by Isla Gordon
‘Good,’ she smiled. ‘Actually, I got to know Abe a little more, he’s been visiting his mum a lot while you’ve been gone.’
Did he imagine it or was she holding her breath, waiting for his reaction?
‘You did?’ Flynn swallowed.
‘Yeah, he’s a good guy, actually. We get along well.’
His indecision, his lack of spontaneity, all these things about himself he so desperately wanted to change, but was it all too late? Had he lost her?
Not knowing how to respond, he changed the subject. ‘That thing with Callie just then … that didn’t sound good.’
August grew sad and serious all at once; it was a face he rarely saw.
‘I feel bad, Flynn,’ August admitted, knotting her hands together. ‘Callie definitely knows something’s off. I feel really bad for lying to her, and Mrs Haverley, and our other neighbours. Do you?’
‘I do, I have for a while,’ he answered.
‘How would you feel … ’ August paused, unable to form the words. She gulped, and let the words blurt out; as was always her way. ‘How would you feel about us coming clean? Telling everyone the truth? Stopping this façade?’
‘Is it because of him?’ Flynn asked, quietly.
August took a beat. ‘Abe?’
Flynn and August locked their gaze, and he knew the answer without her having to say it. He wasn’t angry – what right would he have had to be angry? – but he missed her without her even taking a step away from him. He missed the way she’d kissed him, he missed her climbing into his bed, he missed the way she was unafraid around him and how she brought his life colour.
Everything would need to change if she and Abe became a couple. Even if they kept living under the same roof, for a while, that wouldn’t last for ever.
August spoke, breaking him from his thoughts. ‘It’s a little bit about Abe, but it’s mainly just about us. I don’t want to pretend and lie and live my life this way anymore. Do you?’
Chapter 81
August
August let Flynn sleep off his jet lag the next day, and took charge buying some supplies for the neighbour drinks that evening. She didn’t buy much – to be honest she was hoping to have everyone in and out in under an hour, so she could have a good talk with Flynn.
He’d come back, and she didn’t know what that meant, but she knew she was more pleased to see him than anything else she felt right now.
In the afternoon she crept into his room, where he was snoring softly, and climbed onto his bed.
‘Flynn?’ she whispered. She watched him, not in a creepy way, but just for a minute so she could remember him like this if it turned out they needed to go their separate ways.
Here he was, this man who had barrelled into her life over a spilt cup of coffee, and become her friend, her confidant, her flatmate and her fake husband. He was warm, from his kisses to his soul, and more than anything she wanted him to be happy.
The room was dark, but not pitch black, the daylight straining to find its way through the closed curtains. ‘Flynn?’ she whispered again, lying down next to him. ‘You need to wake up or you’ll never sleep tonight.’
He murmured, a smile flittering across his mouth, and without opening his eyes he draped an arm over her. ‘Jet lag is winning,’ he said, his voice sleepy.
‘It sure is. Do you want to wake up?’
In the gloom, his eyelashes fluttered, and then he was looking at her, next to him, their breathing synced. Flynn’s hand moved to her arm and he rested it there. She should move. If she didn’t want anything to happen between them, she should move right now, because all signs pointed to him thinking about kissing her. August didn’t move.
But after an eternity of holding in the moment, Flynn exhaled, and dropped his hand. ‘Okay, I’m awake,’ he whispered, and he smiled, rubbing his eyes.
‘Good,’ August rolled onto her back and watched the ceiling for a second, composing herself. ‘The neighbours will be over in a couple of hours, I’ve got everything we need – wine, cake, crisps.’
‘Thanks, Aug.’
‘No problem. Consider it a really lame welcome home party.’
Up until their guests arrived, bang on 5 p.m., August and Flynn shuffled around each other, polite, a little confused, very much in need of a good heart-to-heart once this was out the way.
Allen and Maud arrived first, full of chit-chat and wanting to know all about Flynn’s trip to Japan. Callie and her mum came shortly afterwards, and though Callie gave August a slightly guarded look, she whispered, ‘Sorry for storming out yesterday, hon, we’ll have a catch up when we can and you can tell me anything that’s been bothering you. Maybe over a yoga mat, okay?’
August nodded, pleased that Callie wasn’t furious, but more determined than ever to admit the truth to her.
Flynn was about to serve up the rest of the cake – he too was clearly hoping for a short and sweet neighbour get together this evening – when someone mentioned Mrs Haverley.
‘Mrs H, of course!’ August stood up. ‘I was going to take her up a piece of cake because she’s not been well. Shall I pop up now?’
‘That’s a nice idea,’ Maud said. ‘Flynn, you go with her and say hello and we’ll pour another round of wines.’
August and Flynn nipped up the stairs armed with a glass of red and a slab of cake. They delivered it to Mrs H, who was in a chair in the living room, trying to figure out how to turn off Love Island, which she claimed not to actually be watching, on her newly installed Netflix. She was on her own, as Abe was out picking her up some medical supplies from the Boots in town. August and Flynn stayed a few minutes, helping her switch off Netflix, and showing her how to switch it back on again, should she change her mind, before leaving to return downstairs to their guests.
From the staircase, August could see their door was open, though she was sure Flynn had closed it on his way out.
She heard voices as they descended, so the neighbours hadn’t left …
Then August heard one voice she hadn’t expected, and it turned her to stone, icy air washing over her like the February frost had been let right into the building and found its way to her feet, legs, arms and heart.
August gripped Flynn’s arm and he came to a stop beside her, and they met each other’s eyes.
‘What is it?’ he asked.
This couldn’t be happening, August thought, frozen on the staircase. She never just popped over.
The voice rang out louder, a dominating annoyance the vocal equivalent of stamping one’s foot:
‘I think I would know and I can assure you, my daughter is not married.’
August took off, jumping the rest of the stairs two at a time, and skidded into her flat with Flynn right behind her. Standing there in a huddle in front of one of their framed, fake wedding photos was Mrs Anderson, August’s mum, her smart coat still buttoned up, her gloves in her hand, and her lips pursed together.
‘August Anderson, what is going on?’ her mum demanded, facing her daughter. ‘It can’t be true. Can it? I’ve told them you’re not married. That you would have told me, but … ’
All of them faced her: Allen, Maud, Callie’s mum, Callie.
‘What are you doing here, Mum?’ August asked, her heart thudding in her chest.
‘You’re always telling me to pop over, I had an appointment in Bath, and since I knew your flatmate was away, I thought we could have dinner together. Or should I say your husband, according to the photo I saw as soon as your friends let me in?’
‘It’s, um—’ Flynn started, but he was as lost for words as August, and they both stood there with mouths opening and closing like a couple of fish out of water. August moved her eyes to Callie, who shook her head and turned her gaze away.
‘Callie … ’ August pleaded, her voice quiet, but Callie refused to look up.
‘What is this?’ Mrs Anderson continued, holding the photo in the air. ‘I thought it was just you two having a bit of fun until this one—
’ she jabbed the picture towards Allen ‘—told me it was a picture from your wedding day. Imagine my surprise! I certainly don’t remember an invite to your wedding!’
‘Perhaps they eloped?’ Maud suggested and then backed away from August’s mother’s death stare.
‘Yes, maybe it was a long time ago and they forgot to tell you,’ Allen added. Maud swatted him for his ridiculous suggestion.
Mrs Anderson tutted. ‘They did not elope, they are just flatmates, they didn’t even know each other before they moved in here.’
‘They didn’t,’ Callie said, but it sounded less like a question and more a quiet confirmation, like she’d suspected as much, somehow.
‘Look, August, I know you like playing the actress, but this has clearly gone far enough. Either you’re pretending to be married to him for some reason, or you’ve completely left me in the dark about the relationship you two really have. So come on, who are you lying to. Them? Or me?’
Them. Or her.
There were really only two choices here. Either August and Flynn confessed to the lie, or they dove even deeper into it by starting a whole new lie to her mum. It was a no brainer, of course, and with all the exhaustion August had felt from carrying around this secret for the past six months, she slid her eyes back towards the neighbours and whispered, ‘I’m sorry.’
Flynn found her hand, hanging limply at her side. ‘I’m sorry, too. It was all my fault.’
Maud and Allen left first, heads down, mutterings of ‘let’s leave them to it, dear, we can find out the truth tomorrow.’
Callie’s mum collected up her and her daughter’s belongings, without looking at Flynn or August, and made for the door.
Callie was silent for a moment, hurt in her expression, the weight of the deceit rooting her to the spot. And then she walked past August without another word.
‘Callie? Let me explain.’
‘Not now,’ she said, and closed the door behind her.
August faced her mum, who put the picture down on the shelf again. ‘I don’t know what that was all about,’ she said, eventually. ‘But perhaps one of you can make me a cup of tea and I can lend you an ear. Honestly, August, it’s tall tales like this that make me feel your grandmother is back with us, sometimes.’
Chapter 82
August
The following morning, on Sunday, August lay in bed after a restless night wondering how she’d let the web she’d woven get destroyed, instead of untangling it herself when she had the chance. Because let’s be honest, she’d had a lot of chances. They both had.
Now they all knew, and they all probably hated her and Flynn. But even if they did, even if there was no way she could make up for the lies and deceit, the least she could do was make sure there weren’t any more.
She and Flynn had agreed, yesterday evening, that they would tell Mrs Haverley together, after she confessed to Abe first. She wanted to be the one to do that, alone.
But first she wanted to talk to Callie.
August crept out of her room and listened at Flynn’s door to see if he was awake, but the apartment was silent. So she left him a note. A note, rather than a text, felt like it had just the right blend of personal touch and dramatic flair.
Morning, Flynn,
I’ve decided to go up and talk to Callie about us. I hope you don’t mind that we haven’t done this together but I want to clear the air with her, if I can, as soon as possible. I hope you understand.
So this is it … the truth comes out today.
She hesitated, not sure whether or not to write the next bit. But it felt right, and it felt like the truth, so she went for it.
Whatever happens, Flynn, you’ve been the most amazing first husband a girl could ask for. Thank you. For everything.
Aug xx
August picked up her yoga mat, and left the apartment.
August knocked on Callie’s door, lightly, in case she or her mum were still sleeping. But Callie opened it a moment later, her hair in an eighties-style side-pony, a mug of tea in hand.
‘Hi, Callie.’
‘Hi, August.’
August took a deep breath. ‘I have some explaining to do. Will you come out into the back gardens and do some morning yoga with me?’
Callie regarded August for a moment, before turning to look out the window behind her. ‘It’s freezing out there.’
‘Good point … ’ she hadn’t quite factored in that yoga in five-degree weather might not be the most relaxing.
But then Callie held the door open for her. ‘Bugger it, let me whack on a few jumpers and we’ll go.’
Down in the gardens, the two of them found a sheltered spot in the morning sunshine, where it wasn’t too chilly. They sat opposite each other with their legs crossed in front of them, and Callie watched August, expectantly.
Callie stuck a leg out to the side to stretch it, and August mirrored her, and said, ‘Callie, you were right.’
Over the next ten minutes, August explained everything, while Callie stayed silent beside her. As August talked, Callie dictated the yoga moves, which got more challenging the more August spoke, so by the time she’d covered everything she was teetering on one leg in a shaky tree pose that she was pretty sure the rock-solid Callie was forcing her to hold on purpose.
‘What I don’t understand, Aug,’ said Callie, moving into warrior two, ‘is how you could lie to me so easily, after I’d been nothing but honest with you.’
August nearly toppled over with the weight of her shame. ‘I was so wrong. I was lost in a complete fog thinking about how nobody wanted to live here more than me, and that my only chance to fulfil my dreams was to start them from inside this house. To begin with it felt like an acting job, like it wouldn’t hurt anyone, but I know now that it was selfish.’
‘Yes, it was.’
‘I know this is no excuse, but I did want to tell you so many times.’
‘To be honest, love, that doesn’t help much. That’s a little bit like what my ex-husband said to me when I caught him in his lies.’
August nodded and sat down, giving up on the yoga, and instead burying her face in her hands. ‘You’re right. I’m awful. I’m so sorry, Callie. I’m going to talk to Abe today, and we’re going to tell Mrs Haverley as soon as he says she’s well enough. Whatever happens after that, I hope you can forgive me one day, because you’re an amazing friend and I’m lucky to have you in my life. And that’s the truth.’
Callie took a few moments, sitting down herself and slowing her breath, and rolling her neck, before saying with softness. ‘We’ll get there. You’re still you, right.’
‘I am, I’ve always been me, authentically me, aside from the whopping great secret life. I really need to leave the acting to the day job; I know that now.’
Finally, Callie smiled at August, and August thought that maybe, give it a little time, things might be okay between them.
‘Your mum’s a force to be reckoned with, isn’t she?’ Callie commented, her eyebrows raised.
‘Isn’t she just? Want to trade?’
‘No, thanks.’
‘I think you would have liked my gran, though,’ said August.
Callie nodded and then said, ‘Abe might be quite happy about all this.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You two have a spark, you know it.’
‘Maybe,’ August shrugged, blushing a little.
‘But then, that’s what I always thought about you and Flynn.’ Callie stood and picked up her mat. ‘I’m going to head in now, my fanny’s getting frostbite. Are you coming?’
‘I’ll be in in a moment,’ August replied.
‘All right, see you soon, love,’ and with that, Callie left the garden, but August thought, hoped, she wouldn’t be leaving her life for ever.
Chapter 83
Flynn
Flynn was stepping out of the building when Callie came around the front with her yoga mat.
‘Oh hi, Callie,’ he said with caut
ion. ‘I was just nipping down to the coffee shop, do you want anything?’ He’d been heading to get August one of those hazelnut coffees she liked, and an almond croissant, in case she needed cheering up after her confrontation. No matter what, he still found himself wanting to do anything he could, big or small, to make her happy.
‘I’m fine, thanks,’ Callie replied. ‘Listen, August told me everything.’
Flynn dropped his voice. ‘Callie, I’m sorry, I hope you know our lies were never meant to hurt anyone. We just got … ’
‘Caught up, I know, she told me.’ She smiled at him, not her usual easy smile, but one that maybe told him she’d be okay after she had some time.
‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated. ‘We’re going to tell everyone the truth now. I know Aug’s really anxious to tell Mrs H, and … Abe.’
‘Do you have feelings for her?’ Callie asked Flynn, looking at him with a directness he wasn’t used to.
Flynn hesitated, because he’d never said aloud what he now knew. ‘It’s complicated.’
‘Complicated isn’t bad,’ Callie replied, and moved to go past him before stopping and taking a deep breath, seeming to draw something from deep inside her. ‘Maybe take the complicated option instead of the easy one. Believe me, nobody wants to feel like they’re the easy option.’
Chapter 84
August
It was like a plaster now; August had started ripping and she just wanted the whole thing off. She needed to know where she stood, with the house, with Abe, with Flynn.
She called Abe later that morning and asked if he wanted to take a walk, somewhere a little away from the house. It was still cold, but maybe if she bundled up warm, and then she’d tell him everything and he’d just laugh and forgive her and kiss her and wrap his arms around her so they were both warm and it would start to snow.
