Family Portrait (Kingsley Family Trilogy Book 1)
Page 24
“Zachary…” Evangeline pleaded.
“You’re welcome to stay here; the spare bedroom’s made up,” Ella said. He jumped on the offer; he was not going back to his parents tonight, and he would feel much better staying here, keeping an eye on Imogen and looking out for Jack, than he would staying at Danny’s, Daryl’s or James’s.
“Thank-you. That would be great. Evie, can you please let mother and father know I’ll be home tomorrow?” It was her cue to leave, and she took it: with a mumbled goodbye, and a quick hug for Imogen, she left.
Braden busied himself in the kitchen – at the back of her mind, Imogen wondered how he knew the house so well. It seemed as though he’d been here before. Perhaps his and Ella’s relationship was more serious than she’d previously thought? – leaving Zach, Imogen and Ella alone.
“I understand that there are things you’ve not told me, and I’m not going to press you for them tonight. But I would like to know the whole story soon, okay Imogen?” She was not angry, nor loud, nor demanding; she sounded concerned. Imogen nodded, grateful for the reprieve she had received for the evening: she couldn’t face it tonight.
Ella left; Imogen glanced down at Zach’s hand, which was resting upon her knee.
“How’s your finger?” she asked hoarsely, gently stroking his slightly misshapen finger.
“It’ll be all right,” Zach said. “Are you all right?”
Imogen nodded again, burying her face into his chest and taking a deep breath. She would not get all het up again. He wrapped his arm tighter around her and they sat in silence. It was a silence that would have seemed uncomfortable for any onlookers, but it illustrated how deeply their bond ran; there was nothing wrong in silence.
It had been a whirlwind romance, fuelled by lust, which had transformed into something so much more. From being a boy she admired across a classroom, Zach had turned into her confidante, her protector and her love. Life without him – she couldn’t imagine it now. Her new life centred around him, and he supported her more than she’d known she needed supporting.
“Thank-you,” she murmured into his blood-stained shirt. “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been here.” Despite her insistence that she wanted him to leave, she was exceedingly happy that he’d stayed. She needed him so much.
“I’ll always be here.” The promise silenced Imogen for a moment; it was Braden who broke the silence this time.
“That finger looks like it needs strapping up,” Braden entered the room and glanced down at the couple he met only once, at the wedding.
“Braden’s a doctor, he knows what he’s talking about,” Ella said, also slipping into the room. The two carried four steaming mugs of coffee, which they placed on the table.
“The kids are all asleep.”
Imogen lifted her head, and glanced at the three in the room. They were all on her side, even though they didn’t all know what they were fighting for, what she’d done. If she hadn’t been so fed up of emotion, she might’ve cried; instead, she reached for the coffee.
“It’s a baptism of fire into the Kingsley family,” Imogen tried to joke, and Braden smiled, as he pulled a bandage from a first aid kit Ella must have found.
“I noticed!” And, with that, the atmosphere returned to – if not quite normal – a comfortable one. It wasn’t as though the fight had never happened: there was some sort of truce between Imogen and her family because of it; some sort of understanding. But they could move on from it: move on, and be a normal – if there was such a thing – family.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
That was the first night that Braden stayed over, but it wasn’t the last. Braden and Ella definitely seemed to be more serious than Imogen had originally thought, and she wondered whether she might, at some time in the near future, be having a new ‘dad’ to add to her strange little family.
Jack, it seemed, had been sufficiently scared (or humiliated) by his fight with Zach, and so all was quiet on that front for a while. In fact, the family settled back down into their usual, quiet routine, where any excitement was of the good kind: just two weeks later it was Sara’s sixteenth birthday, and Ella was glad. She felt as though the family needed something to celebrate, and so put a lot of effort into throwing a party, with plenty of Sara’s friends from school (not people Imogen particularly enjoyed spending time with, but she attempted to be civil – she felt she owed Ella) as well as all the family.
The next event on the horizon for Imogen was the concert she had been so looking forward to, and by the time it rolled around, events with Jack had almost been forgotten. Almost a month had passed, and whilst it stayed in Imogen’s thoughts, it did not feature too prominently. For everyone else it was merely a distant bad memory – something that had been overcome.
Eve and Daryl had also managed to secure tickets to the gig – although on the pretence of accompanying their friends, rather than going as a couple – and so Zach drove the four of them to the concert.
“We’re going to see The Killers!” Eve said, the excitement clear in her voice as she shouted over the loud music blaring from the car’s speakers. Unsurprisingly, the music was by The Killers too; Daryl and Imogen were singing along, as Eve enthused about the band and Zach grinned.
“Really, Eve? I just thought you’d been going on about them for the last month for the fun of it,” he said. Daryl seemed to know all the words, and Zach was under the impression that he was a fan of the band; unbeknownst to him, both he and Daryl were playing very similar roles – getting into the music their girlfriends liked.
“What are we going to do for your birthday then, Imogen?” Daryl changed the subject as Eve stuck her tongue out at her sarcastic brother. The question took Imogen by surprise a little: she had told Zach when her birthday was, but didn’t know the rest of her friends knew. Also, although Ella had been asking her what she wanted, she was unused to making a big deal about her birthday. What did she want to do to mark it? It seemed as though she should do something: sixteen was quite a significant birthday, and she actually had friends she wanted to celebrate it with this year.
A party like Sara’s, whilst it had suited her, was not for Imogen: she thought she’d quite like to do something just with her friends, rather than spending more time with her family. Whilst there was some sort of understanding between herself and the Kingsleys, she still didn’t relish spending prolonged amounts of time in their company; there was still something unbearably ‘good’ about the lot of them.
“Haven’t a clue. Maybe we could all just go out in town?” she asked, glancing up ahead as the car slowed to a halt.
“Sounds good – dinner, a few drinks-” Daryl was interrupted by Evangeline.
“Maybe more than a few!” she chimed in, and Zach gave her a slightly disapproving look. He didn’t like his little sister getting drunk. The protective streak in him made Imogen smile just a little bit.
“Okay, okay, we’re here. We can sort this out another time – let’s get in there and get to the front!” The four piled out of the car, to the concert they’d all been looking forward to for months.
***
Hyped up and happy, they exited amongst a throng of people, all pushing to escape. They spilled out onto the lamp-lit street outside, chattering away about the concert. Even Zach seemed converted into a fan!
“Can Immy sit in the back with me on the way home?” Eve asked, wanting to continue discussing the concert without the boys rolling their eyes.
“Hmmm….I suppose,” Zach replied, with a little smile. He opened the back door for Imogen, kissing her for a brief moment before closing the door behind her.
“You’re just sitting in a different section of the car to her! No need to start kissing her, Zachary,” Eve joked. “Me and Daryl will have to start snogging just to make it even!” Zach, who was in a good mood, laughed the ‘joke’ off, but Daryl threw a worried glance at Eve. He often wondered why she liked to risk everything so much.
Daryl knew that if they
were found out, Zach would be angry with both of them. Eve would lose her ability to wrap Zach around her little finger, and he’d tighten up her curfew. Daryl understood that he wasn’t trying to be overbearing, just protective – but it was annoying all the same. Daryl – well, he reckoned he’d be in for more than a couple of punches if Zach got wind of the relationship…something he didn’t relish the idea of.
But Evangeline was worth it.
People didn’t understand her, thought she was shallow, but Daryl had realised just how deeply in love with her he was – and so he was risking it. They both were.
“You all right?” Evangeline asked, noticing a silence had fallen over her friend: Imogen was sat, ignoring the music blaring, not answering Eve’s questions.
“Mmhmm.” Imogen’s answer didn’t really satisfy Evangeline’s curiosity, but she got dragged into a debate with the boys in the front about which song had been played best that night, and so left Imogen to her thoughts. Thoughts Imogen didn’t want to be having…but that were increasingly panicking her.
It had all started in the toilets, outside the concert arena.
“Crap, stomach cramps,” Eve had complained. “Men don’t know how lucky they are, not having to deal with all this period crap.” Imogen had laughed, but only for a moment: Imogen Kingsley was trying to work out when she’d last had to deal with stomach cramps.
Now, she was doing the maths: over and over again. Only every single time, it came back with one answer – an answer she really didn’t want to think about.
What the hell was wrong with her life? After one bad thing got fixed, did another just have to appear? Was she cursed, destined to be miserable for eternity? Or was it just that she’d had her allotted amount of happiness for the year when she’d spent those blissful moments with Zach – so now it had to be negated with unhappiness?
***
Imogen and Zach had planned to spend the night together at Monroe Manor, now that his parents had disappeared once more (off to Egypt for two months, they’d told Zach) and Evangeline knew that she’d stayed over in the past. Ella had already been fed the ‘I’m staying at Eve’s line’, and so Zach was surprised when Imogen asked to be dropped off at Kingsley Mansion.
“Thought you were staying at ours?” Eve said, but Imogen knew she couldn’t, not until she’d sorted her head out. Why the hell had she had to work that out that night? A couple more days of ignorance would have been so much better.
“I’m not feeling too great, do you mind if I don’t?” She directed her mumbled question to window, as she tried to avoid Zach’s gaze; she knew if they’d been alone, he would not have let her go without an explanation. She was thankful for the presence of Daryl and Eve; hopefully they could stop him questioning her until she had things figured out.
“Imogen, is everything alri-”
Imogen silenced him with a brief, detached kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she told him, longing to answer with ‘everything’s fine’, but not knowing if she could truthfully do so. She slid out of the car, feeling their eyes on her as she made her way up the dark path.
Thankfully, there were no lights on; nobody home to ask why her sleepover was cancelled. One word whirled inside her head, the same word that went through any girl’s when she realised she’d missed a period.
Pregnant.
Ella had told her where they were going, in case she needed to know, but Imogen couldn’t remember for the life of her. After a few moments, she glanced at the clock: it was only a little past ten.
Hopefully the Kingsleys wouldn’t be back for a little while; even if they were, she knew that they didn’t expect her to be in. Although they rarely returned later than half past ten if they all went out together – the younger kids would probably be asleep and being carried by about nine anyway – she thought that if she ran, she would have time. Time to run to the twenty-four-hour chemist.
She had to know.
***
“Shit.”
It was the only word that could conceivably leave her mouth at that moment, and it wasn’t the last time it would, either.
“Shit, shit, shit!” Imogen Kingsley was perched on the top of the large cabinet located in the corner of the bathroom, her legs crossed with one foot teetering on the edge of the sink. The door was locked – an unnecessary measure, as the house was empty apart from herself, but one she felt she needed to take – and her swearing was directed at the white stick she held in her hand.
Now, however, her words were silenced, as her brain went into overdrive, trying to make sense of the simple sign on the window of the stick.
Who knew a little plus sign could cause so much anguish.
She knew she’d messed up – the plus sign told her that – but how badly? Was this bad enough that she’d lose Zach? Would Ella kick her out? Who knew.
These were the questions screwing with her brain before the obvious questions regarding what she was going to do about the situation even started.
They were even more painful to think about.
***
Whether it was hours, minutes, days or merely seconds later, Imogen could not have said, but sometime later the door downstairs slammed, reverberating through the walls and bringing Imogen’s head back into the room sharply. She had to talk to Ella, she knew it, and tell her what was going on. The problem was, she wasn’t quite sure what was going on – what she was going to do.
“Shit,” she muttered once more, as footsteps sounded on the stairs, and someone tried the door.
“Imogen?” Millie’s cold voice rang out through the bathroom, and Imogen shoved the stick out of the way – trying not to think how this was a used pregnancy test she was stuffing into her jeans pocket – and cleared her throat. “Yeah. Two seconds,” she said in answer to the impatient woman outside the door. Checking her appearance, she noticed a redness and wetness to her eyes that had previously gone unnoticed. Rubbing them quickly – which only worsened the problem – she opened the door, to find Millie stood, waiting. Millie’s glance went to eyes; Imogen muttered something about hay-fever and pushed passed, getting to her room as quickly as possible.
The late hour meant that Abby had clearly been asleep on the way home, as when she entered their bedroom, Ella was laying the half-asleep girl into her bed, fully clothed but shoe-less.
“I didn’t think you were going to be back,” she whispered, glancing up at the teenager in the doorway. Her glance was also drawn to Imogen’s eyes.
“I didn’t feel very well, decided not to stay. Hay fever,” she said, kicking off her own shoes. Ella looked a little suspicious, but also like she was desperate to get into bed, and so the topic passed without further comment.
“Okay then, night Imogen. Night Abigail.” She softly exited the room, leaving Imogen to wait until she was sure her sister was sound asleep.
She let the tears she had been battling with fall, hoping they could ease her despair.
She was left disappointed.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
When Imogen awoke the next morning, after a restless night, her eyes were puffy and red, but she was all cried out. The panic and despair were still there, but she had control of them now: the attitude she needed at the forefront was practicality. She had to figure out what to do, and crying was not going to help her figure it out; she needed a clear head to do that.
She wished she had someone neutral she could talk to, but she couldn’t figure out who there was: Eve had split loyalties, so she needed someone not involved with Zach. She didn’t feel as close to the other girls, but she might have told them, had she not been worried that they would tell Eve, who in turn would tell Zach. No, her friends were out of the question. Who else was there?
Her family would all tell Ella, and what she wanted was someone she could speak to before she had to consider telling Zach or Ella.
Loneliness engulfed her for a moment, as she realised she had no-one to turn to before she broke the news to those who would really jud
ge her; those whose opinions would really affect her.
If only Abby was older. Or she had an older sister to turn to. Jack had ruined that – she hadn’t a clue where her older sister was.
She realised, as she glanced at the clock and saw it was past eleven, that she was going to have to get up before they came looking for her, to see why she was sleeping so late. She was going to have to get up, and bite the bullet. Ella…Ella needed to know. For once, Imogen felt dependant on Ella; she needed an adult, someone who could tell her what to do. Facing this most adult of problems, she felt like a bewildered child – terrified, clueless, and alone.
***
Wearing the t-shirt she had worn to bed over a pair of jeans and her hair pinned off her face, a mess of curls, Imogen entered the empty kitchen and took a deep breath.
“Ella?” she said, in the direction of the open door which connected the living room and kitchen. “Could you come here for a minute? Please?” Ella left the kids playing, a little worried by the tone in her daughter’s voice. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was, but something in it worried her a little.