Electric Touch | Jude Bellingham

Chapter 27

Lexi

Evelyn showed us round the house. It was huge, it could fit our childhood home in it about six times. The weird thing is, it didn't feel like a home. There was something about it that just felt odd, but I didn't say anything as I followed my parents back into the reception room.

Evelyn looked different, she was wearing different clothes, had her hair differently, the way she sat was different, nothing about her looked like my sister. Tea and biscuits were brought in by one of her staff which gave me the perfect opportunity to escape.

"I need to call Alex, it's about the baby," I said breaking the awkward small talk between Evelyn and our mum.

"Ok, you can go in the kitchen if you want," she pointed round the corner. I nodded and left the room.

However my next stop was not the kitchen and I did not need to call my husband. I needed to do some research. Ever since that Vanity Fair article emerged, something didn't sit right with me. I knew my sister like I knew my own mind and there was something wrong. So, I recruited some help.

3 days earlier

"Jobe?" I said down the phone as I scrolled through the article on my iPad. "When was the last time you spoke to your brother?"

"Lexi, it's 6:30 am," I croaky voice answered.

"Yes it is. Have you spoken to Jude?"

"You mean about the article?" He replied. "No I haven't, he just got on a plane and went back to Madrid."

I sighed. "That's what I was afraid of."

"Lexi, I'm not sure if there's anything you can do. You read the article, Evelyn said she loved what's his name."

"Ok, maybe there's nothing I can do, but we can try and fix this, because this isn't the Evelyn either of us know," I said, banking on the fact that Jobe was injured and had nothing to do for the next few weeks.

"We shouldn't meddle in their relationship."

"This isn't meddling, it's adjusting."

After a long pause and a sigh he replied with a yes and I got to scheming.

Present day

"Ok so I'm upstairs," I said quietly into my phone. Jobe was in Madrid with Jude, trying to contain an explosion.

Me and Jobe were like a team. Even though there was an 8 year gap between us, we had a great friendship, especially since Jude and Evelyn be an inseparable.

"What's it like? Are there maids everywhere, and armour and big paintings?"

"Jobe, this is a townhouse in Mayfair not a medieval castle."

"It's all the same to me. You know Jude had barely spoken to me, only thanked me for buying the pizza before going back to his room."

"Evie is the same, looked really strange as we walked in." I walked down the corridor, doors on my left and right. I tired some double doors in the centre of the corridor, but it was locked. "That's strange."

"What is?"

"This door is locked, but it just looks like a bedroom," I tried again, but it was definitely locked.

"Maybe they don't trust their staff?" Jobe suggested.

"Maybe," but something told me there was something missing, so I continued down until the I saw a door slightly ajar.

I opened it and immediately realised that this was Evelyn's. It was a mess for a start, but there was a tiny photo of the family on our first abroad holiday to France, hidden behind a pile of uni books. I slipped in and quietly shut the door.

"Jobe, they sleep in separate rooms."

"That's weird, aren't they madly in love or something?"

I walked towards her desk. Again, it was full of crap, so I opened the draws and pulled out a few pieces of loose paper. I shuffled through old receipts and scraps of calculations until I hit the jackpot.

I gasped. "She's written everything down."

"What?"

"All her notes from the article, she's practically got a script for every single answer and all the questions, she was completely prepared. But this isn't her handwriting."

"So, it wasn't real, she didn't really mean it?"

"Exactly, this was all written for her. Ok Jobe, this is what I need you to do, find out exactly what happened between Evie and Jude."

"That's impossible, he leaves his room twice a day, once to collect food, and the other to leave for training," he scoffed.

"It's the only way, you have to at least try."

"I will, but if we end up getting into a huge irreparable argument and never speak to each other again, it's your fault."