Page 178 of The Love Letter

I’ll miss you too, he’d said.

‘Oh God! I bloody love him!’ she moaned, knowing she was wallowing in self-pity, when no one in the world would feel anything but envy for her. Yet she currently felt like the loneliest person on Earth . . .

Her mobile rang. Standing up, she saw it was Jamie and grabbed it.

‘Hi, darling,’ she said as brightly as she could. ‘How are you?’

‘Oh, okay. Just wondered what we were doing for half-term next week?’

‘I . . . well, what would you like to do?’

‘Dunno. Just get away from school. And England.’

‘Okay, darling. Then yes, let’s book something.’

‘Can you do that? Now you’re living at the palace?’

‘I . . .’ It was a good point. ‘I’ll find out.’

‘Okay. At least Simon can come and collect us, can’t he?’

‘Jamie, Simon’s not here any more.’

‘Oh.’ Zoe heard the catch in her son’s voice. ‘I’ll miss him.’

‘Yes. So will I. Listen, I’ll talk to Art and see what we can do.’

‘Okay,’ Jamie repeated, sounding as miserable as she felt. ‘Love you, Mumma.’

‘I love you too. See you next Friday.’

‘Yeah. Bye.’

Zoe ended the call and walked to the windows, which overlooked the glorious palace gardens. And longed to open the door, run down God-knew-how-many flights of stairs and along countless corridors covered in priceless rugs, and escape into them. In the past ten days, she’d nearly gone mad with claustrophobia – which sounded ridiculous as the palace was enormous. It had felt like the day when she had been trapped at the Welbeck Street house. Except then, she’d been with Simon, who had made it okay.

How she longed to be beyond those high walls, to be allowed to walk out of her front door and along the road to the shop, alone, to buy a pint of milk. In here, her every wish was the staff’s command – anything she wanted was hers. Except for the freedom to come and go as she chose.

‘I can’t do this,’ she whispered to herself, and then felt shocked by voicing her feelings for the first time. ‘I’ll go mad. Oh God, I’ll go mad . . .’

Zoe left the window, then paced up and down the enormous bedroom, trying to think what to do.

Did she love Art enough to sacrifice everything else that she was? Let alone the happiness of her child? What life would it be for him? She was aware after ten days at the palace that the ‘family’ view was that he should be kept well in the background. She’d tried to ask Art what that meant in reality.

‘He’s got another eight years at boarding school anyway, darling. And we can sort out the holidays as we go.’

‘This is your son,’ Zoe had hissed.

There was a knock at her door.

‘Coming,’ she shouted through it. Stuffing her mobile into the tiny bag that the stylist had chosen to match her dress, Zoe took a deep breath and walked to the door.

Simon barely made it to the gate on time.

‘Can you board now, Mr Warburton? Your flight is already closing.’

‘Of course.’ Simon was handing over his boarding pass and passport when he heard his mobile ring.

He looked at the number and saw it was Zoe. He answered immediately. He couldn’t help it.