by Heidi Rice
‘I see.’
‘You’re not mad at him, are you, Mum?’
Well, he had lied, but she’d done a few of those white lies herself and she could see now he’d been very vulnerable. And she’d put him on the spot by asking him to move in without even realising it. Plus, it sounded as if he’d been super honourable with Lizzie, despite their couch clinch. ‘No, I’m not mad at him. But I do think I need to have a little talk with him.’
‘You’re not going to fire him, are you?’
‘That would be up to all three of us, and him. I think Aldo would be devastated if he leaves. But I’m not going to pretend that it wouldn’t be uncomfortable to have him here looking after Aldo and knowing that the two of you are an item.’
‘But we’re not really an item.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I’d like us to be an item. I’m not going to lie, but I care about him, Mum. Much more than I ever did for Liam and I guess it would be better for him if we cooled it for a bit. You know, he’s dealing with all this stuff with his mum dying, and I think Dad punching him in the face probably didn’t help much. Trey takes stuff really seriously. He’ll probably think it’s all his fault that Dad punched him. I don’t want him to feel bad.’
‘It sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought.’ And been super mature about it, too, Halle thought, her admiration for her daughter increasing. Lizzie was putting Trey’s needs first, and while this might just be puppy love, it still showed a level of maturity that she had never managed with Luke at Lizzie’s age.
There’s that bitch hindsight again, come back to bite me.
Lizzie nodded, her face sober. ‘I have. I’ve had a lot of time to think over the past week or so. Getting to know Trey, making things up a bit with Aldo, and I’ve realised I’ve been a total bitch for a while now. I don’t want to be that person any more.’
‘Lizzie, you’re not a bitch.’
‘If you say so, Mum.’ Lizzie sent her a look that said, Yes, I am, but it’s nice of you not to rub it in. ‘Can I ask you a question?’
Halle nodded. ‘Of course.’
‘What was Dad doing here?’
‘Ahhh.’
‘Don’t lie. Please.’
‘I won’t,’ she said, but she didn’t defend herself against the accusation. Clearly, Lizzie had known as well as Aldo that she had not been entirely truthful in her dealings with them. How humiliating to get caught out by your kids. ‘I may have been a bit, shall we say, economical with the truth about where I’ve been the past twelve days.’
‘You mean you lied.’
You are so busted, lady. ‘Yes, I lied.’
‘So where were you?’
‘Would you believe with your father in a log cabin in Tennessee at an extreme couples’ retreat?’
‘No way.’ Lizzie couldn’t have looked more shocked if Halle had just announced she’d flown to Jupiter to marry an alien.
‘There was hiking and kayaking involved.’ Halle shuddered. ‘So yes, way.’
‘Why?’
Because he blackmailed me into it. The easy answer very nearly came out of her mouth. But she knew that wasn’t the whole truth any more. Not even half of the truth really. And after sixteen years, Lizzie deserved to finally hear the whole truth.
Luke had been right about that, too.
‘Because we had a lot of stuff to sort out between us. Stuff that I’ve allowed to fester for sixteen years. He wants to be a much bigger part of your life.’ Why hadn’t she realised that was what this had really been all about all along? The hot-tub sex, the soul-searching, probably even the Monroe article had all been a by-product. ‘And he couldn’t see a way to do that when I wouldn’t talk to him about you.’
She had thought of contacting Jamie to see if what Luke had said was true, that he’d tried to change the terms of the custody agreement in recent years and Jamie hadn’t informed her. But, on careful consideration, she knew it was true. She’d been very clear with Jamie that she wanted to have no contact with Luke. That Jamie was supposed to handle everything without involving her, so that was just what he’d done. He was a solicitor, not a marriage guidance counsellor. And, anyway, he’d tried to tell her Luke wasn’t such a bad guy in his office, as soon as she found out about the memoirs, and she’d refused to listen.
‘But why didn’t Dad just ask me?’ Lizzie said. ‘I’ve been able to see him whenever I want since I was sixteen.’
‘I know, but I think he was worried he’d be putting you in the middle if he asked you without getting me onside first.’ And how could she not have realised that, either. That while she’d been shutting him out, Luke had been putting their daughter’s welfare first.
‘But, Mum, how could you spend all that time in Tennessee with him when you hate him?’
The matter-of-fact statement had the last of Halle’s hope dying, that maybe Lizzie had never been aware of her anger towards Luke.
‘I don’t hate him.’ And I probably never did. ‘And I’m sorry that I made you think that.’ Did she love him? She pushed the thought back.
Not about you. This is about your daughter, and all the lies and half-truths you’ve told, the secrets you’ve kept, to protect yourself from hurt while refusing to admit that you were hurting her.
‘We actually had a good time while we were in Tennessee. We cleared the air and … There was a lot of stuff that happened years ago, before you were born and when you were little, that we needed to deal with. And we did.’ And they had done a lot of other stuff besides, which their eighteen-year-old daughter would never know about.
‘What stuff?’ Lizzie asked.
Halle felt her cheeks getting warm. ‘It’s a long story.’
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Lizzie prompted. ‘Please tell me, Mum.’ She played with the quilt cover, clearly torn about asking. ‘I’ve always wanted to know what happened between you and Dad, but neither of you ever wanted to speak about it.’
Because we’ve been cowards, both of us.
Luke had admitted as much back at the resort. Now it was her turn to do the same.
Slinging her arm round Lizzie’s shoulders, she hugged her tight. ‘OK, well, I guess I should start at the beginning. The first time I spoke to your father, he was sixteen, I was fifteen and we were in a drama class together. He told me I caught like a girl and I believe I called him a sexist snot-bag.’
Lizzie choked out a laugh. ‘Go on, this sounds like it might be pretty funny.’
‘You have no idea,’ Halle said wryly.
It took almost an hour, during which Aldo came in twice scavenging for food, and Trey finally sent Lizzie a two-line text, which simply read:
I’m at home, I’m fine & I’m really sorry. Pls tell yr Mum I’m sorry 2.
Even so, Lizzie stayed riveted to the story, at turns inquisitive, sad, surprised and delighted. Some of it she had known, but most of it she hadn’t. Halle didn’t tell her everything, skating over the truth about how Lizzie had been conceived—she doubted her daughter had ever been an Oasis fan—and the more traumatic details of Luke’s childhood or the full scope of his breakdown in the Gare du Nord. That would be Luke’s story to tell. But it did occur to her as she was tiptoeing through the details that if Luke had been there as they had originally arranged, those bits would have been much easier.
She’d also avoided any mention of all the make-up sex … Because it wasn’t relevant any more. And no eighteen-year-old, no matter how mature, wanted to hear intimate details about her parents’ sex life.
By the end of the story, Halle was exhausted. Reliving her history with Luke, with his perspective now added into the mix, had been like going on a roller-coaster ride, those huge peaks and devastating dips both shockingly dramatic and also painfully inevitable. She’d never been a big fan of roller coasters; they’d always made her nauseous even as a teenager. And, in many ways, this metaphorical one was no different. But as she finished off the story and saw Lizzie’s rapt expression, the bone-deep rel
ief she felt went some way to calm the huge swell of emotion rising up in her stomach.
At least she could finally step off the roller coaster and step away from the emotional burdens of her past. Unfortunately, that didn’t help much with handling the emotional burdens of her present.
‘So you did love him once?’ Lizzie said, sounding awestruck.
‘Yes, I did. I loved him very much.’ She’d questioned that so many times in the years since, even in the past twelve days. Maybe it hadn’t been the forever type of love. Neither of them had been ready for that then; they’d been far too young. But still it felt good not to have to hate her romantic, optimistic sixteen-year-old self any more for falling so fast and so thoroughly for that troubled, traumatised seventeen-year-old boy. What disturbed her now, though, was the realization that mature, sensible, pragmatic Halle may well have done the same damn thing all over again.
‘So what happens now?’ Lizzie asked.
‘Well …’ Halle brushed her hands down her jeans. ‘I’d like to have a shower and change my clothes, and then I think we should head over to Trey’s place and make sure he’s really OK.’ It was something they’d already agreed to do when his text had come through.
Lizzie sent her a sideways look. ‘I meant what happens to you and Dad.’
‘Nothing happens to me and your dad,’ she said nonchalantly, determined to ignore the great gaping hole opening up in her chest. ‘Except that we get to start over as your parents and get on your case as a united front.’
One thing they must not do, she decided, was let their latest bust-up close the lines of communication again. But somehow she didn’t think that would be a problem. Luke had seemed resigned, not bitter, when he’d left. Unfortunately, that observation only made the hollow ache more painful.
‘Really, Mum? Is that all you want? Because when you were talking about Dad just now, it sounded like there might be more.’
Halle shook her head, determined not to put any of this stuff on her daughter. Lizzie was their child, she was still a teenager, she wasn’t Halle’s confidante. She couldn’t put her in the middle of all this and expect her to understand. But as she opened her mouth to deny it, to stick to her conviction that whatever had been developing with Luke, it would never have worked, the breaker rose up and crashed over inside her.
‘Bloody hell.’ Her shoulders began to shake, her vision blurred, the swell breaking like a tsunami and sweeping away everything in its path.
Lizzie’s arm came round her shoulders. ‘Why are you crying, Mum?’
‘I think I’ve done something really idiotic.’ She scrubbed the tears away with an impatient hand, but more tears just kept coming, the sadness overwhelming her again as her daughter’s arm tightened.
‘Which is?’ Lizzie asked.
‘I’ve fallen in love with him again.’ She sighed, the breath backing up in her lungs.
Good God, don’t you dare start sobbing now.
‘Ignore that,’ she said. ‘I’m being ridiculous. It’s just the pressure, that’s all. It can’t be true. I can’t possibly be in love with him. Not after twelve days.’
Any more than he could possibly be in love with me.
‘Why are you trying to argue yourself out of it? Being in love’s not a bad thing, you know.’
She looked round to find Lizzie smiling at her, the grin on her face so sweet and so pleased and so sure.
Oh, baby, it’s so much simpler when you’re young.
‘I know he can be a total idiot at times,’ Lizzie continued. ‘But he’s a guy, so you’ve got to make allowances for that,’ she added, the hope and encouragement in her expression not doing much to calm the churning waves still buffeting Halle. ‘But he’s mostly a pretty terrific dad. And I bet he’d make a pretty terrific boyfriend if you gave him half a chance.’
Halle sniffed and coughed out a half laugh, unsure whether to be mortified or just impossibly touched that she was now getting dating advice from her daughter.
And not really having a clue where she was going to go from here.
Well, whatever happens next, one thing’s for sure. Luke Best has managed to turn me into a complete basket case again.
Chapter 24
‘OK, guys, we’re here. According to his CV, Trey lives at number 6A.’
Lizzie’s stomach bounced at her mum’s overly bright tone as they parked in front of the narrow Victorian terrace. Lizzie noted the peeling paint on the plasterwork, the rusted bike buried in the long grass of the communal front garden and the broken gate that led down to the basement flat, which had burglar bars on the front window.
She’d never given any thought to where Trey might live, but it was hard not to notice the massive gulf between the immaculate grandeur of her family’s six-million-pound Georgian house in Notting Hill and this run-down building located in the un-gentifried end of Kensal Rise, which had probably been split into council flats a generation ago, and hadn’t seen much work done on it since.
Her guilt over initiating their kiss that morning multiplied a few thousand times.
It had been impulsive and immature and selfish. Trey needed this job. And she’d put him in a tough position, jumping him the way she had.
Aldo hopped out of the car. He skipped from foot to foot, as if he had a thousand Mexican jumping beans down his pants. ‘I’m gonna go ring his bell.’
‘Aldo, wait!’ Her mum managed to grab his sleeve before he could race off. She peered back across the driver’s seat at Lizzie, keeping a firm grip on Aldo’s arm.
‘Lizzie needs to talk to him first,’ her mum said, the look of total faith in her eyes warming Lizzie from the inside.
‘But I want to see him, too,’ Aldo whined.
‘We’ll speak to him in a bit,’ her mum said. ‘But Lizzie has things she needs to say to him first that you might not want to hear.’
‘Kissing stuff?’ Aldo gagged on the horror of it.
Her mum’s lips quirked. ‘Possibly.’
Lizzie smiled at Aldo’s forceful ‘yuck’. Her stomach muscles twisted uncomfortably, though, as she climbed out of the car.
This was likely to be the hardest conversation she’d ever had in her life. And she wasn’t sure she could pull it off. Her track record when it came to having mature and sensible conversations pretty much sucked.
Her mum gripped her hand. ‘Do you need any advice?’
Lizzie nodded, realising she wanted her mum’s advice more than anything.
‘Be honest with him. However hard that is.’ She squeezed her fingers and then let go. ‘Take as long as you need. Aldo and I will wait in the car till you’re ready for us.’
‘Thanks, Mum.’
Lizzie headed down the basement steps to Trey’s front door, tuning out Aldo’s cry of protest as their mum loaded him back into the car.
She pressed the bell and heard it buzz loudly inside the flat. The blinds on the bay window were drawn, so she couldn’t see in. Maybe he wasn’t at home any more.
The thought of a reprieve didn’t make her stomach settle, though. Then she heard the sound of footsteps and the click of the latch. And her stomach went into free fall.
Trey appeared in the doorway. His eyebrows leaped up his forehead, his expression not happy or horrified, just stunned. ‘Lizzie, what are you doing here?’
‘Hi, my mum’s waiting in the car.’ She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. ‘With Aldo, because all three of us wanted to make sure you’re really OK, after what happened this morning. And we all wanted you to know that we want you to come back to work. Not today, obviously, just when you’re ready.’ She was starting to babble, but she didn’t care. Babbling was better than being struck dumb. ‘But I wanted to talk to you first because … I have some apologising to do.’
The heat in her face had hit boiling point, so she was glad to see that beneath his olive-toned skin, his face had gone a spectacular shade of magenta, too.
‘A lot of apologising to do really,’ she added.
Her heart ticked into her throat. God, keeping her hands off him was going to be even tougher than she thought. He was so stupidly gallant, and totally adorable. But beneath the surge of love—and lust—was the new and heady feeling of confidence.
Trey being Trey, of course he was taking all the responsibility for the scene this morning. She’d have to set him straight on that score. Because, seriously, did he really think that kiss had been his idea?
But how come she’d never realised before how much power she had? Using that power for good instead of evil was going to make life tough for a while. Not least because she now knew exactly how awesome Trey and his kissing skills were.
But when had anything good, anything worthwhile, ever been easy? And did she really want it to be? She’d recently discovered, not just from Trey, but from what her mum had told her about her and her dad’s relationship, that real grown-up relationships were tough to negotiate for a very good reason. They involved two people whose needs and desires, whose hopes and dreams, all had to be met. Dancing through that minefield successfully without blowing your foot off en route was never going to be easy.
But at least she and Trey would be dancing through the minefield together. And if it was going to take much longer than planned to get to the other side, who cared? Because it was how they got there that mattered.
‘Trey.’ Her heart swelled into her throat at his earnest expression. ‘I know we’re going to have to cool it when you come back to work. Because it would make my mum super uncomfortable if she caught us kissing like that again. And Aldo would probably have a breakdown.’ And the chances of them being able to stop at kissing were iffy at best. And the last thing she wanted to do was make his life harder.
