The Partnership (Callaghan Green Series Book 10)

by Annie Dyer

  I couldn't help but smile, he'd remembered why I’d called her that, even if he had messed up the quote.

  “I don't smell. You smell!” She laughed again, this time a silly laugh, that forewarned that she was getting too giddy too quickly.

  Seph put her down, and she ran off, again at the speed of light.

  “Grab your homework!” He shouted after her.

  “Do you want to stay for dinner?” It felt awkward asking him that after months of it always being assumed that he would.

  He paused for a moment, as if it was a really difficult question. “If you're sure it's okay and it won't be too much.”

  I felt my eyes prick with tears. I'd started to realise since having that conversation with Payton, that I'd made a stupid decision.

  “I'd like you to stay. Although it's only shepherd’s pie, and it's a bit warm for it.” It was almost thirty degrees, only slightly cooler than it would be in Spain when we got there in a couple of days’ time.

  His grin was more sincere now, but it was shy, as if someone had just offered him a hand and he wasn't sure if he should take it or not.

  “You know I'll eat shepherd’s pie whatever the weather.”

  “I know you'll eat most things never mind the weather.”

  He gave me a nod. “True.”

  For the next hour he sat at the table with Rose, going through her maths homework, reminding her of what she had learned the week before, then listening to her read. She was learning to tell the time on top of everything else, so he took a clock off the wall, the really simple one I’d bought to help her, and started to test her, rewarding her with silly faces and jokes and daft comments when she got it right.

  I cooked, listening in to the two of them when they weren't whispering, trying to hear what they were saying when they were. I heard Rose giggle a couple of times, and then caught her staring at me, so I knew he was saying something to her. I was desperate to know what.

  “Seph's going to be in France when we’re in Spain, Mummy,” Rose said, when she polished off her miniscule portion. “He showed me in the atlas where we'll both be.” The atlas was Rose's latest obsession, that and Google Earth. We'd already tracked the flight from London across to Spain, and found her grandma’s house and plotted out our trek to the beach that we’d definitely be taking each day.

  I waited to hear her ask if we could see Seph while we were both away, my brain whirring around trying to find a reason why we couldn't that she would understand and so would he, but I couldn't find one.

  “What can you tell me about Spain?” I asked her, changing the subject away from Seph. This started her off nicely, reciting all the things that she had managed to find out about where Grandma now lived.

  Seph caught my eye and grinned, knowing that neither of us were properly listening. We just enjoyed the happy noise of her talking, using it as chance to eat without having to answer one of my daughter’s never-ending questions.

  “Have you done all your homework?” I knew she would have. Her school didn't give too much, and she probably would have liked more.

  “Yes, Mummy. Can I go and play?”

  I wasn't sure if I wanted her to leave or not, because if she did, I’d be on my own with Seph in my house for the first time since I told him I wanted to slow things down.

  I was nervous, and Rose was a good distraction from that.

  “Sure. You've got half an hour before bath time.”

  She shot off again, talking to herself, or possibly the characters in her head that she'd been making up.

  Seph stood up and collected up the plates. “Thanks for dinner,” he said, taking them into the kitchen. “When’s your flight?”

  “Day after tomorrow.”

  He nodded, opening the dishwasher and starting to fill it. His mother had him well-trained.

  “Hope it goes okay.” He looked awkward. “I need to go. There's a suit fitting happening at Ava’s, and if I don't get there so she can have one final check, I'm pretty sure that my body will arrive in France in pieces, and I'm already late.”

  He was late because of me, because I'd asked him to stay for dinner, and either he didn't want to let me down and say no, or he still wanted to spend time with me.

  “No problem. I'd rather you stay in one piece. Say hi to Ava for me.” I wished this awkwardness would go, wished it would evaporate like spilled water on a hot day, a mess that no one needed to clean up.

  “Sure.” He nodded, but didn't move. “If you change your mind about coming to France, everyone, including me would still love to have you there. Both of you. And for the record, I never felt it was moving too quickly.” He bent his head to mine and pressed a kiss to my cheek that was more bittersweet than anything I'd ever had before.

  Then he left, and I was pretty sure he took what was left of my heart with him.

  Travelling with a small child was something that I had done at least twice a year so it really should’ve been getting easier. It wasn't, mainly because each time I went to the airport she got excited or worried for a completely different reason and I never knew quite what to expect or to prepare for.

  We had an early morning flight to Barcelona, where we’d pick up a car for the two weeks, and drive us just under an hour north up the coast to where my mother was. Olivia was already there. She'd been sending me pictures of her feet either hovering over the pool or on the beach for the past week. I'd spoken to her only once, and she hadn't mentioned anything about work at all. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or something to worry about. No doubt I'd find out when I got there.

  “Mummy, will the plane crash?”

  Oh, Lord. Please not this.

  “Mummy, what would happen if a wing fell off? Would the plane crash then?”

  The woman sat on the other side of Rose had started to look a little nervous.

  “The plane isn't going to crash. No wing is going to fall off, and in a couple of hours we'll be in another country. Can you remember how to count to ten in Spanish?” I hoped she could, and hoped she remembered it right, because I didn't have the foggiest idea.

  “Uno, dos, tres.” She looked at the children's Spanish book my mother had sent over for her, and pulled it out of the holder in front of her seat.

  I let go of the breath that I'd been holding and glanced at the woman who’d looked green a few seconds before. She was back to a normal colour now, although I heard her asking her husband how soon the stewards would be offering wine.

  Somehow, I managed to fall asleep, catching up after a night spent mainly packing and wondering whether or not I’d be doing the right thing if I messaged Seph.

  I didn't in the end. I drafted out about a dozen different messages, some that were just random observations about work, or London, or the new secretary that’d just started. Some were explanations, apologies, me asking if we could just forget what I had said because I didn't feel that way anymore.

  Seph wasn't my ex. He wasn't going to leave me in the lurch. He wasn't going to see someone else behind my back. And even if he was cross with me at any point, he'd never take that out on Rose.

  The first thing I thought about when I woke up, after realising I had an extremely well behaved child who hadn't done anything she shouldn’t while I was fast asleep, was ask her what Seph had been whispering when he was helping her with her homework.

  “He told me not to tell you.” She smiled mischievously, still looking at her story book that she brought on the plane along with about three others.

  “But we don't keep secrets from each other.” I was slightly annoyed that she didn't just tell me straight away.

  Rose shook her head. “He told me that you'd want to know.”

  “Did he say why I'd want to know?”

  Her smile this time was cunning, and a little smug. The same smile I'd seen Seph wear.

  “Nope! Mummy, how long is it till we get there?”

  I gave up, hoping that she wouldn't demand an answer and refusing to give her one
anyway, out of spite more than anything.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Seph

  My phone had pinged three times since I'd been lying on the sun lounger by the pool. It was hot, hot enough that no one was complaining about having a steady stream of cold beers, but not too hot so that you were bathed in your own sweat and baking in your own skin.

  I wasn't sure if I had the energy to bend down and pick up my phone, to see who it was demanding my attention, but I'd already had a couple of messages from Georgia, chatty ones, not just ones about Rose either, but ones about her too.

  I sat up and reached down, almost knocking over a full beer bottle, which would have been a shame. I angled my phone so that I could see the screen without the sun bouncing off it. Georgia’s name was the first thing I saw, and I felt like a child on Christmas Day as I opened it.

  Georgia: Is it illegal to murder a sibling? Asking for a friend.

  Seph: Depends on what they’ve done, but usually, no.

  Georgia: Olivia’s decided to have a fling with the bartender who has the beer place on the beach. I’m not sure this is the best example for my daughter who now thinks she’s going to be a bridesmaid. How the hell do I explain this one?”

  Seph: You don’t. You just roll your eyes and shake your head. Don’t make a big thing of it.

  Georgia: How do you know these things?

  Seph: Because that’s what Mum did whenever Max brought a girl home. Just pretend Olivia’s really silly.

  Georgia: That’s not something I’m going to have to pretend. How’s Ava? Has she calmed down any?

  Seph: Out of all of my sisters, I would’ve thought she’d have been the most chilled with all of this. Not the Godzilla she’s turned into.

  Georgia: It’s bridezilla, not Godzilla.

  Seph: No. It’s really Godzilla. Bridezilla suggests some form of humanity. I think Eli’s getting ready to divorce her, and they’re not even married yet. He’s never seen this side to her.

  Georgia: Are you exaggerating or is this serious?

  Seph: I never exaggerate.

  Georgia: I’m sure you told me your penis was the size of a baseball bat.

  Seph: Like I said, I never exaggerate.

  Seph: Good to know you’re thinking about my penis.

  Georgia: Yes, well…

  Seph: As long as it’s my penis, and not the beach bartender’s friend or something.

  Georgia: Is that jealousy?

  Seph: Yes. He’s getting to see you in a bikini and I’m not.

  Two minutes later, I received a photo of two of my favourite things wrapped up in a bikini that definitely did my swimming short situation no favours. We hadn’t text flirted for a couple of weeks. Slowing things down had meant with communication as well, and now I wondered if that had been necessary.

  Seph: Now. I’m definitely jealous. And hard.

  Georgia: How hard?

  Seph: You remember that time in your kitchen when we were on our own and you wore that lingerie set?

  Georgia: The see-through one?

  Seph: Yes. That one. I’m going to have to get in the pool. If I drop my phone in there it’s your fault.

  Georgia: You started this conversation.

  Seph: You sent the picture. This is painful.

  Georgia: Are you in the pool now?

  Georgia: Please tell me you didn’t drop your phone?

  Seph: I didn’t drop my phone. I’d rather lie there with a ranging hard on than drop my phone, because then I would be unable to hear from you.

  Georgia: Sometimes you say the sweetest things.

  Georgia: But I’d rather you dropped your phone getting into the pool than Eliza spotting your pencil pointing upwards in your shorts.

  Seph: Pencil? I thought we agreed it was a baseball bat?

  Georgia: You told me it was a baseball bat. I didn’t agree with that.

  Seph: So what would you compare it to?

  Georgia: I’m not answering that. Your head is big enough.

  Seph: But the question is – which one?

  I sent her a selfie of me in the pool, a perfectly decent one in case Rose happened to see it.

  Georgia: You’ve caught the sun quick.

  Seph: I tan easily. How’s the ginger complexion going? Burned yet?

  Georgia: I’m a lovely non-painful shade of pink. Liv’s managed to cinder all her shoulders. Not that it’s stopping bar boy from hanging all over them.

  Georgia: I think she might move over here and help him run his bar.

  Seph: Just think of the cheap cocktails.

  Georgia: True. How do you always manage to find the silver lining.

  Seph: It’s a talent. That’s why you need to keep me around.

  There was a gap of a few minutes before the dots started to appear on the screen and I wondered if I’d come on too strong.

  Georgia: I want to keep you around for more than that.

  Relief saturated me.

  Seph: Good. Because I want to be around you for more than that.

  Seph: We’re keeping Eli fairly drunk most of the day, so he doesn’t notice Ava’s Godzilla-ing. No one wants to lose this opportunity to get Ava married off.

  Georgia: I'm sure she's not that bad.

  Seph: Nope, you're right, she's not that bad; she's worse.

  Georgia: Wait until you get married and you have to cope with the stress of it all.

  Seph: Do you really think I'd get stressed over something like a wedding? I'm pretty sure I'd be far too excited.

  Georgia: You'll also be far too worried that your bride would see sense and run off.

  Seph: Do you really think my bride wouldn't go through with it?

  Georgia: It would depend on who she was, wouldn't it?

  Seph: It would. I agree. What would be your dream wedding?

  It was a question I was pretty sure I could lose my man card for asking, and definitely one my brothers would have pulled their faces if they'd heard me ask it. Georgia wasn't stupid, and I hoped she knew that when I talked about brides there was only one person I could consider. Only one person I had ever considered. Her. Even though it hadn't been that long, and even now there was an argument that it was too soon, slowing things down had only made me realise how much I didn't want to be without her, and everything that entailed.

  Georgia: I don't know. I've never been one of those girls who's really thought about it. Nothing huge or pressured. I quite like the idea of something similar to what Ava's done.

  Seph: I can't see you becoming a Godzilla though.

  Georgia: You never know. Weddings do strange things to people. I have to go; Rose really wants me to help her make a sandcastle. Talk to you later?

  Seph: Definitely. I look forward to it. And in the meantime, if you want to take anymore pictures of you in a bikini, that would be great.

  Georgia: Perv.

  I laughed and shoved my phone back towards my sun lounger, needing to do a few laps the pool just to burn off the energy I had amassed through texting with her. I’d felt like shit when we'd come out here; I practically had to drag myself onto the plane and force myself to be sociable. I'd wanted to be coming out here with Georgia, for us to be together as a couple, and parenting Rose, which I suppose kind of made us a family.

  “What's the matter, Uncle Seph?”

  I looked up from the pool, slowing down my lap, and saw Claire sitting at the side, holding Niamh.

  “Nothing’s up, apart from the sky, and that's pretty cloudless.”

  She faked a laugh. “That's hilarious, Seph. A proper dad joke. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've heard our dad crack the same one.”

  “Probably.” I kicked my way to the side where she was. “I was just texting Georgia.”

  “And?”

  All my siblings, and my parents, knew what had happened between Georgia and I. No one had pressed me for any more detail. I'd figured Max had mentioned it to Victoria, she’d said something to Claire, Claire had mentioned it to Killian, and
he'd probably said something to Owen and so the grapevine had continued. No one had said anything that criticized what Georgia had done either. Claire had been sympathetic, understanding where she was coming from with having a child.

  “We were kind of flirting.” We were more than flirting but I wasn't going to tell Claire that, she'd just demand to see the phone.

  “So, do you think she'll drive over? She's only a few miles away. I know Ava would really like to have her here still, and if she could make that smile return to your face, I think we'd all be very happy.”

  Usually, from Claire, we expected sarcasm and salt. She would be cutting when she thought needed, and praise was something that was rare. This was a different tack; she actually seemed softer.

  Of course, it could be a trap.

  “She didn't mention anything. She was telling me that her sister had hooked up with some bartender.”

  “You could go to her. We've got a couple of days before Ava gets married. That's enough time to get there and back to see her.” Claire passed me Niamh, who’d had her first splash in the swimming pool yesterday and had absolutely loved it.

  I took the baby from my sister and held her so her toes and feet would dip in the water. She giggled and kicked straight away. “Georgia’s asked for space. Me turning up there wouldn't be giving it to her. She knows where I am, and she knows where I'll be when we get home.”

  “Okay.” Claire nodded, surprisingly not saying anymore. “We're hoping you've got something planned for Eli tomorrow night, because we're going to get Ava drunk.”

  “Is that your attempt at making her a normal person again before she gets married?”

  Claire laughed and Niamh turned her head to try and look for her mother. “Seph, this is how most women act just before they're about to get married. One day you'll be in the same position that Eli is.”

  “Jesus.” I muttered it under my breath. “Maybe I'm best staying single.”

  She laughed again, but this time it was at me instead of with me. “You need to take Eli out for the day. Go out on a boat with a load of beers or something.”