Page 143 of The Surrender

Rhys chuckles and goes to Jude, bending over his broken body. “This is a first,” he muses. “Remember all those times you whipped the back of my legs with a wet towel when we were kids?”

“F . . . uck . . . offff.”

“And now you’re helpless.”

Casey nudges Rhys in the side. “Do you remember when he tied us up and locked us in the garden shed when Mum made that gâteau? Told her we were playing rugby at the park and ate the fucking lot himself?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Rhys mutters. “I still have scars from the cable ties he used.”

Jude blinks twice, shaking his head, and the three boys continue to banter, teasing each other, chatting. Or blinking.

“So, congratulations,” Casey says, laughing under his breath. Jude rolls his eyes with effort.

“I just need to make a few calls.” I hold up my phone. “Will you stay with him until I’m back?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Casey says, making Jude tilt his head a little. “I’ve taken some leave.”

“Me too,” Rhys pipes in. “We can help look after you.” He drags his gaze across Jude’s broken body. “Jesus, Jude, how fucking fast were you going in that damn car?”

Fast. Because he was chasing me. I shy away from Jude’s eyes when he looks at me, slipping out of the room, guilt crippling me. Why didn’t I just stop?

I put myself on a chair in the corridor and text the girls before I check in with my parents. “He’s come round.”

“Oh, thank God,” Dad breathes. “Jenn! Jude’s awake.”

Clark’s suddenly on the other end of the phone. “Amelia?”

“Hey.”

“Fuck, you sound knackered.”

I pull a hand through my hair. It desperately needs washing. “I am.”

“How’s he doing?”

“They’ve removed the tube from his throat. He’s struggling to talk.”

“So it’ll be a while until he can repay me for the black eye I gave him.”

I laugh lightly. “Probably. Have you told Mum and Dad you’re expecting yet?”

“I wanted to talk to you first.”

“Why?”

“Well, what with Jude and—”

“Tell them,” I order. “It’s great news. And, Lord knows, we all need something to smile about.” My phone beeps an incoming call, and I pull it away from my ear, seeing who’s calling. “Listen, I have to go. Jude’s going to be fine. Go tell them about the baby. I’ll call later, okay?” I hang up and take a few moments to myself. I’ve been ignoring Gary’s calls, unable to talk to anyone, really. I’m ready. “Hi.”

“Amelia,” he breathes. “You’ve quit?”

“Resigned,” I say. “I can’t work with people like Leighton Steers, Gary. He’s too cutthroat for me.” I don’t need to put myself up for that kind of competition. It wasn’t about work anymore.

“Jesus, Amelia. Leighton’s been suspended with immediate effect.”

“What? Why?”

“He was sleeping with Tilda Spector.”