by Isla Gordon
Is that what she wanted though? Because a part of her kept thinking about Flynn. Did she want Abe? Or did she just want company and comfort at a time when she was afraid Flynn had found that with Poppy, or Yui?
Before she left she shared almond croissants with Flynn and asked, ‘Can you believe it’s all about to come out? Life as we know it might be about to change.’
‘I’m ready,’ he gave her a half smile. ‘I really am ready.’
‘You are?’ that was a relief, to hear him so certain.
Flynn continued. ‘We spent so much time prepping for how to explain our past that we didn’t even think about our future. How was it ever going to work to actually live our lives when we can’t date without complications, we can’t holiday without syncing our calendars, we can’t bring around friends and family without asking them to lie for us as well.’
‘I know. Turns out having an imaginary marriage takes a lot of work.’
‘They say a real marriage does too.’
‘Can I just say one thing?’ she said, brushing crumbs from her fingers and placing one hand on the door handle, ready to leave.
‘Of course,’ Flynn replied.
‘About all of this, the last six months, everything we’ve been through … ’ she trailed off and Flynn tried to jump in.
‘I told you, it’s not your—’
August stopped him. ‘This isn’t an apology to you. I’ve been a shitty person to a lot of people, but I didn’t force you into this. So it’s not an apology, it’s a thank you. Thank you for agreeing to this hare-brained scheme. Thank you for helping me fulfil a dream. Thank you for becoming one of my closest friends, my confidant, my one-time kissing partner.’ She laughed then, avoiding his eye, because she hadn’t exactly meant to bring that up. ‘Just, thank you.’ Before he could say it back, she opened the door and stepped onto the landing, looking back long enough to add, ‘So I’ll go, then? I’ll tell Abe the truth? Because once he knows that’s practically Mrs H knowing, and our house of cards could topple.’
Flynn nodded, and she left him in their home.
‘Abe, I need to tell you something,’ August said, as soon as she met him at the wall outside Number Eighteen. He stood tall in a smart overcoat, a maroon scarf and neat jeans. He looked like the polished version of himself today, but he was just as handsome in his PJs. She quite wanted to climb into that coat with him actually, the wool looked jolly warm.
Focus, August.
‘How’s your mum been over the weekend?’ she interrupted herself, remembering he’d said she wasn’t feeling great on Friday evening, and that he’d been out getting her some medication when they’d gone up the evening before.
‘She’s okay, better than Friday, sorry for cancelling.’ Abe smiled down at her and they began a descent of the hill. She felt his presence close to her, so magnetised that she had to stop herself from leaning her arm against him. She felt it from him too, like he wanted to touch her, like he was clasping his hands together in front of him to stop himself reaching out. ‘How’s Flynn? Did he have a good flight?’
‘Yep,’ she replied, noticing the strain in his voice.
She took a breath, wondering what this would mean for the two of them. What did she want it to mean? He was kind, they had a spark, but once the lie was set free and they could be together, would they actually want to?
Or were they just two lonely people looking for reassurance after all?
There was only one way to find out.
‘Listen. About Flynn.’
‘I don’t want to—’ he started.
‘Abe, wait. Do you remember that day of the open house, when you let Flynn and I in together?’
‘Of course.’
‘Well … We were never there together … ’ August opened up and told Abe the truth about the months she’d been living in Elizabeth Street, and about her relationship with Flynn, or, moreover, the lack of one. As she spoke, she watched his face for a sign that he was somehow happy because it meant she was single. They were free to date. But no such look came.
‘So what I’m saying is,’ she finished. ‘We both wanted to live here so much that we made a stupid mistake that we thought would land us the apartment. I made the mistake, mainly, it was my idea. I’m sorry for lying.’
Abe walked silently beside her, his eyes on the ground.
‘We’re going to tell your mum, and whatever she decides she wants us to do we’ll do, but I wanted to tell you first, because … ’
He stopped and faced her. They were on a quiet, deserted street, not far from her grandmother’s home, and shaded by trees. August’s instinct was to try and fill the silence with more babble, or apologies, but she kept her mouth shut. She let Abe, thoughtful, considered Abe, work through his thoughts.
He took a step closer to her.
‘So are you and Flynn … ’
‘There is no me and Flynn,’ August answered, although the admission caused an ache deep within her, and she wondered whether it was even true.
‘I don’t think I can do this,’ Abe said, his voice quiet, and he broke her gaze by looking down at the ground.
August touched Abe’s arm and like a spark igniting he looked up at her. And she thought about what it would be like to kiss him.
She imagined how it would feel if he grazed his fingers against her skin, if he pulled her into him. She remembered the longing they’d both felt over the past month. Part of her wanted, needed, the barrier to smash and for them to kiss, sweet and new and the most wonderful closure for the both of them.
But two lonely hearts don’t make a right. Instead of kissing, after a moment, they both stepped down and he said, ‘I’m glad I know the truth. But you know I need to back away.’
‘I know,’ August whispered back, trying to stop staring at his lips, because he was right, this was the right thing to do. But that didn’t stop him being quite yummy.
‘You’ve been lying to my mum, to everyone, for over half a year. Messing with their feelings. Callie adores you and calls you the ‘dream couple’. My mum trusted you with her house. I … I liked you and I felt awful for that, and for Flynn. And I do understand why you did it, but she’s still my mum. I know she can be stuck in her ways and old-fashioned, but she’s still my mum.’
August let his words sink in, agreeing with everything he said. She was his mum, of course he would be angry at anyone who wronged her.
‘Do you think if this had never happened you and I might have … ?’ They were still close, her hand on his arm, cherishing these soon-to-be-over moments.
He shook his head, and then swept his gaze over her lips, a parting ghost of a kiss in place of the real thing, before saying, ‘If that had never happened, then I wouldn’t have even known you, and I’m glad I do.’
August breathed him in, and finally let him go.
Stepping back, he transformed back into Abe Haverley, landlady’s son, though they let their fingertips linger against each other until the end.
Abe turned to walk the other way, and August began to make her way back to her home.
Tomorrow. It was time to tell Mrs Haverley, so she’d let the dust settle and tomorrow she’d ask Abe if Mrs H was well enough to hear the news, and then she and Flynn would go together.
She accepted it now: she was the villain here. Because of her own blinkered goals. Not Mrs Haverley for only wanting to rent to a married couple, not the other neighbours for nearly unearthing her secret, not Poppy for seeming to threaten to blow their cover, but her. August. She’d concocted a life of lies to people she truly liked and respected all to fulfil her own needs. She was the villain in her own story. Whatever happened now, there would be no more lies.
Chapter 85
Flynn
August and Flynn awoke at the same time in the middle of the night, sometime during the dark hours between Sunday and Monday, August upon hearing voices in the corridor outside the apartment, Flynn from the blue lights that flashed repetitively on the stree
t outside, illuminating his walls through the curtains.
They both came to their bedroom doors, their eyes meeting.
‘What’s happening out there?’ August asked Flynn, her voice scratchy from interrupted snores, one bed sock lost somewhere during a dream. She looked perfect.
Flynn moved to the living room and looked down, where the unmistakeable luminous yellow form of an ambulance was parked outside their home, its lights silently rotating. ‘There’s an ambulance here,’ he explained, though it didn’t offer much of an explanation.
August unlocked and opened their front door and stepped out, reaching the bannister and craning her neck up, following the sound of the voices.
Callie’s face appeared from the floor above, also looking upwards, and August called, ‘Callie? What’s going on? Is it Mrs Haverley?’
Callie looked down, revealing two large, charcoal, mask strips pasted to her under-eyes. ‘It must be,’ she replied, and looked back up.
Flynn appeared next to her, having covered up his bare torso with a sweatshirt. ‘I’ll go up and see if I can do anything. Maybe she’ll need a bag packed or something if they’re taking her to hospital.’
‘No, I should go,’ August began to protest, putting her hand on his chest, when she spotted Abe on the top landing. ‘Abe!’ she called.
He looked down, nodding at Callie, his worry lines softening just a touch at seeing August’s face. ‘Hi, August. Hello, Flynn.’
‘What’s going on? Is your mum okay?’
‘Um,’ he looked back towards his flat and there was the sound of footsteps and shuffling. ‘Not really. She’s got to go to hospital.’ With that, a stretcher emerged and two paramedics began descending the stairs with ever such a lot of care.
August gasped; though she and Flynn only caught a glance of Mrs Haverley’s face, it was long enough to notice that her eyes were closed, her mouth covered with an oxygen mask, the skin on her forehead smooth and unwrinkled.
Abe followed the stretcher down the staircase, distracted with worry, and didn’t look back at August or any of the other residents.
When the door closed behind them all, Flynn gently led August back into the flat, where she stood in the darkened living room, her hands to her mouth.
‘August?’ he pressed. ‘She’s going to be all right, she’s with the best people now.’
‘She just looked so small,’ August choked, and tears over-spilled. ‘I didn’t realise she’d got so much worse. She looked just like my grandma.’
Flynn held her, not being able to give answers, but just to be there for her.
Flynn slept crumpled on their small sofa with August in his arms, not closing his eyes until she’d finally dropped off. She’d twitched and murmured in her sleep (more than usual), and when she woke up she looked at him through tired, worried eyes.
‘I was dreaming of my gran,’ she explained, not bothering to untangle herself from Flynn. ‘She was laughing with Mrs H, with their feet in a stream, like in a picture she showed me. And I was floating away from them, like a leaf, and no matter how much I opened my mouth and tried to call, my grandma wouldn’t come and rescue me.’ She rubbed her eyes and looked up at Flynn, her face close, propped up on his chest. ‘Did you stay with me all night?’
‘Of course,’ he replied.
‘Did you sleep?’
‘Enough.’ He lingered for a moment, part of him not wanting to break this moment where she was so close to him that he could have counted her eyelashes. She breathed into him, and he into her, and for a moment he could almost feel their hearts searching for each other in the darkness. Eventually though, Flynn admitted to himself this wasn’t the right time and so he carefully moved her and asked, ‘Can I get you a tea?’
August nodded and reached for her phone. ‘I’ll text Abe to see if he’s okay, and if there’s any news.’
Chapter 86
August
August spent the next few days, and some of the nights, running her hands over the walls of the apartment, pacing the floors, and gazing from the windows at the frosty landscape beyond them. She was savouring the house and its memories in case it all came crashing down, but there was also another reason for these rituals. Showing Mrs Haverley’s home some love made her feel a little closer to her landlady.
Flynn, who still had a few days booked off work since he was meant to be in Japan until the middle of the week, stayed by her side, sensing the deep worry inside her, and sharing in her shame.
August kept in touch with Abe, just a few simple texts over the week, and eventually he contacted her one evening to say his mum was on the mend, suspected angina. She was remaining in hospital for now, but according to Abe, sparklier and more of ‘her usual, fierce self’.
Can I visit her? August replied.
She’d like that.
The following morning, August knocked on Flynn’s door.
‘Come in,’ he said, sounding sleepy, but he sat up in bed as soon as she came in. She climbed on his bed beside him now, without thinking, and only paused when she accidentally moved his duvet a little, revealing his bare chest.
‘Sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll speak to you when you’re up.’
Flynn reached out and touched her arm. ‘It’s fine, Aug, what’s up?’
‘I’m going to go and see Mrs Haverley today in the hospital.’
‘All right, do I have time to jump in the shower?’
‘No it’s okay, I’m going to go alone.’ August wished he wouldn’t mention him having a shower now, since she was trying to keep her mind on track. ‘If you don’t mind. It’s just that after everything, and her being in there, I don’t want to overwhelm her.’
‘But you’ve dealt with everything so far, let me take some of the weight.’
‘Do you fancy dinner tonight? Here I mean?’ she asked by way of reply. She realised she was longing to see him, be with him, talk with him properly like she’d barely done since he came home. She missed him. ‘It might be our last supper,’ she semi-joked.
‘Yes, leave it to me,’ he said, and smiled that smile.
There was a moment where they were silent, together, like a pendulum that could start swinging either way. Maybe it was the threat of their closeness ending, maybe it was the realisation they were about to be free to live again, but it made August’s skin tingle at his closeness.
She broke away. She had to stay focussed on the job at hand. After that … who knew what would happen.
August took the bus to the hospital and was in the ward soon after visiting hours began, directed by a nurse to the bed which Mrs Haverley occupied.
‘August!’ Mrs Haverley croaked, her eyes open but glassy, her upper body propped upright in the bed but a look of fatigue enveloping everything about her.
‘Hi, Mrs H,’ August said, sitting down beside her. She resisted the urge to pat her hand. Until she came clean, every movement felt like part of her lie.
‘Is Abe with you?’
‘No, I wanted to have a quick word with you on my own if that’s okay … ’
‘August, please tell me you’re here to take me home,’ Mrs Haverley grumped, but seeing as she was still hooked up to various machines, it was clear to August she was at least half-joking. That was a good thing, because that sparkle was back, her cheeks had some pink in them again.
‘You look well, Mrs H, how do you feel?’ August commented.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ asked Mrs Haverley in reply.
August blinked. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, why do you have the expression and complexion of someone who is about to regurgitate their breakfast upon the floor?’
This was quite accurate, because August felt like she might, in fact, do just that any second. It wasn’t so much a fear of being kicked out of the apartment on legal grounds, it was the shame of the lie, the backlash it might cause, the guilt. It was all of what was stewing inside and making her want to squeeze her eyes closed.
And so she did
. She took a deep breath, and did what she did best. Blurted it out before she could think about it any longer. ‘Mrs Haverley, I know this is awful timing, but if I may I’d like to tell you something about Flynn and me. We’ve not been entirely honest with you. We … ’
August steadied her breath, opening her eyes and gazing at the ceiling, at the one, two, three, four ceiling tiles overhead. And then at the five, six, seven, eight tiles over there to the right. And then at the nine—
‘Spit it out, girl, I don’t want to die here of boredom.’
Looking directly at Mrs Haverley, August said it. ‘I’m not married to Flynn. We aren’t married. To each other.’
‘Have you separated, darling?’
‘No, it’s not a divorce, because it was never a marriage.’ August paused and added, just to make it absolutely clear, ‘We lied to you, Mrs Haverley, and I’m sorry.’
Mrs Haverley took that in for a second. ‘You aren’t married, but you are a couple.’
‘No, we lied about all of it. I heard you, at the open house, telling Abe you only wanted to rent to a solid, dependable, married couple, and I wanted to live in that house so much, and Flynn needed somewhere to live because he’d just moved here from Japan, and we were selfish and entitled and instead of respecting your wishes we barrelled on ahead.’ Wow, it was flowing out of her now. And Mrs Haverley, whose gaze was unwavering, her mouth unsmiling, just lay there listening to it all.
So August continued rattling on. ‘We feel awful, Mrs H, and rightly so, because we lied to you and everyone in that building, just so we could get what we wanted. We see it now, both of us, and I’m sorry it took months for us to come clean – I think we actually both knew we should come clean some time ago, but we were scared you might kick us out – but when I really started to get to know you, and found out that you knew my grandma, that’s when … ’
Mrs Haverley sighed in thought as August trailed off. ‘All the hand holding … ’
‘Fake,’ August explained. ‘I mean, you know, we were holding each other’s hands, not like, mannequin hands, but it was fake in terms of the feeling behind it – you get it.’
