and see how your night was. It’s great to see the two of you together.’
Gisele looked down at her son with the universal look of the Madonna, but Lee could see her lashes were wet and that she’d been crying. ‘He’s doing so well,’ she smiled, almost as though surprised by it. ‘He’s had a feed already and I’ve changed two nappies.’
Lee grinned. ‘Oh, well, that will become infinitely less charming by the end of the day, believe me.’ She pointed to the bags by her feet. ‘I stopped at some shops on my way home last night and got some things that will hopefully fit him, until he’s in his proper clothes.’
Tears filled Gisele’s eyes again, her bottom lip wobbling. ‘Oh God, I mustn’t cry again. I can’t stop crying!’ she laughed, but not really, as a sheet of tears raced down her cheeks.
‘It’s completely normal,’ Lee said, grabbing a tissue from the side table and dabbing them for her. ‘I was the same. Cried buckets the first five days after Jasper was born. The doctors were worried I was going to get dehydrated.’
Gisele laughed again, more sincerely this time. She tipped her head as she looked back at her. ‘I just don’t know how to thank you, Lee. Everything you’ve done for me . . .’
‘Oh it’s just some sleepsuits and nappies,’ she pooh-poohed.
‘Not just that. There was St Nicholas’ Eve. And if you hadn’t come over yesterday when you did . . . he might not be here right now.’ Her voice caught on the very idea of it, fresh tears falling as she gazed down again at the tiny bundle in her arms, as though to reassure herself he really was there.
But Lee knew she was no Florence Nightingale figure. ‘Don’t thank me. I should have come over a lot sooner than I did,’ she said ashamedly. ‘I knew you must be struggling, but I just . . . I just didn’t take the news about Harry as well as I might have thought I would.’
Gisele squeezed her hand. ‘I could have come over to you too. It’s been rough on you, I know that.’
‘I didn’t have the world’s press camped out on my doorstep.’
‘Maybe not, but Harry going out there has raked up skeletons for you.’
Lee watched her as she tucked the blanket under her son’s tiny pointed chin, knowing it was time. ‘. . . Gisele, what do you actually know about Harry and me?’ she asked. ‘Has he told you why we . . . fell out?’
Gisele’s shoulders slumped. ‘No – he said it was your story to tell and that only you could tell it.’
‘Oh.’ Lee swallowed, feeling a lump of emotion that he had protected her privacy at least.
‘Believe me, though, I tried everything to get it out of him. When we first got together and I realized there was this . . . rift in the middle of his life; when we’d end up walking past your house, when I found out the only reason he was in Amsterdam at all was because he’d followed you here . . .’ She closed her eyes for a moment, the corners of her mouth pulled downwards. ‘I was convinced he must be in love with you – even though things were so good between us, all I ever heard was how brave you were, how talented, how kind . . .’
Lee looked down at her feet, knowing she was all those things – and much worse besides.
‘He would try to reassure me. He said you were his best friend but that he’d betrayed you. He didn’t say how, but I knew it was bad. He’d wake up in the morning with a look of peace on his face, and then I would see the memory of whatever it was literally climb into his mind and he would change. I used to find him just standing in the garden at dawn, pacing the kitchen in the middle of the night. His spirit was so . . . restless, it was eating him up inside. But I couldn’t help him, he wouldn’t let me in.’ She sighed. ‘So when he left for Syria, and asked me to give you the letter, I knew it was bullshit that he was going for a news story.’
Lee looked down at her words. This was everything she had wanted – wasn’t it? To hear of his torment, his ongoing anguish and guilt for what he’d done and, more