by Shari Low
‘I did,’ Celeste answered truthfully. Damn it. He’d taken the blame for that to try to help the relationship between the two women. Not that it mattered now. Whatever happened from here on in, that bridge was fairly certainly incinerated.
Aggs threw him a knowing glance, while Celeste put both hands on the table, as if she was trying to find steady ground to balance her. ‘Aggs, I’m sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I just wanted you to know I’m sorry.’
It had been ten years in coming, but now she’d said it there was a stunned silence until Celeste broke it with another whammy.
‘And, Mitch, you know I owe you an apology too.’
They both knew why. Derek Evans.
‘Why are you saying all this now, Celeste?’ Mitchell asked, with a gut feeling that he already knew the answer.
The resignation was in every word that his wife uttered. ‘Because today pretty much proved that secrets come back to bite you on the arse. And because, this feels like a turning point, you see that, don’t you, Mitch?’
‘We’re done,’ he said, a confirmation, not a threat.
‘We are,’ Celeste said. ‘We should probably have been done a while ago, but I think we were so defensive over what we did, so arrogant about what we thought we deserved, that we were determined to prove a point and make it last.’
He hadn’t thought about it like that, but he knew there was something in what she was saying.
‘Anyway, I’m going to go. I’ll move my stuff out over the next few days.’
Mitchell checked himself for signs of pain, but there were none. This morning he’d woken up fearing that his marriage was over. Now the reality of that was like an incredible pressure being lifted off him.
‘What about Hope?’ Aggs asked.
Celeste got up, obviously having said everything she came to say. ‘I don’t know,’ she answered honestly. ‘Motherhood clearly isn’t my strong point, but I owe it to her to try and I will.’
‘Good luck with that,’ Aggs said with all sincerity. ‘For Hope’s sake, I hope it works out.’
‘Me too. Happy birthday, Aggs.’ It was her parting shot, and for a few seconds after she’d gone, Aggs and Mitchell just stared at the door.
‘I couldn’t be more shocked if George Clooney walked in here naked right now,’ Aggs admitted, giving Mitchell a mental picture he could probably live without. ‘I didn’t think she understood the concept of apologies. First time I’ve ever heard her say sorry.’
Mitchell walked over and took the chair Celeste had just vacated, turning it around and sitting on it backwards, so that he didn’t have to squeeze his legs under the table. ‘It was definitely a first.’
‘And she made the first move,’ Aggs said softly. ‘Why did you take the blame?’
‘Because either way, it was my fault. I let you down. And I didn’t want it to look like I was shirking the responsibility for that.’
He reached over and put down his beer, then took a breath, unable to resist the need to continue the conversation that they’d hinted at earlier. It made so much sense now. Them, the girls, all together. He was ready to cut back on his work, to make changes, to get rid of this bloody indigestion by changing his lifestyle and his priorities. He and Aggs could make it work now. He was sure of it. He just had to make the case for it, to convince her, to make her see how great it could be. ‘Aggs, what we were talking about earlier – I’ve been thinking that we could…’
‘Don’t.’ Aggs stopped him. There was no vehemence there, no anger, just more of the same calm resolve that she’d shown Celeste. ‘Mitchell, I loved you and that will always be there. You’re a fantastic father – if I’m honest, I don’t know that you’d have been so close to the girls if we hadn’t split up and you didn’t have to prioritise making time to see them. Our daughters adore you, and I’m so glad that you’re in their lives and in mine too. I hope that you always will be.’
It was like watching the face of a judge right before she delivered a verdict, and being horribly sure that her demeanour suggested you were going to lose, but hoping beyond hope that you were wrong and about to snatch a seismic victory.
‘But there’s no going back for us. It’s time for me to go and find a new life, and I want one that comes on my terms, not one that’s based on the person I used to be. I’m sorry, Mitchell.’
He considered arguing, but he knew it would be pointless. Time to retreat, perhaps to come back another day, perhaps not.
‘Friends?’ he asked, putting his hand out.
She took it, squeezed. ‘Friends. But, Mitch…’
‘What?’
‘Don’t ever think about sleeping with any of my pals ever again. If you try it on with Val, she’ll kick your head in.’
‘Point taken,’ he surrendered, hands in the air. Friends. Friends who made each other laugh. For now, he’d take it.
In the pause, the sound of chatter from the café drifted through.
‘Are Aaron and the girls still here?’ she asked, surprised, but he could also sense something else in her reaction. She was pleased.
‘Yeah. I asked Skye to look after them and make them something to eat.’
‘Good God, what’s wrong with you? Those poor people have been through enough without being subjected to Skye’s cooking skills.’
She was laughing as she rose, and Mitchell realised now that he’d known since the moment he saw Aggs speaking to Aaron on the pavement that there was unfinished business there.
‘Come on,’ she said, holding her hand out. ‘Let’s go and see what’s happening.’
35
Aaron – 1997
Aaron heard the banging sound first, then the pain seared across from one temple to another, as if his head was in a vice that was being tightened by an invisible force.
What the hell…? Where was he?
His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he realised he was in the hotel room. Relief. But it was only temporary, until the pain shot through his skull again.
Shit, what had he drank? And had someone beaten him up with a baseball bat on the way home? Actually, how had he even got here?
As he tried to wade through the fog, each step coming with another punch to the head, he heard the unmistakable sound of breathing next to him. Aggs was there. He relaxed a little. She was there. His girl was with him and everything was going to be okay. He tried to push back the fear that felt like it was suffocating him, just as some of the mist cleared and…
Fuck, no.
Rewind.
Image after image was playing back now, like watching a movie on fast forward. Aggs had left. He’d gone to the bar. Celeste was with him. They’d got hammered. She’d come back to the room. The dress. The thong. She’d climbed in beside him and…
He lurched from the bed and made it to the bathroom just in time to vomit his guts into the toilet. When there was nothing left but the sour, foetid taste of alcohol and regret, he slid back on to the bathroom floor, his head against the cool tiles of the wall.
What the hell had he done?
Unfortunately, the answer to that question was now playing in excruciating frame by frame detail in his mind. He threw up again, thought about standing, then decided that his legs wouldn’t hold him yet.
Celeste. He’d had sex with Celeste. And he could blame the booze, or his sorrow over Aggs leaving, or a million other reasons he could probably come up with if his brain cells hadn’t been eviscerated by tequila, but he didn’t stand for all that excuses shit when Zac came home moaning about one of the many drunken hook-ups he’d had in the last few years, so he couldn’t cut himself any slack either.
His body, his dick, his decision, his mistake.
Now his skin felt like it was burning on the inside but shivering on the outside and his brain was melting like candle wax too close to a flame.
When he was sure he could move without retching again, he pulled himself up using the basin for support and came face to face with a reflection
he didn’t recognise.
A cheating douchebag. That’s what he was looking at. And what he’d have to look at every day from now on.
The stab of self-loathing felt like it had drawn blood.
He splashed water on his face time and time again, then used his cupped hand to lift cold water to his mouth and drank from his palm.
Still a cheating douchebag.
No amount of water was going to wash that away.
Regardless, he switched the shower on and stepped into it, desperate to wash away all traces of what he’d done.
He stood under the water jets, maybe for a minute, maybe for an hour, yet still he didn’t feel clean.
He’d blown it.
Yes, Aggs had left him, but before he’d slept with Celeste he could have gone after her. He could have jumped on the next flight to the UK and found his way to her. He could have shown her that he was serious, proved that they could find a way to make it work. He couldn’t go now. How could she possibly believe him?
A few hours ago, there was a chance, but now that was gone and all that was left in its place was shame and disgust.
He dried off, wrapped a towel around his waist and went back into the bedroom. Before he even got to the bed, he knew Celeste was awake.
She flicked on the light and he saw that she was up and dressed, pulling on her shoes. ‘I’m going back to my room,’ she told him, as if this was a casual conversation and they’d just had coffee and maybe watched a bit of TV.
‘Celeste, I’m sorry…’
‘For what? Aaron, we were consenting adults. We had sex. End of story.’
End of story. Christ, she was either a heartless piece of work, or like him, she’d made a massive mistake that she was already regretting. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know which shoe fitted.
‘But here’s the thing… you can’t tell Aggs. It goes without saying. That’s the deal. You don’t tell her, I don’t tell her. Do we understand each other?’
What option did he have? Aggs was gone, she’d made her decision. If he went after her, her couldn’t live with lying, but he couldn’t live with the truth either.
Celeste picked up her bag. ‘I’m going to try to change my flight back to London and catch an earlier one, so hopefully I won’t be around the apartment for too much longer.’
He nodded, barely taking in her words. She crossed the room and left to the sound of a soft rub of wood against carpet as the door closed behind her.
Aaron opened the curtains, desperate for light to permeate the darkness. As the sun came up, it brought with it a whole load of devastating realities.
He knew for sure that he’d just made an irrevocable mistake, one that he’d regret until the end of time.
And he knew, with absolute certainty, that he’d destroyed every chance of spending the rest of his life with the woman he loved.
36
Hope
‘Did you call Mum?’ Maisie asked Hope, as she came back into the café from the corridor.
‘I did. She said to tell you she loves you and that you’d better not be acting dramatic.’
Maisie’s first reaction was outraged indignation, then she realised Hope was joking and the two of them dissolved into giggles. For once, Maisie had been the calmest, most reserved aspect of a day that had been packed with more drama than they could ever have anticipated.
‘Hope, lift up your glass,’ Isla chirped, thrusting a bottle of wine towards her from the other side of the table.
Hope obliged, happy to accept the refill and enjoying the company. Aggs’ daughters were lovely. Skye had invited them in and popped open a bottle of wine, while Isla had conjured up a tray of gorgeous mini-wraps and sushi.
There had only been one awkward moment and that was when they’d first come inside. Celeste and Mitchell were, according to Skye, in the back kitchen chatting to Aggs, so that left the five of them – Isla and Skye, Maisie and Hope, and Aaron – sitting round a table, everyone else from the party long gone.
Introductions had been made, and drinks had just been poured when Isla had leaned into the table, puzzled after hearing Hope’s accent. ‘Hang on. I know you’re a friend from years ago,’ she’d said to Aaron, before swinging her question round to Hope and Maisie. ‘But how do you two know Cruella?’
‘Cruella?’ Aaron had clearly been puzzled.
‘Sorry, force of habit. I meant Celeste.’
Cruella? Isla clearly wasn’t a fan then.
Maisie had slowly turned to Hope, eyes wide, an unmistakable smile playing on her lips, as if to say, On you go then, you do the honours.
‘She’s… erm… she’s my mother. My biological mother, I mean. I was adopted,’ Hope had said, with a shrug of fait accompli.
Isla had frozen, staring at Hope’s face. ‘Shit, you’re not kidding, are you?’
‘Nope.’
‘But I thought…’ Skye had rounded on Aaron. ‘I thought you were an old boyfriend of my mum’s?’
Aaron had visibly squirmed and Hope had thought about rescuing him, then decided against it. The truth was the truth and there was no point trying to gloss over it.
‘I was, but… it’s complicated,’ he’d admitted, clearly mortified, stuttering over his words. ‘I had a very brief…’ He’d struggled to find the term. ‘… encounter with Celeste too.’
Stunned, Isla had dropped the bottle on the table, thankfully managing to keep it upright. ‘Holy shit, that woman must have a vagina like a Venus flytrap.’
Aaron had flushed bright red, while Maisie’s gaze had shot to the floor, but Hope could see her sister’s shoulders were shaking.
‘If you’ve finished discussing my vagina…’ Celeste’s voice had rung out loud and clear behind Isla, who’d clenched her eyes tight shut, nose wrinkled, caught in the act. ‘Then I’m going to go home. It’s been a long day,’ she’d said. ‘Hope, can I speak to you before I go?’
‘Of course.’ Face flushed and ignoring the curious glances from around the table, Hope had got up and walked to the door with her.
There, Celeste had fished into her handbag and given Hope a small rectangle of glossy cardboard. Yes, her mother really had just given her a business card. ‘Will you call me tomorrow?’ Celeste had asked.
Hope had nodded, grateful that while Celeste definitely wasn’t warm and bubbly, there seemed to be at least a chance that they could try to build some kind of relationship. ‘I will.’
That had seemed to please Celeste. ‘And just so you know, the medical tests you spoke about earlier…’ When they were sitting outside, Hope had explained more about her condition and the potential need for donor cells in the future. ‘… I’ll give you anything you need.’
‘Thank you. Maybe we could start with a friendship?’ Hope had offered.
For a moment, she’d thought Celeste was going to come in for a hug, but instead, Hope saw her surreptitiously brush away one solitary tear. ‘Yes. Let’s start with that then. I’d like that very much.’
Then she was gone, and Hope had returned to the table, just as Skye had punched her sister’s arm. ‘Venus flytrap?!! Honest to God, you need to tape up that mouth.’
Isla had responded by letting her head fall on the table.
‘This is like looking in a mirror,’ Maisie had laughed. ‘Aaron, do you want to run now? Flee the scene while you can still save yourself?’
Aaron had grinned and it had actually reached his eyes, the first real smile Hope had seen since Celeste had appeared and the truth had emerged. ‘I think I’ll take my chances.’
All tension had dissolved then, and that’s when Hope had gone to call her mum. She’d only given her an edited version of the story. Tomorrow she’d go round to her mum’s house, drink tea, and sit at her kitchen table until all the details were out. Or better still…
‘Aaron, would you come with me tomorrow to meet my mum? My other mum.’
He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. ‘I’d love to.’
‘You k
now, I’ve just realised something,’ Skye announced. ‘If you’re Celeste’s daughter,’ she nodded to Hope. ‘And your Hope’s sister,’ that was to Maisie. ‘And Celeste is married to our dad, then, technically speaking, that makes the four of us almost-kinda-maybe sisters. Wow. I have three sisters. And I already like you two better than Isla,’ she joked, with a wink to her twin.
Hope loved that thought, but before she could reply, Agnetha and Mitchell emerged from the back kitchen. Agnetha joined them at the table, while Mitchell said his goodbyes, kissing both his daughters and then hugging Maisie and Hope in turn.
‘I’m guessing we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other,’ he said to Hope, and she could see that didn’t faze him at all. Her biological mother’s husband seemed to be a decent guy. Yet, she got a feeling that they weren’t very happy together. Perhaps she’d misjudged that. She hoped so.
Agnetha pulled out a chair between Isla and Skye and Hope watched as Aaron followed his old girlfriend’s every move with obvious affection.
‘So, Mum,’ Isla said, pouring wine into an empty glass and handing it over. ‘What do you want to do for your birthday next year? Any more long-lost boyfriends we can track down for you?’
Agnetha shook her head, blushing furiously, but her laughter was infectious. ‘Any chance of a nice quiet day with a cup of tea and a good book?’
‘Talking about boyfriends,’ Skye interjected. ‘What happened to Will. Has he gone?’
Just as Agnetha’s blush was beginning to fade, it flared right back up again. ‘Erm, Will and I have decided that we’re going to go back to being just good friends,’ she said, and Hope caught the way her gaze flicked to Aaron for a split second before she pulled it back again.
Isla and Skye’s eyebrows raised in synchronicity at this announcement. Agnetha didn’t elaborate any further, but she didn’t appear to be too perturbed about this development.
