Desired, p.21
Desired, page 21
“Take it easy with Christian,” Libby said. “You’ll have help and you’ll have friends who care about you. That’s what’s important. Come on, let’s take your mind off things for a moment and head back out there.”
She stayed with me for a few minutes, chatting with me about London and telling me a few funny stories about Theo’s latest shenanigans at their university until she was certain I felt better. She went to the same university at Theo, which seemed surprising, since no offense, Theo came off as way less academic.
Libby led me back out to the boys, who were still chatting with each other. Crispin wasn’t holding Christian anymore, and I felt a pang of worry for the baby once he was out of sight. Didn’t Crispin know that people like John Hewett could be lurking around any corner? Anyone could snatch Christian up again.
“He’s in the nursery sleeping,” Crispin addressed me calmly, noticing my nervous glances around the room. “You can check on him if you want.”
I felt this uncontrollable urge to see if he was okay. I nodded and then tiptoed to the nursery and took my first peek at the room Crispin arranged for his nephew. Ben had been right that the cottage was certainly small compared to any other Barclay or Fox residence I’d seen, but Christian was tiny and didn’t need a particularly large bedroom.
The room was a pale sage green and a large white wooden “C” hung on the wall next to the teak crib. The room was minimalist and spotless with a baby monitor and soft lullabies emanating from a small mobile Crispin hung over the cradle. He had redecorated for the baby, most likely to avoid using drugs. The energy he invested paid off.
The boutique mobile had a little orb where the music came from and tiny wooden forest animals spinning around it. The music was peaceful lullaby versions of Tchaikovsky, perfect for a little baby boy’s brain development.
I peered inside the cradle and watched Christian sleep for a few moments. Without his swaddling, I got a proper look at his soft light brown curls and his pale skin. Well, pale compared to me at least. He was a gentle tawny color and he looked so peaceful. I felt more relaxed knowing he was safe and I hurried back out to the living room, where Crispin had served everyone more tea. Libby had asked him about football, so Crispin had a scowl on his face that didn’t disappear until Benjamin brought up a far more interesting subject.
“You asked me about the Grigsbys the last time we spoke on the phone. You know our families are effectively warring?” Benjamin said.
Crispin’s voice was tight. “Yes.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Gordon Grigsby sold my sister drugs,” Benjamin said. “Arabella. He’s recently resurfaced with erm… a new girlfriend.”
I assumed this was Katrina’s brother and when I asked, Libby nodded.
His expression changed when he said the name and Libby took his hand in hers. Ben gave me a funny look, which meant Crispin wasn’t the only one who knew about my mother’s new dating choices.
“Did something bad happen to your sister?” I ventured cautiously.
“She died,” Ben said, his voice tensing. “Overdose.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I whispered.
“You’ve dealt with loss yourself,” Ben responded. “I know you understand. Thank you.”
Crispin shifted nervously. “Gordon’s in town,” he announced.
“You don’t say,” Benjamin responded icily. “Well, he won’t be here for long. I’ve done what you asked, and the Grigsbys agreed to meet with your lawyer. He can’t be within 15 miles of his parents.”
I wanted to ask why, but the conversation just kept going as that was a normal arrangement for a parent to have with their son.
“Thank you,” Crispin said, breathing a loud sigh of relief.
“Um… care to explain?” I asked Crispin. “Katrina has a brother?”
“An older brother. He’s estranged because of his rap career. He goes by Gigabyte but… we all know him as Gordon.”
“Gigabyte is Katrina’s brother?!”
He’d just done a feature with a female rap artist I liked. He wasn’t super famous or anything, but he was well-known in the rap community, which I had a passing interest in now that my parents didn’t control everything I listened to.
I sat up with ears pricked to learn more.
“Yes,” Crispin said. “He’s also a drug dealer but… not for the money. He calls it artistic research. He’s a rich wanker using his skin color to pretend to be something he’s not.”
“He did an interview saying he’s from South London,” Benjamin added. “He’s not. The Grigsbys own several flats in Chelsea and Kensington.”
“Hold on,” I said, piecing everything together. “My mom is dating him!?”
Crispin’s cheeks turned red.
“Darling, I wanted to spare you by not mentioning it in front of our friends.”
Ben smirked. Libby looked shocked.
“I think I need an explanation here!” she said.
“So do I! What the hell is Frances doing dating Katrina’s brother? A freaking rapper? My ex-roommate’s brother? How? Why?”
I wanted to vomit. Frances had always been annoying, but coming to England to basically stalk me and date random rappers had to be a new low. It was like she was just reliving her party girl past now that John Hewett died. Unfortunately, her party girl past was inching closer and closer to my boarding college, which made me massively uneasy. I couldn’t help but think she had something else planned.
At least according to Crispin, they would have to leave town when the Grigsbys came…
Crispin shrugged. Benjamin tucked away some more tea.
“Once Gigabyte and Frances York leave town, I’ll put a tail on them. I love being a dad, but I miss investigating. I’ll find out about your mum, Amina. If you’d like. Liberty insists I put all this behind me but… I have a team of private investigators. Isn’t it better if I put them to use?” He planted a cheeky kiss on Libby’s nose.
“We have four kids,” Libby reminded him. “Once the nannies go home for the night, we’re outnumbered.”
“And believe me, they do battle,” Ben muttered. “But I want to help. Perhaps when you’re finished school, you’ll start a family of your own?”
Ben offered me a warm smile. I could see what Libby liked in him. He didn’t have to say more or do more than the smile. I sensed he knew that I’d been crying and without Libby telling him, he knew why. I felt better with his encouragement and Crispin noticed, slipping his hand into mine and pulling me close to him on the couch.
I felt a little better and gave Crispin a spy-look which he totally didn’t get.
“Should we say something?”
“About…”
Wow, Crispin was no 007.
“The Katrina thing…”
“Oh, right! The crimes…”
“Crimes?” Libby asked.
“We discovered a potential murder plot and we’re taking it to the police. Katrina Grigsby apparently wants to kill her parents for their money.”
Ben shrugged. “It’s happened before. Whose cousins were they… Hargreaves?”
“No,” Crispin said. “Noah Klein’s cousin Tate. His brother killed their mum for early inheritance.”
“How serious is this plot?” Ben asked, stroking his chin as if he were considering a larger idea.
“Serious enough to go to the police,” I said.
“The police?” Libby asked. She was always attentive when the police were mentioned.
“Yes,” Crispin said. “It’s an awfully long story.”
“We only have tonight, Barclay,” Ben commanded. “So tell us. Now. Perhaps Gigabyte is involved…”
After seeking permission from the group chat with me, Jack, and Violet, Crispin told Benjamin everything we discovered. Katrina and Ella’s plan had been one thing, but there were over two hundred rumors and accusations, some true and some false.
“Perhaps after we go to the police, it would be best to leak the transcripts,” Crispin mused. “Get something out there that could potentially lead to legal action. But I wouldn’t want to step on Bainbridge’s toes if she wants it secret.”
“Secrets kill,” Libby said somberly. “But still… couldn’t some of those secrets hurt people if they got out?”
“Yes,” Crispin said. “It’s possible. We aren’t trying to ruin everyone. We aren’t even trying to ruin Katrina. But actions have consequences.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Benjamin Fox answered with a smirk. “If you need help, you can always come to me.”
“Right,” Crispin answered. “Thank you.”
Chapter 31
I rushed to the baby’s room in the morning before Crispin woke up. I didn’t even bother taking off my silk scarf or changing out of my black pajamas. I wanted to make sure Christian was okay. I’d woken Crispin up fifteen times in the middle of the night and I thought he might eat me if I woke him up again. The nanny was supposed to get here around 9 in the morning, which left us a couple hours with Christian.
I was so excited to see him awake when I burst in there. He stared at the elaborate mobile Crispin had assembled over his bed and didn’t exactly look at me when he walked in, but I wanted to believe he recognized me.
“Hi, Christian,” I whispered. “Welcome to Crispin’s house. It’s pretty cool in here, huh?”
He gurgled, which I interpreted as making pleasant conversation.
“Your Uncle Crispin loves you a lot. I think you’ll be really happy growing up with him as a dad.”
There it was again. That strange pang in my stomach. Christian didn’t respond to my latest sentence and I couldn’t blame him. These were pretty complex subjects for a baby that was only a couple months old and had been shuffled around to various houses. It would probably be like four years before he could speak English. Or two? I needed to Google more baby stuff ASAP.
“Is it okay to hold you?” I whispered. I was still afraid to speak to him above a hush in case he started crying. I approached the crib and Christian’s face wrinkled dramatically. I got this sense of dread like something huge was coming and then he opened his mouth and wailed.
WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Crap.
“Did I do that?” I asked him, in total panic. Christian only responded by wailing louder. His face got so freaking red that I didn’t know what to do. I thought he would blow up and then Crispin would definitely eat me if I made his nephew explode on day one.
“Christian, please! Talk to me…”
Of course he wasn’t going to talk to me. I had to be the grownup here. Oh, God… I was already horrible at this. I reached into the crib and picked Christian up, supporting his head like I’d seen Libby doing earlier. She was so good at this stuff. Christian cried until my palm cupped the back of his head and then he just… stopped. I held him against my chest.
“Wow,” I whispered. “You just needed a hug, huh?”
I carried him out of the room. He needed a change too, but I didn’t know where Crispin had all the baby stuff, or if he even brought stuff to change a baby. As I walked out into the kitchen, Benjamin and Libby spilled through the front door. Ben’s arms were laden with cloth grocery bags and Libby was giving him a lecture about self checkout.
“It’s debasing,” Benjamin said. “We ought to have service. From people.”
“It’s not that hard to do your own work, Benjamin.”
“But I like having service,” Ben complained.
“Hey!” I greeted them, walking into the kitchen, holding Christian as carefully as I could. He was awake and calm, but I knew that could change in an instant.
“Yay! You’re awake,” Libby said. “I dragged Ben out of bed because I just had a feeling Crispin didn’t buy all the stuff he needed.”
“We’ve been shopping for hours,” Ben said, sounding very much like he had been.
“Do you have diapers in there?” I asked. “And… do you know how to change one? I think he might have peed in there. Or something.”
“Give it a whiff,” Ben said.
I wrinkled my nose. “Smell his diaper?”
“Come on, get your nose in there,” Ben encouraged.
I gave Mr. Fox a look like he was crazy as hell. Ben smirked.
Libby sighed. “You get used to it.”
I didn’t know if I would ever get used to sniffing a baby’s ass, but I was suffering under peer pressure and didn’t appear to have much of a choice. I put my nose against Christian’s diaper and my eyes watered immediately. I made a loud gagging noise.
“He pooped. It’s an emergency. He pooped.”
My dramatic announcement was interrupted by a loud scream.
“CHRISTIAN!” Crispin yelled from across the house. “HE’S GONE!”
“Calm down!” Libby yelled to him. “He’s right here. Amina has him.”
Crispin came bounding down the hallway, brandishing a little brush from the dustpan in Christian’s room.
“Is that meant to be a weapon?” Benjamin asked, tilting his head to the side.
“I overslept,” Crispin muttered, slowly lowering his dustpan with embarrassment. “I thought he’d been bloody kidnapped.”
Libby laughed. “Amina wouldn’t let that happen. Look at her. She’s great with him.”
I felt my chest surging with pride. Libby had four kids and thought I was great with Christian? Heck yes.
“Exactly,” I said, holding Christian against my chest. “And right now, I’m going to be even more amazing and change his diaper.”
I was really feeling myself, but Crispin was skeptical and probably rightfully so.
“You are?” Crispin asked. “Do you know how?”
“No.”
“Neither do I,” Crispin said, giving me a worried expression. “Fuck. Should we look on YouTube?”
“Um hello?” Libby interrupted. “I’m right here. I’ll teach you two everything you need to know. Okay?”
Crispin and I exchanged nervous glances about the dirty diaper, but we weren’t in any position to deny help. We mumbled gracious thanks and Benjamin offered to start breakfast.
“Since when do you cook?” Crispin teased him.
“Since your cottage failed to come with a chef and I happen to be starving.”
“What are you cooking?” Libby asked in disbelief.
“Oatmeal,” Ben said confidently. “With… almond milk.”
“Fancy,” Libby muttered, probably wishing for eggs Benedict or salmon spread on a bagel.
Ben gave her a proud look and then turned to search for his ingredients in Crispin’s sparsely populated cupboards and fridge. Crispin and I dutifully followed Libby to the baby’s room and Crispin identified the changing table. Oh. I thought it had been a tray to put Christian on display during parties or something, but a changing table made way more sense.
Libby taught us how to change his diaper, which was terrifying, disgusting and then super satisfying when we were done.
“Don’t worry,” Libby said. “You’ll get plenty of practice.”
“I dunno if I can do this Libs,” Crispin mumbled, his cheeks reddening. “I’m in over my head.”
“Amina can help!” Libby said, throwing her arm around my shoulder. I nodded.
“I can’t ask her that,” Crispin muttered sadly. “I’ve asked her for too much.”
I slipped my hand into Crispin’s and squeezed. “Don’t be dumb. I can change a couple diapers.”
“Can you smell that oatmeal?” Libby muttered. “It smells like…”
“Burned oatmeal?” Crispin offered.
“Shit, I’d better go rescue him.”
“I should have cooked,” Crispin said with self-satisfaction.
“It’s the lack of sleep,” Libby said. “I bet he’s asleep right now.”
Sure enough, Ben had fallen asleep standing up while preparing the oatmeal. He gave up and ordered us breakfast for delivery. Crispin ordered three servings of fish and chips, and we went for a run together while we waited for the order.
I’d been getting faster because of cross country and Crispin didn’t have to slow down as much. He was red in the face once we finished, and I teased him, even if I had the unfair advantage of never looking as tired as white people did after a run. Ha ha.
At least running made me hungry. Super hungry. I ate all my breakfast and then stole some fish off Crispin’s plate while he discussed football scores with Benjamin — a subject utterly boring to me. Christian slept in his crib during breakfast, with Crispin casting furtive glances at the baby monitor app on his phone every few minutes.
After breakfast, I couldn’t wait to play with Christian again. Violet and Jack were super excited to meet him and they were driving from Jack Dyson’s home on the coast in the afternoon for the official meeting. I wondered if Katrina knew how close her baby was, or if she was so deeply invested in her little murder plot that she didn’t care. We still didn’t exactly have a plan for that. I was cool focusing on Christian first. He needed to learn that he had a stable family now.
How could anyone meet Christian and not fall in love with him? Katrina had met him, and all she’d done was used her baby as a pawn in several weird little games that I couldn’t understand. What was wrong with her? She’d been our good friend, a little judgmental, but loyal. Then again, she’d lied to us. So maybe she hadn’t been such a good friend after all.
Whatever the case, we couldn’t ever go back to that. Not anymore.
On Sunday, Crispin had his meeting with the Grigsbys, but if he was nervous about that, he didn’t show it at all. He hadn’t mentioned what he was going to say to them about the murder plot we’d discovered, if anything at all. Violet thought we should go to the police first, and I agreed. Let the law deal with Katrina and Ella. I didn’t want us to get in the middle and risk getting into real trouble.
But Crispin was eerily chill, leaning back with a wide stance and that sexy smile on his face like everything was right with the world. In fact, he was all cool like a cucumber in a way that made me a little suspicious.
Crispin sat us all down in the living room and rose, clearing his throat before reaching for index cards from his back pocket.
