. Smithfield - Louise Bay Page 0,89

to begin a séance. “I hate this place,” I said to Dexter, trying not to shudder as I took a seat at the round table of the private room where we often ended up if it was Dexter’s turn to choose the venue for our regular evenings out.

He shot me a look. “It’s one of the best private members clubs in Europe.”

“Did you bring your cauldron?” Joshua asked.

“No,” I replied. “But I brought some eye of newt.”

“I think it’s the red velvet curtains,” Tristan said. “Or that low ceiling with the star cut into it. It’s part witch’s lair, part nineteenth-century Parisian brothel.”

“I have no desire for a spell or a prostitute, so like I said, I hate this place.” The lack of windows, the wooden paneling. The heavy velvet everywhere. It was claustrophobic and depressing.

“Well, we’re planning my stag night, so I don’t care if you like it here,” Dexter said.

“Vegas!” Tristan exclaimed.

“Speaking of twenty-first-century brothels,” Andrew chipped in.

“We’re not going to Vegas,” Dexter said. “Apart from it being a complete cliché, we all vowed never to go again after last time. Wherever we go, if you get arrested again, you’re staying in prison, Joshua.”

“That was a shit show,” Joshua said. “Vegas is a terrible idea. Tallinn?”

A collective groan echoed in our velvet cave. “Way too predictable,” Tristan said.

“What about Harry Potter world?” Joshua suggested. “We could rent the entire place out for the night. No one could get into trouble. It’s original.”

“Great idea . . . if this was my thirteenth birthday party,” Dexter said.

I couldn’t hold back a laugh. “What about Peppa Pig world?” I asked. Arguably, that could mean an overnight stay at my place.

“Or Legoland?” Andrew said.

“Okay, okay,” Joshua said. “Message received. At least I’m coming up with ideas, even if they are all shit. Climb down from the cheap seats, get in the arena, and make some suggestions, Gabriel.”

Why couldn’t we just stay in London?

“Rome? Great food, great wine. Beautiful women,” Joshua suggested. “All that passion. God, I love Italian women.”

“This isn’t about you getting laid,” I snapped. There was no way I was going to Rome. “I’m vetoing Rome.”

“Have you heard from her?” Tristan asked.

I shook my head. I’d not asked Dexter where she was or what she was doing. And I’d only seen Hollie once since Autumn had left. I’d come close to asking after her, but I’d held myself back. There was no point. She’d been clear.

“And how are things going with Penelope?” Joshua asked.

“Good, actually.”

Dexter’s eyebrows shot up. He filled the expectant silence around the table by topping up my wineglass.

“We had lunch and talked things through a couple of weeks back. We’ve told Bethany she’s her mother and she comes over to the house a few times a week.”

“Well, that sounds mighty civilized,” Dexter said. “And you seem okay about it.”

“It is and I am. It’s good for Bethany. Like Penelope said, she walked out, and it can be for three years or a lifetime. She’d prefer it to be three and . . .” I’d thought about it. I’d do anything for my daughter, and I wasn’t going to be the man who denied her a mother. “And so would I. It’s what’s best for Bethany.”

“So, she’s back for good?” Joshua asked.

“Yes, I think she is. And if she walks out again . . . Well, I’ll pick Bethany up and put her back together.” I didn’t think Penelope would leave again. She’d grown up. We both had. And she wouldn’t want to miss out on Bethany any more than she already had done.

“What about the two of you?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s still the same woman I married but . . .” She wasn’t Autumn. And when Autumn came back, I wanted to prove to her that I’d done everything I could to try with Penelope, even if that’s not what I wanted. Autumn should have no doubt that I wanted her above all others.

“Too much water under the bridge?”

“I’m not sure I’m the same man she married.” My phone buzzed, interrupting my thoughts. I pulled it out of my pocket to find Mike’s number flashing at me and I groaned before ignoring the call.

“Wait, did you just ignore a work call?” asked Tristan.

I shrugged. I was sick of Mike. Ever since Penelope and I had lunch and she’d been surprised that I was still lawyering, it had gotten me thinking. “I’ve been considering that I might not like my job.”

“This is hardly breaking news,” Joshua