Driving Me to Christmas (London Loves Book 5)

by Farrell, Julie

  “I knew that bitch was up to no good,” Scott said. “I told you she’s not to be trusted.”

  Sam’s sobs erupted, and she wept hysterically into Scott’s chest. He smoothed down her hair and frowned at Paul.

  “Scott,” Paul said, “why don’t you take Sam through to the living room? I’ll make the tea.”

  “Good idea. Come on, Sam. Paul’s gonna make you a nice cup of tea, and you can tell us all about it.”

  Sam snivelled. She nodded, then allowed Scott to lead her by the hand into the living room. Paul hurried into the kitchen and put the kettle on. He grabbed the cordless phone and scrolled through for Verlaine’s mobile number. What the fuck did that idiot think he was doing!

  Verlaine answered as if he was distracted. “Hey, Paul.”

  “Where are you? Sam’s here in tears! She said you were having sex with Rebecca.”

  “Oh Jesus, of course I wasn’t! Do you really think I’d do that? It was a mistake – Rebecca sent me some text messages which I thought were from Sam. I–”

  A woman in the background interrupted, protesting her innocence.

  “You’re not still with Rebecca, are you?”

  “I’m driving her back to the house.”

  “Yeah, well I suggest you drop her off and turn straight back for London. Your girlfriend’s in hysterics, and you’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

  “Sam told me she didn’t want me anywhere near her.”

  “Verlaine, now’s not the time to start acting like a twat. Let’s not forget who just got caught in the arms of his ex-girlfriend.”

  “I know. I was gonna come find her as soon as I dumped Rebecca.”

  Rebecca’s voice protested against Verlaine’s unfriendly tone.

  “I’ll see you very soon, then,” Paul said. “Don’t be long. And don’t allow yourself to be distracted.”

  “Yeah, I know. Thanks.”

  Paul hung up and made the tea, then he took it back into the living room to find Sam and Scott sitting on the sofa together, chatting about what she’d seen in the car.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Verlaine didn’t even turn the engine off when he got back to the house. He was furious with this whole situation. How could Sam think he’d ever cheat on her? And what the fuck did Rebecca think she was playing at, sending him anonymous sexy text messages? He’d decided not to confront her about it in the car, because he didn’t want to hear any more of her bullshit. So he simply dropped her off and drove back down the cliff road, flicking on his windshield wipers as the snow flurried outside. He knew it was probably unwise to drive in these conditions, but he needed to get back to Sam, to make sure she knew this was all a terrible mistake.

  His heart thumped with sadness at how upset she’d been. And of course she’d been upset. If he’d discovered Sam like that with an ex, the ex would’ve found his head pummelled into the ground. Sam’s reaction had actually been pretty calm and measured.

  When he arrived back in London, he was glad to find that the snowstorm hadn’t touched the city. It hardly ever snowed around here, because of the heat from the pollution and the high-rise buildings packed in together like dominoes. But he loved this place. It was his home now. His heart was here, and so was Sam. Wherever she was, he knew he’d be at home, because she made him feel so secure and content. He knew he was lucky to have such a wonderful woman in his life. The thought of ever losing her rusted his spirits, causing a riot of terror in his soul. He refused to let that happen; she was part of him now, and losing her would be like losing a limb.

  He parked the T-bird in a space outside Paul and Scott’s house, then braced himself for an upset girlfriend.

  Paul answered the door, and smiled tenderly. “Hey, Verlaine. Come in.”

  “Thanks.”

  They hugged loosely in their usual way, making sure their bodies didn’t touch. Scott was different – when he hugged you, you got a full frontal body slam.

  Verlaine stepped into the hallway and turned to face the living room door. Music was playing, and he heard Scott shriek playfully, then Sam giggle. A flash of envy washed through him. Had Rebecca been right about Sam and Scott?

  Verlaine turned to face Paul, who winced affectionately. “Are you gonna go and apologise, then?”

  “Er, yeah, sure.”

  He shook away his paranoid possessiveness, reminding himself that he was actually the one who’d just been caught in a compromising position. Then he pushed open the living room door, and strolled inside. Sam looked relaxed, sitting on the sofa next to Scott – so different to when he’d seen her an hour ago. They were engrossed in a conversation, and Scott was painting her nails with a deep red nail varnish. The huge comfy leather sofa took up one side of the tiny room, and Sam and Scott looked small on it, like children; vulnerable and innocent; playing together.

  Scott glanced up as Verlaine walked further in. Paul followed.

  “Do you want some tea, Verlaine?” Paul asked.

  The sound of his name made Sam look up. Her beautiful smile faded, and her eyes welled with tears, which made Verlaine feel like a scumbag.

  Paul turned down the Christmas party music that was streaming from Scott’s phone, and the atmosphere suddenly became tense and chilly. Sam was staring at Verlaine, looking devastated.

  He wanted to comfort her in his arms, but he knew he needed to earn back that right. “Baby, I swear it was a terrible mix-up. Do you really think I’m the sorta guy who’d do that?”

  “I’m not sure. Gemma’s always saying I’m stupid and naïve. Too forgiving. What if this is one of those moments?”

  Paul gestured for Verlaine to sit down in the velour armchair, and Paul rested on the arm of the chair with him. It felt as if they were divided – Paul was Verlaine’s back-up, and Scott was Sam’s. Verlaine knew who the best person was to appeal to here. He shot Scott an entreating expression of assistance.

  Scott inspected Verlaine, as if he was trying to decide whether he could possibly be guilty. His stern expression fell away, and it was replaced by Scott’s usual tender smile.

  “Sam,” Scott said, “I doubt Verlaine did it intentionally. I believe him. I think Rebecca set him up. Possibly on purpose, but maybe she was mistaken, too.”

  “She was drunk,” Verlaine said. “And feeling low and lonely.”

  “Well that’s not a reason to seduce someone else’s man,” Scott said. “And I suggest you don’t take her side too much, Verlaine.”

  “No, I know.”

  “She’s a manipulative bitch. I wouldn’t be surprised if she planned this whole thing.”

  Paul frowned pensively. “She can’t have known Sam would find them in the car, though, muffin.”

  “No, maybe not, but it sounds like she intentionally tried to trick Verlaine.”

  “You really don’t like her, do you?” Paul asked.

  “No. Even less so now.”

  Verlaine sighed. “You might be right, Scott. She’d even done her hair like Sam’s. And she was wearing clothes like Sam’s, too.”

  Sam looked uncomfortable. “Was she?”

  “Yeah.”

  Sam blew on her wet nail varnish. “I do feel sorry for her. I mean, her dad’s just died; I know how that feels. She probably just needed some attention and comfort from a familiar person.”

  “Now you’re being too forgiving,” Paul said.

  “No,” Sam said. “She must be feeling upset. I mean, only an upset person would move in on someone’s man like that, wouldn’t they? I think I should talk to her; she must be feeling terrible at the moment.”

  The three men exchanged glances.

  “And now you’re being stupid and naïve,” Scott said.

  Sam burst into laughter. Verlaine loved the way that even an insult couldn’t taint her pure heart.

  “I can’t help but feel sorry for her,” Sam said. “Verlaine, I’d like us to drive back to the house and see her. Do you know if that’s where she went?”

  “Er,
yeah; I drove her there.”

  “Oh. Well, I guess you couldn’t just leave her in the middle a rainstorm, could you.”

  “No. And it’s been snowing, too.”

  Sam smiled affectionately. Verlaine hoped he was on the way to being forgiven.

  “I’d never hurt you, Sam.”

  “I know. But you can understand why I was upset?”

  “Of course – anyone would be.”

  Sam winced. “I guess my suspicious mind is heightened after everything Gemma told me about Patrick.”

  “Who’s Patrick?” Scott asked.

  “Our Rolls Royce dealer,” Verlaine said.

  “You said he was a smarmy twat, didn’t you?” Paul asked.

  “Yeah, he’s a twat. But he’s a charming twat.”

  Sam cleared her throat. “Scott, Paul – don’t breathe a word of this, but Jack isn’t the father of Gemma’s twins.”

  Scott and Paul gasped in unison. “Oh my god!”

  “His first wife cheated on him, too, didn’t she?” Paul said. “Poor Jack.”

  Verlaine nodded. “Yeah, but he wants to work through this with Gemma. His love for her is much bigger than this stupid mistake.”

  “Bless him,” Scott said.

  Sam glanced at her nails. “Please make sure you act as if you don’t know when you see her at the ball tomorrow. I don’t wanna get on the wrong side of my sister.”

  Scott fastened the cap of his nail varnish. “She’ll be so blown away by how stunning you look tomorrow night, Sam. She won’t even think about doing you any wrong.”

  “Are you talking about my sister or Rebecca?”

  “Your sister. If Rebecca comes anywhere near you… In fact, I’ll do all I can to keep her away from you.”

  Sam smiled gratefully at Scott. Verlaine decided he’d better not comment on anything to do with Rebecca, just in case he said the wrong thing. Instead he gestured to Sam’s hands. She always kept her fingernails short, because she played guitar. And also she had a nasty habit of picking the skin around her nails, so keeping them trim stopped her from doing that.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear nail varnish, baby,” Verlaine said.

  “I thought she should have pretty hands for tomorrow night,” Scott said. “She might be showing them off to people for no reason whatsoever; or her left hand at least!”

  Sam smiled shyly at Verlaine, then chuckled.

  “Let’s hope so,” Verlaine said. “If she’ll still have me.”

  She smirked. “Well, if I’d got to the car a few minutes before Rebecca, I could be having you right now!”

  Verlaine chuckled. He didn’t want to sound like a pervert after that comment, but he needed to talk to Sam alone. “You wanna get going? We’ve got things to discuss, huh?”

  “Yeah, okay. And I would like to speak to Rebecca.” Sam stood up. She took Scott’s hands in her own. “Thank you for looking after me and for making my nails look pretty. And you too, Paul.”

  “You’re welcome here any time, Sam,” Paul said. “I hope you both have a better evening from now on.”

  Scott draped his arm around Sam’s shoulders. “Hey, you two could always stay and recreate last night!”

  The others laughed. Verlaine felt arousal whoosh over him, but he definitely didn’t want to involve anyone else in their relationship after what had happened with Rebecca. He held up his hands. “Why don’t we save the group sex for special occasions and holidays!”

  “Good idea, Verlaine,” Scott said. “I can’t wait to see you on Christmas Day!”

  Scott winked. Verlaine laughed, then quickly turned towards the living room door – just in case he was serious. He gestured for Sam to go first, and they all piled into the hallway.

  “We’ll see you at the house tomorrow, then,” Sam said, hugging Paul and Scott. “Are we all travelling to the ball together?”

  Verlaine folded his fingers around her hand – relieved to be physically connected with his girl again. “I can drive us four and Gemma in the T-bird.”

  “Any excuse to drive that car!” Paul said.

  “Absolutely.”

  “What about your parents and the other two?” Sam asked.

  “Oh. I’m sure they can arrange their own transport. As Scott said, it might be better if we distance ourselves from Rebecca a bit. After tonight’s drama, who knows what might happen tomorrow!”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Verlaine was reluctant to see Rebecca again this evening. He was beginning to realise what a manipulative bitch she was. Why hadn’t he seen this side of her when they’d been together? Maybe life had made her jaded, or maybe love had blinded him. But he did recall now a few times when she’d used emotional blackmail to get what she wanted – and not just with him. She had a huge ego, which needed to be appeased. And apparently age had made her even more demanding and ruthless. In short, she was turning into her mother.

  But it was obvious Sam wouldn’t rest tonight until she spoke with Rebecca, so Verlaine drove them back to the house. Verlaine let them in with the front door key that they kept under the mat. It was bad security, but it was unlikely anyone would just happen to be walking by up the cliff, and they’d never had any problems. As Sam and Verlaine stepped into the hallway, they heard jovial noises coming from the living room – the voices of his parents and Ellie. He and Sam halted quietly and listened for a moment. Rebecca’s voice wasn’t among them, so they guessed she was probably upstairs in her room.

  He held Sam’s hand as they crept up the stairs like a couple of teenagers getting home late from an illicit party. Verlaine led her towards Rebecca’s room and knocked on the door. There was a rustling from within, then she craned her head around the door, peering at them through bleary eyes.

  “Yes?”

  “Rebecca,” Verlaine said. “Sorry, were you sleeping?”

  “No. I’m surprised to see you two here. I thought you’d gone back to London.”

  Sam smiled kindly. “We’d like to speak to you, Rebecca. About what happened tonight.”

  She leaned on the doorframe. “I told you what happened. Verlaine led me on with his flirty texts. If you wanna be mad at someone, be mad at him.”

  “I’m not angry with either of you,” Sam said. “I’d just like to come in and talk. Is that okay?”

  Rebecca walked away from the door, leaving it open. Verlaine gestured for Sam to go first, then he followed her inside.

  Rebecca’s room was pretty much the same as he remembered it. She’d always liked this place as a child – it was secluded and overlooked the gardens. The furnishings hadn’t changed at all – the wardrobe and drawers were made of dark mahogany, and the low oak beams gave the space a haunted feel.

  Sam wandered over to Rebecca’s double bed and sat down on the maroon bedspread. An ancient spring twanged below her. Rebecca sat on the velvet-covered stool by the hefty dressing table. Verlaine opted to stand, not wishing to hang around too long.

  Sam picked up a pair of Converse All Stars that had been abandoned on Rebecca’s bed. She held them up like a poisonous spider. Verlaine suddenly realised they were almost identical to Sam’s. Rebecca must’ve bought them in London today, because the labels were still on. The shoes were bright red and funky, which suited Sam’s quirky style, but Verlaine was sure Rebecca would never wear anything like this. A creepy feeling slithered up his legs – what the hell was Rebecca up to?

  “I see we have similar taste in shoes as well as men,” Sam said jovially.

  Rebecca frowned. “Don’t tell me you’ve got those sneakers, too.”

  Sam placed them back down and shot Verlaine a suspicious glance. He wanted them to leave now. It was too weird.

  But Sam seemed to want to chat. “Um, I just wanted to check you were okay after everything that happened, Rebecca. Apparently you were under the impression that Verlaine was open to seduction?”

  Verlaine intervened. “Surely you must know I’d never cheat on Sam. Let’s just be clea
r, okay, so nothing like this happens again.”

  Rebecca sighed and rubbed her eyes. She seemed to slump physically, then she sat up straight and threw her attention over Sam. “I’m glad you came all the way from London to see me actually, Sam, because there’s something I wanted to say to you.”

  “Er, really?”

  “Yeah. I’m very unhappy with you. From the moment you arrived here you’ve been giving me the silent treatment. You seem eager to lap up the attention from Patty and Jim, but you’ve hardly said a word to me or my mom since we met. You snubbed me almost completely when we first met, when all I wanted was for us to be friends.”

  Sam opened her mouth to defend herself, but Rebecca didn’t give her the chance.

  “And the way you flounced into the living room last night, flaunting the fact that you were going to an orgy was just pathetic. You clearly wanted to steal my crown of ‘favourite daughter’ by getting dressed up and acting all innocent.”

  Verlaine couldn’t listen to this nonsense any longer. “Rebecca, what the hell are you talking about? Sam hasn’t done anything wrong.”

  “That’s not what everyone else thinks, Verlaine. We were all just trying to enjoy our family tradition of putting up the Christmas decorations, hoping to brush over Sam’s gaffe of lying to Patty and Jim about her headache, but you had to come in and ruin, didn’t you?”

  Verlaine glanced at Sam. She looked like Rebecca had punched her. The atmosphere in the room was stifling now and he wanted to leave. He opened his mouth to suggest this to Sam, but she’d allowed herself to be drawn into Rebecca’s craziness.

  She spoke in a meek voice. “I honestly never meant to offend anyone.”

  “Well, I can assure you, my mother and I have been deeply offended and devastated by your behaviour. It feels like this Christmas is starting to turn into the Sam Jenkins Show, and I think that’s incredibly sad. You’re very unpopular around here, which I realise makes you feel insecure. But it’s unfair to take it out on me.”

  Verlaine dragged his eyes away from Rebecca and saw that Sam’s eyes were welling with tears. He couldn’t take this any longer. “Rebecca, this is totally nuts! Why are you trying to make Sam feel bad after what you did to her? And to me.”