Fiona and the Whale by Hannah Lynn

Author:Hannah Lynn [Lynn, Hannah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

‘Sorry.’ There was a jarring of her head as Octavia blinked repeatedly. ‘Could you just repeat that? You feel my wedding is a grotesque extravagance for the sake of satisfying my own ego.’

An increase in air temperature caused the sweat on Fiona’s palms to reappear and multiply.

‘It doesn’t have to be,’ she said hurriedly, sensing that perhaps she’d laid it on a little too thick a little too soon. ‘It doesn’t. It’s just the way it is now—’

‘The way it is now, is the way I want it. It’s the way I’ve spent the last nine months preparing it.’

‘But surely you can see it’s not necessary. Not all of it. One hundred white Christmas trees? For one day? Why do you need them?’

‘It’s not a case of what I need. It’s my wedding day. It’s the only one I’m planning on having. And I need them because they’re what I want.’

‘For crying out loud, could you sound like more of a brat?’

That was when she knew she’d blown it.

‘Octavia,’ Fiona reached out her hands, trying to take her client’s, only to have her stand up and snatch them away. ‘Look, I’m sorry. Please, please sit down. Let me explain to you where I’m coming from.’

‘I think you’ve explained enough.’

‘Honestly, there’s a reason.’

‘Other than calling me in here to tell me I’m a grotesque selfish socialite.’

‘That’s not what I said.’

‘Not in so many words.

Octavia span around and plucked her bag off the floor. Fiona’s eyes moved helplessly from one side of the room to the other, searching for anything that could help her. Her eyes fell on the small corner of the photograph sticking out of her own handbag. She wasn’t wrong. Not about this. Martha needed her to do this.

‘You have a choice here, Octavia. You could do something great. You could make a difference. You talk about wanting to help and all the anaemic dogs—’

‘Arthritic dogs.’

‘What does it matter? It’s all bullshit.’

‘Pardon?’ Octavia’s jaw hung open.

‘Seriously. I mean it. You go to charity galas and have your friends over to discuss what tiny fraction of their billions you should donate to people who have had their legs blown off in worn torn countries, or to give to the orangutans because their rainforest homes are being decimated, but you still keep your millions squirrelled away in your bank accounts. Oh yes, I know you care, you just don’t care enough to give up your way of life. To give up on all your luxuries. I mean, when it comes down to it, when it comes down to doing something, something that would actually make a difference. You won’t. And why? Because I’m right. You don’t care. You care about the image that caring about these things portrays.’ She was going for broke. There was no way to pretend otherwise. She might as well tell it like it was through to the very end. ‘And do you know what? Sod whatever I said before. You’re right. You’re just an egotistical, selfish socialite.

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