‘Sinead,’ he said, waving the phone at her before shoving it back in his pocket. ‘Everyone’s meeting for breakfast in about half an hour. We’d better go and get ready.’
They walked back to the hotel in silence, Romy frantically scrabbling around in her brain for something she could say to allay his suspicions. If she was too defensive, it would just have the opposite effect, but she needed to say something. She felt she had let Kit down.
‘Ethan,’ she began as they got to their floor and were about to part ways. ‘What you said—’
‘Forget it,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ll see you at breakfast.’
‘Yeah, see you.’ She felt deflated that she wasn’t going to get to say her piece – though she still wasn’t sure exactly what she would have said.
‘And thank you for the dance,’ he said before turning and striding down the corridor to his own room.
Kit was up and dressed when Romy got back to the room. She felt she should tell him what Ethan had asked her, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. He was so happy that they were fooling everyone, and she didn’t want to upset him by telling him otherwise – not yet anyway. They went down to breakfast together after she had showered and dressed, joining Ethan and Sinead, who were already seated at a large table. Other members of the wedding party gradually filtered in to join them.
Kit was as attentive to her as he had been the previous night, back in the role of solicitous boyfriend now that they were in public again, but Romy felt horribly self-conscious, aware of Ethan and Hannah watching them and not buying it. She was glad now that she hadn’t told Kit. She would hate him to feel as embarrassed and uncomfortable as she did. It wasn’t just knowing that Ethan and Hannah suspected their relationship was bogus; she felt awful about deceiving Laura and Colm, and it gave her no satisfaction that they were taken in by her and Kit’s act. It was different when she thought they might get together for real. Now that she knew that wasn’t going to happen, she felt very awkward playing his girlfriend in front of them, and much as she loved them, she was anxious to get away.
There was also the fact that her behaviour around Ethan was becoming worryingly crush-like. She found her eyes constantly straying in his direction throughout breakfast, and she didn’t even want to name the emotion she felt as he fussed over Sinead. Their dance on the lawn hadn’t helped, bringing a warm, fuzzy feeling every time she thought of it. Sinead looked rested and well taken care of, Romy thought with a pang of resentment. And she seemed to have worked up a gargantuan appetite, putting away vast quantities of food, Ethan smiling indulgently at her as he passed her yet more soda bread.
All things considered, she was itching to get away, so when Laura invited her to dinner at their house later on, she didn’t hesitate to decline.
‘Thanks,’ she said, ‘but I really need to get home and collect Luke from Danny’s.’ She was looking forward to having a quiet night in with her son. It was amazing how much she’d missed him, even though she had only been away for one night.
‘Oh, is Danny babysitting him?’ Kit asked. ‘I thought it was your mum.’
‘No, mum’s away on holiday at the moment – in Egypt.’
‘Oh, right.’
‘She’ll be back next week, though, so she’ll take him when we go down to the house.’ Romy had decided they should fix up the gate lodge first so it was fit for her and Luke to move into before starting work on the main house. It wouldn’t take much to make it liveable, and it was all work they could do themselves, which would save money for the rest of the renovations. She had suggested organising a working party for the following weekend, roping in as many people as they could to help so that they could get the work done quickly.
‘Fancy a weekend in the country?’ Kit asked Sinead now. ‘Unlimited fresh air in exchange for a lot of hard work.’
‘You’re not selling it properly,’ Romy said to him. ‘You didn’t even mention the beer. There’ll be beer,’ she said to Sinead. ‘And wine. It’ll be fun.’
‘Next weekend? It sounds great, but I’ll be in Paris.’
‘Oh, shame. That makes Ethan my only recruit,’ he said to Romy.
‘You’re coming?’ Romy asked Ethan.
‘Yeah, definitely.’
‘He’s not starting his new job until January, so he’s going to help us with the house,’ Kit told her.
‘Oh?’ Romy said to Ethan. ‘Have you got skills?’
‘I’m a pretty decent carpenter,’ he said. ‘And I’m good at the general grunt work.’
‘Oh God,’ Kit groaned, ‘don’t get him started on his time building houses in South Africa.’
‘You did?’ Sinead looked at him in surprise. ‘I never knew that.’
‘It was just a volunteer thing I did in my gap year.’
‘It’s a pity Tank will be away on honeymoon,’ Kit said. ‘He’d be good at the demolition side of things.’
‘I thought I’d ask Danny to come,’ Romy said to Kit. ‘He could take a look at the grounds, maybe make a plan for the gardens.’
‘That’d be brilliant! We can ask him when we go to collect Thingummy.’
‘We? Aren’t you going to dinner at your parents’?’ Laura had a big family get-together planned with some of the relations who had come to the wedding and she had assumed Kit would be going.
‘Well, since you’re not, I thought I should spend the night with you and—’
‘Luke.’
‘Yeah. I mean, I’m sort of his dad now, amn’t I?’
‘What do you mean?’ Romy looked at him aghast, her heart hammering. How could he have found out?
‘Well, you know, because we’re … going out together. That sort of makes me his father, doesn’t it?’
‘Er … no. It really doesn’t.’
‘Okay, stepdad.’
‘Still no.’
‘Isn’t the mother’s boyfriend usually called a stepdad?’
‘Maybe if they’re living together. Certainly not when they’ve only been going out for about a week.’
‘Oh. Still, I’m sort of the father figure in his life now, amn’t I? He’s a boy – he needs a male role model.’
Romy smiled, glad that Kit was so willing to be part of Luke’s life. Even if they weren’t going to be together, she felt he would be a good father to Luke. ‘Well, there’s plenty of time for that. He’s only four months old. You should go for dinner with your family tonight. You can show him how to be a man another time.’
‘Oh. Okay.’
‘And see who else you can rope in for next weekend,’ Romy said. ‘Call in all your favours.’
‘I don’t really have any to call in.’
‘Don’t worry,’ she said, smiling. ‘I have loads.’
‘It’ll be fun,’ she said to Lesley the next day when she dropped in for coffee. ‘Road trip, a weekend in the country, lots of wine. We’ll bring sleeping bags and camp out indoors.’
‘Does it count as a road trip if you’re only going to Wicklow?’
‘We’ll be driving there. On the road.’
‘Fair enough. Will I be able to smash stuff up?’ Lesley asked.
‘You can smash stuff up and tear stuff down to your heart’s content.’
A little smile curled at the edges of Lesley’s mouth. ‘Can I have a lump hammer?’
‘Of course you can have a lump hammer. I’ll reserve one just for you.’
‘Right, I’m in.’ She shook her head ruefully at Romy. ‘You know all my weaknesses.’
‘I do. Resistance is futile.’
‘So anyway, tell me all about the weekend. How did the vanilla seduction go?’
‘It was a total bust.’
‘What?’ Lesley shrieked. ‘When I didn’t hear from you, I assumed … what happened?’
‘Nothing,’ Romy said flatly. ‘Absolutely bugger all.’
‘Wait,’ Lesley said, grabbing Romy’s arm and pulling her up.
‘To the incident nook,’ Lesley said, dragging Romy into the study and over to the whiteboard in the corner.
Romy glanced at the board. It had changed since the last time she saw it. Now the Darth Vader in the centre had Kit’s face stuck on. On one side was written ‘BDSM’ with a picture of a butt plug taped beneath it, on the other ‘Vanilla’ with a picture of an ice-cream cone, and at the bottom was the word ‘Gay’ with a picture of Elton John.
‘Okay,’ Lesley said, folding her arms, ‘tell me everything. He didn’t recognise the sex toys?’ She pointed to the butt plug.
‘No. He obviously had no idea what they were. He’s definitely not into BDSM.’
‘So you proceeded to phase two – the vanilla seduction.’ She waved at the ice-cream cone.
‘Yes, and it seemed to be going really well. He was all over me at the reception, and I got quite, you know, wound up. But then when we went back to the room, it was like he threw a switch and just turned it off.’
‘Did you show him your underwear?’
‘Yes! At first, I thought maybe he was trying to be a gentleman and didn’t think I’d be up for it.’
‘But you put him straight on that?’
‘Definitely.’
‘And there’s no way he could have misread your signals? You know, there’s such a thing as too subtle. Sometimes, you can err on the side of Doris Day.’
‘I crawled on top of him wearing practically nothing and started kissing him.’
‘Nice move – very proactive.’
‘Thank you.’
‘And what did he do?’
‘He – he tucked me in!’
‘He did what?’
‘He said I’d get cold and I should get into bed. And then he tucked me in, and we watched TV.’
‘You’re joking!’
‘No.’
Lesley looked at Romy in silence, chewing her lip. ‘That’s it, then – he’s gay,’ she said finally.
‘But he’s not! I used to go out with him, remember?’
‘That doesn’t mean anything. Lots of gay men start out with girlfriends. Elton, if you remember,’ she said, rapping her knuckles on his picture, ‘even had a wife at one point.’
‘I suppose.’ Romy frowned, struggling to get her head around the idea.
‘Look at the facts.’ Lesley turned to the whiteboard. ‘He’s not kinky,’ she said, pulling off the picture of the butt plug. ‘He’s not vanilla.’ She removed the ice-cream cone. ‘What does that leave?’
Romy looked at the board. ‘Elton John,’ she said. ‘He’s Elton John.’
‘You jumped him in your underwear and he tucked you into bed, for feck’s sake! What more proof do you need?’
‘It was really nice underwear too,’ Romy mused.
‘I’m sure it was.’
‘But that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s gay. Maybe he just doesn’t fancy me.’
‘I’ve seen you in your underwear. It’s not you, it’s him.’
The more Romy thought about it, the more obvious it seemed. Except … ‘He wasn’t gay that night at David’s party.’
‘Well … maybe that was a once-off for him. Or he could swing both ways. Look, why don’t I put a tail on him so we’ll know for sure?’ Lesley said.
‘No, don’t do that. What does it matter? Anyway, he’s entitled to his secrets.’ If he were gay, Kit clearly didn’t want anyone to know – including her.
‘So, what happens now?’ Lesley asked.
‘Now I have to tell him about Luke.’
Romy had been agonising over a way to bring up the subject of David’s fateful Hallowe’en party. She didn’t want to freak Kit out, but now that she knew where they stood, she had to tell him that he was Luke’s father – she just couldn’t think how to start. But a couple of nights later, she was reading through the TV listings in the paper when something caught her eye.
‘Oh,’ she said to Kit, ‘The first two Star Wars movies are on tonight. Let’s have a marathon.’
‘Really?’ Kit frowned. ‘What is it with you and Star Wars? I don’t remember you being such a fan.’
‘Well, I’ve developed a bit of a thing for Darth Vader,’ she said with a playful smile. ‘I think it’s the mask, and the air of mystery.’
‘Oh!’ Kit’s eyebrows shot up.
Shit! He looked totally freaked out. So much for introducing the subject in a light, casual way.
‘I have very fond memories of a night I spent with a masked man.’ She gave him a significant look.
‘Oh, right.’ Kit tugged at his collar. He appeared to be breaking out in a sweat. ‘Um … cup of tea?’ he asked, shooting off the sofa and practically running to the kitchen before she could even open her mouth to answer.
‘Yes, please,’ she said to his retreating back.
Well – that went well, she thought, smiling wryly to herself.
In the kitchen, Kit put the kettle on and stood waiting for it to boil while he took deep breaths and tried to calm himself down. Jesus, why did Romy suddenly feel the need to regale him with the details of her penchant for masked sadists? He really didn’t want to hear about it. And now she insisted on bringing up that awful night at David’s party. He drew out the process of making the tea, stalling for time while he tried to think of a way to change the subject when he went back to the living room. If only he knew how to do a Chinese tea ceremony …
He didn’t want to think about that night ever again. He should never have got so drunk. If he hadn’t been completely arseholed there was no way he’d ever have let that fat fuck David talk him into a threesome. The mere thought of his big stupid head sticking out of that Shrek costume made him want to puke. And by some horrible, ludicrous twist of fate, it turned out Romy was the woman he’d roped in as the token third party – token because it quickly became clear that the threesome was just a pretext for David to satisfy his bi-curiosity by shagging another man. It hadn’t taken long for Red Riding Hood to figure out that she was surplus to requirements. After some cursory fumbling with her breasts, David had completely ignored her while he concentrated on fucking Kit’s mouth with his tongue and groping his crotch. Eventually, she’d got pissed off and left in a huff.
He hated knowing that that was Romy, and he couldn’t understand why she would want to talk about it. Even if that was the sort of thing she was into, she must have been annoyed that she hadn’t been included more. He just never wanted to think about that night again as long as he lived.
Finally, he had no option but to return to the living room with the tea. ‘So I got a text from Hannah,’ he said as he entered the room, determined to cut Romy off before she could go back to the topic of David’s party. ‘They seem to be having a brilliant time,’ he said as he handed Romy her mug. ‘The weather is fantastic. They went on a boat yesterday. Tank got a bit sunburned and—’
‘Kit,’ Romy interrupted, almost shouting. ‘About that night at David’s party—’
‘Please, let’s just never mention it again.’
‘We need to talk about it,’ she said firmly.
‘But why?’ Kit wailed desperately.
‘Because—’
Oh Christ, she’s not going to suggest we have another go, is she? ‘Look, I’m sorry about what happened – and I’m sure you are too. But can’t we just forget about it?’
‘No, because—’
‘I don’t usually do that sort of thing—’
‘Well, me neither, but—’
‘And I didn’t even go through with it that time, so—’
‘But—’ Romy began, but then she suddenly went very still. ‘Wait – what do you mean you didn’t go through with it?’
‘I mean, I didn’t, you know … have sex with …’ Kit trailed off, blushing.
‘But you did.’
‘No. I don’t know what he told you, but—’
‘No one told me anything.’ Romy was flailing around now, looki
ng very confused. ‘I was there, Kit.’
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘You left, remember?’ Finally, she’d gone quiet and he could say his piece.
‘What are you talking about?’ she asked now in a faint voice.
He sighed heavily. ‘At David’s party. When the three of us—’
‘What three of us?’
‘You, me and David.’
‘David?’ She frowned. ‘David wasn’t there. It was just us …’ Then she gasped suddenly, and her eyes flew to his. ‘Kit, what costume where you wearing?’
‘Vampire.’ He frowned. Didn’t she already know that?
‘Oh my God!’ she gasped, pressing a hand to her forehead. ‘I don’t believe it! You weren’t Darth Vader?’
‘Darth Vader? No,’ he said, frowning. ‘I thought … you mean that wasn’t you – in the Red Riding Hood costume?’
‘No.’ She shook her head weakly. ‘There was … someone else at the party dressed as Red Riding Hood. It must have been her.’ She gave a weak mirthless laugh. She was so stunned, it took her a while to realise that she was also disappointed, and sad that it wasn’t Kit. She had got to really like the idea that he was Luke’s father, and even if there was no hope of a real relationship between the two of them, he was shaping up to be a good dad.
‘So what happened with you and this Darth Vader, then?’
‘It’s just … I sort of have something of his …’ She shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said, blinking rapidly.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah, fine.’
Oh, God, Kit thought, was she going to cry? He swallowed hard. ‘Look, sorry I cut you off there. If you want to talk about that night, we can.’
‘No, it’s okay. What happened at David’s party stays at David’s party. Okay?’
‘Okay,’ Kit said, breathing a sigh of relief. ‘So, will I make popcorn?’
‘What?’
‘For this Star Wars marathon. If you still want to do that?’
‘Oh, yeah. I do.’ It was probably the only way she would ever see Darth Vader again.
Chapter Eighteen
‘You’re sure your mother really doesn’t mind babysitting for the weekend?’ Romy asked Kit the following Friday morning as they loaded Luke’s paraphernalia into her van. The trip to the house in Wicklow had almost been cancelled when Romy’s mother had returned from Egypt with a severe case of food poisoning. But then Laura had stepped in and offered to take Luke for the weekend instead.
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