‘Well, it’d be different because you’d be here. I still come home every night. Usually.’
‘And just say it didn’t work out for… I dunno, reasons. And I had everything here. Would I get to stay or would I have to go back to England, and start over, tail between my legs. I wouldn’t have anything to fall back on.’
‘I don’t know, Cassie. No one can possibly know all that.’
‘My life is in London. Everything I know and everyone I love is in London. Can you not see how this is a huge ask of me? And something you just said you weren’t sure you’d have been able to do for Nicole.’
‘Okay, can you not bring her into this? Like I said, nothing about us is the same.’
She bristles and stands up.
‘Okay, you know, I think I need to go for a walk for a bit.’ She pushes the back door open and slips on her sandals. ‘I’ll be back later.’
What the fuck? This is nuts.
‘Is that a no?’ I call after her as she walks up the beach. And now I don’t know if she’s so into this after all. That the crush she mentioned earlier is just that, and nothing more than an extension of fifteen-year-old her. She turns around and shakes her head.
‘No.’
‘So is that a yes then?’
‘No! It’s a give me some time to think about uprooting my entire life for you.’
I don’t follow her. Why should I? Instead I try to behave normally, despite being entirely knocked for six, and destabilized, and sort of mad at Travis.
And I think about it whilst I stack crockery in the kitchen, and it plays on my mind whilst I throw on some laundry, and I don’t know why she’s comparing us to a previous relationship when the two are entirely different, or why she’s picking at something she only has second hand, inaccurate information about. I get lost in some work for a bit; listen to a demo track I’ve been sent, synthy and incomplete, and start to figure out a bassline for it. But it’s not at all challenging and it doesn’t take long. Common time, key of C major. I invert some chords. I throw in a few passing notes and a bit of slap, and by the time I’m finished, it’s late afternoon and she’s still not back, and neither has she answered the text I sent her. Part of me wants to leave it, but she’s a long way from home and I don’t want things to be difficult between us, and anyway, perhaps her phone is off, or upstairs, and before I’ve talked myself out of it, I’ve locked up the house and I’m heading up the beach.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Cassie
Fuck! How did that go so badly wrong? He was offering up everything I’ve been dreaming of on a plate and I… acted like a crazy bitch. The air is warm and heavy and still, and a haze coats the sky. The beach is calmer than I’ve seen it recently and sand collects in the seams of my shoes as I walk down to the shore. I head up towards the pier along the peak of the dune. People are milling around, looking out to sea, strolling along, talking. They’re all just getting on with life. Could that be me? Could I fit in? Would it matter if I didn’t? I’d only really have to fit in for him and we seem to do that just fine. I continue up the beach, past the playground, on to the pier, idly wondering what my life would be like out here, and I get almost to the very end and back again before I find an empty bench. It’s definitely pleasant here, I could be happy, I think. Of course I’d be happy; I’d be here with Jesse, and there are bound to be jobs like mine.
But am I really ready to give up everything I know for him? Because really, there’s a lot riding on this and my gut reaction back at the house was not that of someone who’s about to throw caution to the wind and move across the world.
And that’s surprised me. I always thought I would.
I cross and uncross my legs. Lean forwards and rest my elbows on my knees as I stare out at the horizon, the faint outline of Catalina, and the offshore oil rig, but my eyes always want to drift back across the sand to the row of houses. I’ve left him in one of them and I don’t know what he’s doing.
My parents could come and visit. Dad would love it, but Mum might be a little nervous. She likes her home comforts. She’d worry about driving on the right, and me driving on the right, but I think she’d love going to see the tourist attractions. Dad would be a big fan of this beach. I can imagine him walking along it in khaki shorts, wearing his sandals with socks, talking about the tides and befriending the locals. He’d buy a slice of pizza from the takeaway on the seafront when Mum wasn’t looking. Rachel and George could come, too. We could drive north, drink a lot of wine in Napa Valley. We’re good at that, Rachel and I. That’s how all this started. I pull my phone out of my pocket.
If I moved here, would you visit? Xx
I stare at it for a few minutes but she doesn’t reply. It’s late at night in London, so I can’t blame her, really. I slide the phone back into my pocket.
There’s not much point in dwelling on when things began to get a little snarky earlier, and anyway, it was sort of my fault. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought up Nicole, but surely he can see the parallels.
The light changes as the sun moves across the sky, but I don’t move. The beach is getting busier again, people are out for evening walks. I’ve lost track of time, and it’s gone seven when I check the time again. Just a few more minutes and then I’ll think about heading back. I’m getting hungry anyway, and I reckon Jesse probably is, too. I’ll go back and we’ll make dinner. We’ll sit and eat it outside, and then I’ll rest my legs up on his lap and we’ll watch as the sky turns pink and purple and then fades to darkness. I don’t want to admit that I might have been a bit of a diva, flouncing off in the way I did, and I definitely don’t want to think that things between us might not be so nice.
I’m so caught up in my thoughts and my people-watching that I don’t notice immediately when he sits down next to me and holds out a plastic cup.
‘Is this the bench we sit on for chats?’ he asks. ‘You’ve been gone for ages. Here, peace offering.’
I look over and he smiles at me, but there is something nervous about it. I take the cup from him and take a sip. It’s iced tea. Of course it’s iced tea.
‘Thank you,’ I say.
‘Are you okay? I missed you. You didn’t answer your phone.’
Oh, shit. Three missed calls and a text. It must have switched to silent when I shoved it back in my pocket.
‘I am. I’m also sorry. I shouldn’t have brought up your ex. That was rude and I panicked.’
‘It’s fine,’ he says, stretching out. ‘And anyway, it’s not like you were completely wrong. But here’s the thing, Cassie.’ He pauses. ‘I want to be with you all the time. Not just little chunks here and there when it’s convenient. But always. Every day.’
Awww. He’s looking at me very earnestly. He really means it.
‘I want that, too,’ I say. And I put my drink down next to me and kiss his cheek and curl myself against him, clinging on tight and thinking how perfectly we fit next to each other. And I flash back to the conversation we had in Philippe’s and what I said whilst my mouth was crammed full of food. It stopped us short then but it’s never been truer than right now. I said I didn’t want to go home. Made out that it was because of the sandwich, but we both knew it wasn’t. There was no need to talk up the coleslaw in the nervous way I had. No need at all. But if I’d had the guts to tell him what he means to me then, maybe I’d have felt more able to voice all the other meaningful shit I’ve wanted to since I’ve been here. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to coax out the things he wants to hear from me, because they’d be out there in the world. Fledgling declarations of love. Scattered into the air, carried on the wind, settled and present everywhere they were said. Laced into memories, the way his words are in mine.
‘And I was wrong,’ I say, steeling myself. If ever there was a time to tell him how I feel about him it’s now, with the pretty, colourful sky and the situation we’ve made here. ‘Not everyone I love is in London. You’re here. And I’m hopelessly in love with you. Have been for ages, actual
ly. I’m just shit at showing my feelings.’
He takes my hand and brushes hair out of my face.
‘Aww Cass,’ he says. ‘I’m hopelessly in love with you, too,’ and we kiss, and then he leans his forehead against mine.
‘Take me home,’ I say, nodding back towards the row of houses on the beach front.
‘What do you want to do about food?’
I laugh. What a boy thing to say.
‘Erm. Chinese? Pizza? I don’t mind. Something we can order in that requires zero effort. Also,’ I say, batting his arm, ‘don’t kill the moment, you absolute melon.’
* * *
Later, there’s a pizza box between us and a movie on the laptop. Thor, because of course it is. But for once I’ve barely even noticed Chris Hemsworth.
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘Alright then.’
Jesse hits the space bar and the movie pauses.
‘Huh? What do you mean, yeah, alright then?’
‘Yeah, I’ll come here. Alright then, I’ll get a visa. One day, when it’s right.’
‘Really?’ he asks, sitting up quickly. The computer falls off the side of the bed. ‘Shit,’ he mutters, reaching down for it.
‘Really.’
‘But I thought you said –’
‘Ignore that. I was talking bollocks. But I need to know you won’t get bored and finish with me. Meet someone closer, more convenient. Not five thousand miles away.’
‘That would never happen.’
‘And if they won’t let me come here, because I feel like that’s a possibility, I’ll need to know you’ll come to England.’
He opens his mouth to say something.
‘Only as a secondary option,’ I add, quickly, ‘but I can’t get invested in this, with you, if you won’t budge for me. I wouldn’t get over it. I meant what I said before, you know? About how much I liked you when I was younger.’
‘Okay,’ he says, and squeezes me tight. ‘I guess it doesn’t really matter where we are in the long run.’
‘Fucking hell,’ I squeak. ‘Where’s my phone? I have to tell Rachel.’
Chapter Thirty-Three
Cassie
All Saturday morning I can’t sit still. I drink a lot of coffee. I change my clothes a lot. Jesse’s family come today and I am nervous. I do and redo my hair. He says it doesn’t matter what I wear, but to me it does. He says I’ll be fine, and that they’ll love me, but what if he’s wrong? What if they hate me? I have, after all, swooped in and made life-changing plans with him, and as far as they’re concerned, we only met in July.
In the end I settle for skinny jeans and a v-neck grey marl t-shirt. I’m casual. I’m cool. I can do this. At least, I think I can. I sweep my hair to the side and hold it in place with my sunglasses.
The house is tidy apart from the pile of mail stacked up on the kitchen side by the front door. It’s been there since I arrived. Jesse hands me a bottle of Coke and I drink it even though I am shaking slightly from too much caffeine. What’s a little more?
Just before midday, the doorbell rings and I jump out of my skin.
‘Jesus, relax, Cassie,’ Jesse says, nodding towards the front door and patting my thigh. ‘It’s only Travis.’
He doesn’t wait for Jesse to open the door, instead he lets himself in the same way he had the last time he’d come round. But this time he’s followed by a tall, slender woman, muttering something about waiting until people answer. She has that kind of pale, porcelain-like skin you have to really take care of, and doll-like features; big green eyes under flawless brows, and rosy pink lips. Her hair is black and shiny, and cut in a long blunt bob with a heavy fringe. She’s wearing a maroon skater dress, a short denim jacket and black lace-up ankle boots with a chunky high heel. So this is Holly. Travis claps Jesse on the back and kisses my cheek. Holly hangs back and looks around the room until Travis retreats and guides her further in by her elbow.
‘Some introductions!’ he announces, rubbing his hands together. ‘Cassie, this is my old lady, Holly. Holly, this is British Cassie.’
‘It’s really nice to meet you,’ I say, flashing my friendliest smile. My accent sounds silly. Affected and stuffy compared to the laid back, west coast drawl I’ve been surrounded by. She flicks her eyes over me and shifts on her feet.
‘You too,’ she says.
I don’t believe her, but I also don’t know why she’d be off with me. I glance over at Jesse for any kind of help, and he moves next to me.
‘Holly,’ he says, stiffly, giving her a nod.
‘Jesse,’ she replies with the same stiffness. The atmosphere is suddenly a little tense. It’s a vibe I never felt when Travis was here on his own the other night. All four of us flounder for a few seconds, then Holly grabs hold of Travis’ arm, and her face softens.
‘Baby,’ she says. There’s a childish tone to her voice. ‘I’m super thirsty, can you go get me a drink?’ She’s batting her lashes at him and he instantly complies. Jesse and I step back simultaneously to let him through into the kitchen.
‘What do you want?’ he calls, over his shoulder, his head inside the fridge.
‘Anything. I don’t care,’ she says, flippantly. She’s looking at her nails and picking at a cuticle. I drop my hand and link my little finger with Jesse’s. Travis returns with a bottle of mandarin soda, Jarritos, the same brand as the tamarind one he drank the other day, and Jesse lets go of my finger and moves his hand up to the small of my back, clutching at a handful of my t-shirt, stretching it slightly over my stomach.
‘Does this mean I’m driving?’ Holly asks petulantly, looking at the drink, her bottom lip pouty, her green eyes wide.
‘Uh, no?’ Travis says. ‘You said you didn’t care… it’s only just midday.’ Holly sighs dramatically.
‘Shall we sit outside?’ I say, overly brightly. I’m trying to diffuse the situation.
‘Sure,’ Holly says. Travis exhales, Jesse lets go of my top and leads the way. Mission accomplished, I think.
Except it’s not really. Unless the mission was just to move the awkwardness outside. I can’t put my finger on it exactly, but every time Holly says something, Jesse stiffens, so when he goes inside to get more drinks, I follow.
‘What’s up with that, then?’ I ask, whilst he pokes around in the fridge.
‘What’s up with what?’
‘As if you don’t know. Holly. Why is there weirdness?’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ he says, shortly, grabbing the bottle opener from a drawer. And then he pushes me against the cupboards and kisses me. Slides his hand down over my bum. ‘Those jeans, though,’ he murmurs against my cheek.
‘Yeah? What of them?’ I giggle.
‘They make me want to do bad things to you.’
‘Best wait ’til everyone’s gone home for those kinds of shenanigans.’
Outside there are footsteps, and the tinkly babble of a toddler talking. We both look out of the kitchen window. The red-haired woman I’ve seen on Jesse’s Facebook is standing outside, holding a big dish of something covered in foil. She’s wearing a bright maxi dress which skims over a very definite pregnancy. Brandon is behind her, and he’s carrying the toddler on his shoulders.
‘That’s Lainey,’ Jesse tells me, nodding towards the window. ‘And Brandon is carrying Nancy.’ Lainey rings the doorbell and the welcome is remarkably different.
‘I’ve brought lasagna,’ she announces. She plonks the dish down heavily on the side and throws her arms around Jesse, squeezing him tightly and kissing both his cheeks. It’s so warm and familial that I can’t help but smile. She holds him at arm’s length and says, ‘Now, where’s this English rose of yours? I’m just dying to meet her.’
I don’t think I’ve ever been called an English rose before. I like Lainey already. Jesse gestures to where I’m still loitering by the fridge and I hold my hand up in a little wave and she embraces me in the same tight hug as she gave Jesse just moments earlier.
‘Are you having a
lovely time?’ she asks, and I nod. ‘Is he being good to you?’ she looks back at Jesse slyly. I nod again.
‘When he wants to be.’
‘Oh my goodness,’ she gushes. ‘You sound just like you could be on Downton Abbey.’ I laugh. I can’t help it. I couldn’t sound less like I could be on Downton Abbey if I tried.
‘Lainey is a huge fan,’ Brandon explains.
‘Huge,’ she repeats, ‘I’ve seen them all. Have you seen them all?’
‘I’ve caught a couple,’ I say. Brandon releases Nancy who runs to her mother and eyes me suspiciously. I crouch down to her level.
‘And you must be Nancy,’ I say. She nods, slightly nervously. ‘I’ve heard lots of lovely things about you. I’ve been told you’re a little princess.’
‘And she knows it,’ Brandon says. I stand back up and he extends his hand for me to shake. ‘It’s good to meet you.’ He’s the youngest of all the Franklin brothers, and yet somehow, he seems like the eldest. I suppose that’s what happens when you have a blossoming family, and by the looks of Lainey, that family is definitely blossoming.
‘Did you invite Mom and Dad?’ he asks. Jesse shakes his head.
‘I didn’t invite anyone. This was all Trav’s doing, no?’
‘Trav and perhaps Lainey,’ Brandon smirks. Lainey elbows him in the ribs.
‘Never mind,’ she says. ‘We’ll see your folks before we head back.’
‘Uncle Jesse?’ Nancy asks, but the J sounds like a D. ‘Can I have some different songs on?’ He picks her up and hugs her, and the affection between them is obvious. She grabs his hair and pulls it over his face. He doesn’t stop her. It’s adorable.
Call Me, Maybe Page 21
