Before

by KE Payne

  “Was that…?” Her father intervened. “What was her name again?”

  “Laurel.” Alex’s voice sounded different.

  “Laurel. That’s right.” Her father linked his arm in hers. “I haven’t seen her around here for ages.”

  “No.”

  “She okay?” he asked.

  “Seemed to be.” Alex’s answer was clipped.

  As I fell into step beside Alex and her father, I wanted to ask her who Laurel was, and I suppose a part of me thought I shouldn’t have to wait to ask because Alex might tell me herself without being prompted. But she didn’t say any more about who Laurel is, was, or could be. Instead, she said something to her father about how warm she’d become whilst walking, and I definitely noted a purposeful change in subject from her. Then we resumed our pace, leaving me with a headful of questions and absolutely no answers at all.

  *

  The light from the barbecue fire cloaked everything in a warm glow, the occasional spark from the wood sending shards of orange sparks into the night sky, where they danced and twirled for a second before finally disappearing.

  I’d eaten far too much, but that still didn’t stop me from joining Joshua and Eva toasting marshmallows over the embers. I didn’t even like marshmallows, so I had no idea why I was doing it. It just seemed…right. And nice. We stretched out on the sand, still warm from the day’s sunshine, and twisted and waved our sticks over the heat of the fire, laughing if one of our marshmallows fell off and into it.

  Alex’s family were the best, I’d decided. I looked around me, to her mum, dad, brother. To Sebastian trying to encourage a reluctant Jasper into the sea with him. This was Alex’s life outside of London and I really liked it. There was an ordinariness about it which was reassuring and a far cry from my life, messy as it could sometimes be. Certainly as it had been with Nicole in it. Having Alex as a friend felt calming, quite unlike the roller coaster of emotions that had accompanied my friendship with Nicole. I missed Nicole, but that evening I realized I missed what we’d had, rather than what we’d become, and I knew with a startling clarity that I could never go back.

  So I needed to look to the future. I glanced at Alex, wondering how or if she could feature in that, and my mind started wandering. I felt sleepy from food and conversation, relaxed from feeling comfortable with the company I was in. But even though I was so tired, and my eyes desperately wanted to shut, nothing in me wanted to leave the beach, or Alex. I looked over to her, the slow flickering of the embers illuminating her face, and felt ludicrously happy. She was sitting cross-legged and talking to her dad, but as she did so, she glanced over. Our eyes met across the fire, held, then parted, only to meet again a few seconds later. When it happened a third time, I watched as she said something to her dad, rubbed his arm, then scrambled to her feet and came over to me.

  “I’ve been neglecting you,” Alex said, slumping down next to me. “I’m sorry.”

  “We’ve been looking after her,” Joshua said. “Tally can sure toast marshmallows well.”

  “I’ve been busy.” I smiled. How could I tell her I wasn’t looking at her to summon her over? That I was only staring at her because I just couldn’t help myself? “Want one?” I pulled my stick from the fire and held it up.

  She pulled the marshmallow from the stick, then hopped the melting gooiness from hand to hand before blowing on it and taking a hesitant bite.

  “It’s hot.” Alex held it between her teeth, winced, then chewed it back. “Nice, though.” She laughed, then took the stick from my hand and slotted another marshmallow onto it.

  I watched her as she turned the stick against the heat, tilting her head to one side as she carefully made sure the marshmallow didn’t burn. Another wave of contentment washed over me. A sense of peace, and at that moment our life in London seemed a million miles away.

  As if sensing my thoughts, Alex pulled her stick from the fire, blew on the smoking marshmallow, and said, “Not quite Camden, is it?” before putting the stick back over the heat.

  I drew my knees to my chest and dug my bare feet into the soft sand. I rested my chin on my knees and smiled as I watched her. “Not quite Camden, no,” was all I could say.

  I lifted my head as Alex pulled the stick from the fire and unthreaded the marshmallow from it. She quickly blew on it and offered it to me, jabbing her stick into the sand and sitting back as I took the marshmallow from her and ate it.

  “Dad said he’d like to hear us play together, by the way,” Alex said. “Fancy it?”

  “A jam on the beach.” Joshua pulled his own stick from the fire. “Sounds right up your street.”

  “Fancy it?” Alex repeated, looking at me.

  I nodded. It sounded like the perfect way to round off the evening.

  She smiled broadly and got to her feet, then disappeared into the darkness. When she’d gone, Joshua scooted across the sand and sat back down next to me.

  “That’ll have made her day.” He stretched his legs out in front of him and leant back on his hands. “If there’s one thing Alex loves in this life, it’s having any opportunity to get that darned guitar out and play it to people.” He laughed. “I’m joking about the darned bit, by the way,” he said. “I love that she loves it.”

  “Oh, I enjoy any chance I get too,” I said.

  Joshua nodded then looked away. When he looked back to me, he said, “So how long have you two been dating?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “You and Alex?”

  “Oh, we’re not girlfriends.” I picked up a handful of sand and let it fall through my fingers. “Just friends.” I shot him a smile and hoped that he couldn’t see in the darkness what I knew must be my blushing cheeks.

  “My bad.” Joshua held his hands up. “It’s just…well, all I can say is you must be a pretty special friend to her.”

  “You think?” My stomach gave a small twinge.

  “Alex never brings anyone here to the house,” Joshua said.

  My mind tumbled back to the park, when Alex had first invited me over.

  My parents love meeting my friends.

  That’s what she’d said. She’d made it sound as though she invited people to stay all the time. I was on the brink of asking Joshua who Laurel was, and whether she had ever come to the house, when he added, “I’m sorry if I got the wrong idea,” then glanced over his shoulder as we both heard footsteps approaching. He glanced up as Alex arrived back with us. “Hey,” he said. “Got them?”

  *

  The music we created was sweet. There was something magical about sitting around the fire, the heat of the day finally lifting from the sand and allowing the night air to spread its cool fingers around us. The water lapping against the shore added to the relaxed atmosphere of the evening, mixing with the sound of mine and Alex’s strings as we played.

  I loved that everyone sang with us too, as Alex and I played cover versions of well-known songs, occasionally getting the words wrong and making them up as they went along. There was no self-consciousness from any of her family, each person singing as well or as badly as they could, finally falling into a laughing heap when each and every one of us forgot the words to a Beatles song that we should have all known.

  “You two should be in a band.” Joshua laughed at his own joke when we finished. “You can play, you can sing. What more do you want?”

  I caught Alex’s eye.

  “Shall we?” I asked. “Shall we just forget about Robyn and Brooke and elope somewhere together?”

  Alex smiled but didn’t answer.

  Her silence got swallowed up in the chatter around us as her parents drew the conversation away from Joshua’s joke and talked to her about a neighbour that Alex obviously knew very well. I watched her as she listened to them, her eyes occasionally returning to mine. She fiddled with her guitar while she listened, tightening strings and tuning, but I could sense her attention wasn’t fully on either her parents or her guitar.

  Finally, when oth
ers had drifted away from me and I realized I had no one to talk to, I placed the guitar that Alex had given me on the sand, stood, and wandered away from the fire. I sauntered down to the water’s edge, the babble of conversations lessening as I walked further away from everyone.

  The moon was bright in the clear night sky, casting a wobble of white across the horizon, and illuminating the few boats that were out at sea. There wasn’t a breath of wind in the air, with just the sound of the water slapping and sucking against the sand to fill my ears.

  I thought of Nicole again. I tried to picture her, wondering what counted for entertainment at Croft House at nearly eleven p.m. on a balmy Saturday night in August. I figured it wouldn’t be anything as awesome as everything I’d done that evening. That brought with it the usual claw of guilt, and the return to thinking of her rehab as being a prison, even though now I’d visited it I knew differently. My mind wouldn’t have it though, and as I stared out to the sea, I imagined bars on windows and Nicole’s face looking out at me.

  I cut my glance away, as if doing so would shake the images from my head, and stared out at a boat’s mast, gently bobbing like a metronome in the sea.

  But they refused to go, and my thoughts about Nicole’s life still hung in my mind, the threads of them pulling me back through the doors of Croft House and to her.

  Would she ever be the same again? Once she’d finally left Croft House, could she return to normal and stay clean, or would she fall back into her dark days again? Would she ever want to see me again? I just didn’t know, and while there was a part of me that couldn’t wait for Nicole to come out of rehab, there was another, bigger part of me that was dreading it.

  “There you are.”

  I heard Alex’s breathless voice before I saw her.

  “I saw you get up and go,” she said, finally appearing next to me. “I hope you weren’t feeling left out.”

  “I wanted to look at the sea, that was all.” I turned, smiled at her, then returned to looking out to sea. “There’s something very relaxing about listening to it, don’t you think?”

  “Joshua and I used to sometimes camp down here when we were little,” Alex said. “I used to love waking up early and listening to it from inside my tent.”

  “I miss it,” I said. “The sea. I ought to go home more often.”

  I meant it too. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spent more than twenty-four hours at my childhood home.

  “It’s the downside of fame,” Alex said. “No time to do anything but work.”

  “But the upside is our parents are proud of us,” I said. “Your parents in particular.”

  “You think?”

  “The way your parents have talked to me about you today,” I said, “I know.”

  “It must have been awful for them when I told them all I ever wanted to be was a musician.” Alex stared out. “I hope I’ve proved them I was right.”

  “Your parents adore you,” I said. “Anyone can see that.”

  “They think you’re fabulous too, by the way.” Alex looked at me. “Dad just said. Back up there.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder.

  “I talked to him a lot today.” My words slowed. “On the beach earlier,” I said, “when you were chatting to that girl.”

  Alex nodded.

  “What was her name again?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t being too obvious.

  “Laurel.”

  Without saying any more, she threaded her fingers through mine and rubbed her thumb against my skin. We stood in silence, hand in hand, looking out to sea. It didn’t feel weird, holding hands with her. It just felt nice and her hand felt warm in mine. Comfortable. Like it should be there. Like it was always meant to be there.

  “Shall we walk?” Finally Alex spoke.

  I nodded and allowed her to take me by the hand, following her as she walked along the shoreline. We were still barefoot, and as we walked, the cool sea washed over my feet, tickling them. We walked a couple of hundred feet or so, and then, as if by a silent, mutual agreement, we stopped again. I looked back over my shoulder, the faint glow of the fire the only thing visible to me now.

  “I’m glad you came over this weekend,” Alex said. “I’ve really liked hanging out with you.”

  “I’ve really liked it too.” I gave her hand a small squeeze.

  “Laurel’s an ex.” Alex avoided eye contact when she said it. “She still lives in the village, but that was the first time I’d seen her in ages.”

  The ex that Alex had told me she’d been on the Internet with when her mum had embarrassed her? Strangely, I didn’t want to think about that.

  “Cool.” The twinge in my chest most definitely wasn’t cool. “Did you…date long?” I knew I needed to say something.

  “Few months, that’s all.”

  “Bet it was nice to see her again, huh?” I sounded pathetic.

  “Not really.” Alex laughed. “She dumped me, not the other way around.”

  I laughed with her, because that’s what I thought I should do.

  “But it was all a very long time ago.” Alex stopped laughing. “A very long time ago. You do get that, don’t you?”

  A look passed between us, and in that one meeting of gazes I sensed a palpable hitching up of something that I knew had already been there, dancing around the edges, but which was becoming more obvious, and more visible.

  A silence lingered between us, just the sound of the waves and my own breathing, which I was sure Alex would be able to hear. I let my hand drop from hers, surprised when she took it back again. She pulled me closer to her, turning us both slightly so we were facing one another, and gazed at me for the longest time before reaching over to push a strand of my hair away from my face. She took my other hand in hers but didn’t speak, and as I looked up at her, I was unsure what—if anything—I should do or say.

  From somewhere in the distance behind me, I heard a shout. A girl’s voice. To my ears, it sounded like Nicole. It wasn’t, of course, but it was enough to drag me back to reality as I pulled my hands from hers and moved away slightly.

  “We should go back.” I stepped further away. “They’ll be wondering where we’ve got to.”

  I gave an embarrassed nod of my head and turned and walked away from her, desperate not to look back at her.

  Desperate not to return to her.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I spent Monday morning thinking about the weekend, going over and over in my head when exactly my feelings for Alex had changed. I tried to focus on the things that had been awesome: how I’d made her laugh, how intently she’d looked at me a few times, looks that had made me feel like I’d been hit by lightning. I hadn’t imagined any of it. I thought about how we’d held hands on the beach. How Alex had seemed concerned that I knew Laurel was old news. It was all scary and lovely and messed up at the same time. Alex was my bandmate. Nicole had been my bandmate and I’d sent her spiralling out of control with my selfishness. Alex was too lovely to hurt like that, and I knew I had to stop beating myself up over her like I had with Nicole and keep reassuring myself that it was up to me to make sure nothing was going to happen between us.

  We’d arrived back in London at eleven that morning, after deciding on a whim to stay an extra night in Suffolk. That had suited me just fine, because there had been nothing in me that had wanted to end the weekend early and come home, and even though I knew it would be a rush to get to the studio for one for our afternoon of recording “Perspectives,” the extra night at her parents had so been worth it.

  We’d shared a quick hug before parting at the Tube station, but it had been nothing like the intense hand-holding that we’d had the night before. Had that been deliberate on both our parts? Had Alex figured that the signals we were giving to each other could be misinterpreted? I knew I was riding a roller coaster of emotions right now: the highs of being with her, the lows because being with her inevitably brought Nicole into my head.

  All I knew, as I watched her run
down the steps of the Tube station without so much as a backward glance back up to me, still standing at street level, was that even though I’d just spent the last three days with her, I missed her the second she disappeared from my sight.

  *

  “Liverpool was just the best.” Robyn leant against me and I was sure I could smell the remnants of her weekend’s drinking still on her breath.

  I turned my head away. “Liverpool?” I asked, not understanding.

  “The festival?” Robyn made a disapproving sound. “I texted you? Man, I’m thirsty,” she said before I could answer her.

  I steered an increasingly limp Robyn to a chair in the corner of the studio and sat her down. Then, while she looked at her feet, I fetched her a tumbler of water from the cooler.

  “Drink this.” I crouched at her feet. “Somehow I reckon you’ll need rehydrating.”

  “Didn’t you get my messages?” Robyn took the water from me. “I told you I was in the middle of a field rocking out to some eighties stuff. God, you have to be pissed to listen to too much of that.”

  “Did you text me?” My brow creased as I pulled my phone from my pocket. Twelve texts, eight of which were from Robyn. I’d not looked at my phone the entire weekend, and the strangeness of it shot through me. Normally I checked it, it seemed, on the hour and every hour. But not this weekend. Not while I’d been with Alex…

  “I must have had my phone off.” I hastily bundled it back into my pocket. “So I guess you had a good time.”

  “The best.” Robyn leant her head back, then, discovering the back of the seat was lower than she realized, pulled up straight again. “Nate talked about us getting married.” She peered at me through heavy eyes. “But he was more drunk than I was, so it doesn’t count.”

  I snuffed out the overwhelming urge to roll my eyes.

  “So, Cinderella,” Robyn said, shuffling back in her chair, “how was your weekend?”

  “Ah, you know,” I said, turning my head as I heard the door open. Alex? No, Grant. “Same as ever.” I sketched a wave at him as he did the same at me.