Covering the Lies

by Sofia Grey

  Nick hesitated, then went to say hello. Jordan hung back, pretending to retie his shoelace. Adele was good at her job and easy on the eye, but she had a hidden agenda, and he had yet to discover the details.

  His phone buzzed, giving him the opportunity to move outside to take the call. Adele smiled at him, blushing prettily, and Jordan understood. It was him she was interested in, not Nick. He went hot and cold all over when he recalled their conversations and her actions over the past two weeks. Invitations to play squash and to go clubbing. Baking brought in with him in mind. Drawn-out meetings, where the chat veered away from business matters.

  Idiot, he shouted to himself. Why didn’t he see this coming? The potential for embarrassment was huge.

  He tried to drag his attention back to his phone. “Hello.” He was sharp, realising belatedly that it was Alex.

  “Hey. I was returning your call. If it’s a bad time, no biggie.”

  “No. It’s fine.” Jordan stepped further outside, away from Adele’s eye line, and controlled his voice. “Kate thought you wanted to speak to me. Anything I can do?”

  Alex hesitated.

  Jordan heard a swishing sound in the background. “What’s that noise?”

  “The wipers on the car. It’s peeing down in Anglesey. Same old.” There was another pause. “I wanted to get in touch with Jon and Anita, but Kate gave me their number, so it’s all good. Thanks.”

  Jordan could tell from Alex’s flat voice that it was anything but good. “Is everything okay? I believe you’ve got Lara staying with you.”

  “Yeah, and that’s fine.” Alex sighed. “I can’t really say, but I’ve pissed off Sylvie big time. I’m heading home to eat a large slice of humble pie. Wish me luck.”

  “First big fight, huh?”

  “Yep. You could say that.” Alex sounded doleful.

  “First argument, first makeup. It can be good.” Kate and Jordan usually resolved their differences in bed, and he smiled at the thought, before dragging his attention back to the conversation.

  Alex huffed. “Knowing Sylvie, I’ll be lucky if I still have my bollocks by this time tomorrow. Hey, thanks for the call. If I’m singing falsetto when we get down under, you’ll know why.”

  Jordan snorted with laughter and finished the call. He turned back to find Nick, and saw him talking to the receptionist, leaning over the counter and looking at her screen.

  Adele, meanwhile, gazed at Jordan’s reflection in the glass door like a lovesick teenager.

  Holy Fuck. This had to stop.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sylvie’s head spun, her emotions bouncing across the spectrum from shock to hollow emptiness. She couldn’t stop thinking about Alex and that bloody email. She shivered, not from the evening chill, but from a growing sense of dread. Where did he go? Surely not down to London. He didn’t think he could just walk up and claim the child, like a piece of lost property?

  She paced up and down the lounge, breaking off to toss more wood onto the fire. Lara asked if she wanted anything to eat, but Sylvie wasn’t hungry. She needed to see Alex, to talk this crazy idea through with him. To make him see sense.

  There was a crunch of gravel and a flash of headlights against the curtains. Sylvie froze.

  “I’ll stay here,” said Lara. She grabbed the remote, switched the TV onto a random channel, and turned up the volume. This must be her way to give Sylvie and Alex some privacy for this difficult conversation.

  By the time Sylvie reached the front door, Alex had walked in and was shaking his head, wet with the rain. He gazed at her with a furrowed brow, and then pulled a bundle of flowers from behind his back. “Syl?” His voice was hopeful, but his eyes were wary. “I got these for you. I didn’t know which you liked best, so I got some of each.” It was a generous bouquet, saffron lilies jostling for space with pink roses and spiky green ferns. Where did he find flowers at this time of night? “I’m sorry, babe.” His voice was soft, and Sylvie’s anxiety melted.

  She closed the distance between them and reached up to kiss him. “You’ve changed your mind, then?” Thank God. He’d come to his senses. She snuggled against him, but he didn’t hold her back.

  “What do you mean?” He sounded puzzled.

  Were they talking at cross-purposes? “You’re not going ahead with the adoption? You just apologised.”

  “I apologised because I was rude to you and stormed off. Of course we are.”

  Frustration ignited in her chest, and she clenched her fists and stepped back, putting a space between them. With her chin high, she glared at him, trying hard not to shout again. “You don’t understand why I’m angry, do you?”

  He looked confused. “Are you going to tell me?”

  She could scream. He didn’t get it. “Take your pick. Because you just decided, without consulting me, to adopt a child who may or may not be a relative of yours. Because you decided we were going to start this, regardless of any concerns I have. Because it will be me who’ll have to look after it, part of the time. Because you wanted this, and you always get what you want. And I’m your frigging wife, but I obviously don’t count in the decisions that matter.”

  She charged on, before he could interrupt. “And if you think a bunch of bloody flowers is enough to make me change my mind, you’d better think again, Rock God.”

  Alex’s eyes flashed. He dumped the flowers on the floor and advanced towards her. “I told you, I’m not leaving him there, to grow up as a druggie, like his mother. I can give him a decent life. A good home.”

  “It’s all I, I, I. Not we.”

  “I, we—what’s the difference?”

  “It’s my life, too. We’re in this together.”

  Alex stopped. They stood nose to nose. “Don’t push me on this, Syl. I’m warning you.”

  “That’s lovely.” Sylvie prodded him in the chest with one finger. “You’re threatening me? Warning me about what? That you’re going to go off and do what you want? Again? When are you going to remember there are two of us now? Or don’t I count for the important things? Huh?” With each point she made, she poked his chest.

  He grabbed her hand firmly, but not enough to hurt. “For fuck’s sake, Sylvie. I thought you, of all people, would understand.”

  “Understand what?” She wriggled her hand free and folded her arms. She was trembling with rage.

  Alex ran a hand through his damp hair and stared at the ceiling, as though seeking inspiration. When he looked back at her, his face was calmer. “I love that you care about people. You care what happens to them. So I thought you would care about this poor, homeless child. The only thing that remains of my brother.” His voice was low. “I thought we do could this together. I thought you had a big enough heart to make room for him. I thought you loved me enough.”

  Her hackles went up at his last statement, and she erupted again. “Don’t twist this around. It’s not a matter of how much I love you. How dare you say that?”

  “Well, that’s how it looks from here.”

  They stared at each other for a long moment. Sylvie’s heart pounded like a bass drum in a parade. She clenched her fists tight, curling her fingers into the palms. She hated this. They were both hurting. “Okay.” She broke the silence. “Is there anything I can do, to change your mind about this adoption?”

  Alex shook his head. His gaze never left her face.

  She swallowed, her mouth dry. “Let’s clarify a few details. How soon are you planning to collect this child?”

  “As soon as I can.” He corrected himself. “As soon as we can.”

  “And all the stuff you need for a kid? I don’t mean a set of Lego and a Playstation. Are you going to go shopping for all that?”

  His face lit up briefly, and he dug inside his jacket pocket and produced a few sheets of paper. “I’ve got a list. Anita and Jon told me—”

  “Wait.” She held up a finger. “You’ve been talking to Jon and Anita about this?”

  “Ah... yes.” Alex looked a
wkward.

  “Anyone else? Let me guess. Jordan, perhaps? Kate, maybe?”

  His red flush gave her the answer. “You’ve talked to everyone else about this. Everyone but me.” Jesus. This was a slap in the face. “The one person you should have come to. Doesn’t that tell you something?”

  She turned around. She couldn’t bear to face him.

  Behind her, Alex cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Syl. You’re right. I shouldn’t have gone telling other people until we’d talked about it. I’m sorry. Okay?” His voice was stilted. She couldn’t tell if he was still angry.

  “Save it, Rock God. I’m not interested.” Sylvie blinked away the looming tears, lifted her head, and stalked back to the lounge.

  Lara was curled up on the sofa, a cushion in her arms. She sat up and gazed at Sylvie, her worry clear on her face. “I’d better go home tomorrow. You guys need some space.”

  Sylvie tried to laugh, but it came out as a sob. “Space is something we have plenty of. Too much of. We’re not as close as I thought.” And she saw no way to close the gap.

  ****

  Adele knew from Nick’s schedule that he’d be playing squash with Jordan. She wanted to see if things were improving with Lara, and if he was at a loose end, maybe they could have dinner again. She had to make more of an effort with her social life, but hanging out with Nick was the safe option. He wouldn’t hit on her, and they’d been friends for so long, he was easy company even when he was down. Maybe he could introduce her to some of his friends.

  He grinned when he saw her lurking at the reception desk. “Melda.” He gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Great timing. We can book our re-match while you’re here.”

  Nick smelled delicious, as usual, and for a moment, she luxuriated in the embrace. Over his shoulder, she saw the frown on Jordan’s face. He looked tired and irritable. Nick had mentioned Jordan was in a filthy mood. What was the matter?

  “So”—Nick stepped back—“we’re going for drinks tonight, if you want to join us.”

  Perfect. Yes hovered on the tip of her tongue, but then she looked at Jordan again. He tightened his jaw and glared at Nick. She didn’t need subtitles, to understand Jordan was pissed off by Nick’s friendly suggestion. The prospect of a lonely evening didn’t appeal, but it would be prudent to decline. “Not tonight, but thank you.” Yep. Jordan’s look of relief was clear. Adele had made the right decision.

  “Excuse me,” murmured Jordan, his phone to his ear, and Nick nodded.

  “Let’s book our next game.” Nick swept Adele to the counter, where he ran through the options with the receptionist. From there, Adele could see Jordan standing outside, deep in conversation. Everything she heard about him suggested that he locked down his emotions in the workplace, but these days he wasn’t doing that. If TM-Tech was struggling more than believed, he might be carrying the weight of the European operations on his shoulders. Nobody ever had a bad word to say about Jordan, and it was hard not to hero-worship him.

  She browsed the other gym options after Nick left, signed up for a couple of yoga classes, and then left, to head back to her apartment. The night was young, and she itched to do something. But what? The movies? Dinner for one was never any fun. She scrolled through her phone, searching for movie listings. She didn’t know where the nearest cinema was.

  “Adele?”

  She looked up at the familiar voice and saw Jason, casually dressed in jeans and a shirt, with a sport bag over his shoulder. His hair was damp and crinkled at the ends, and his grin was bright. “Got any plans for this evening?” His eyes twinkled when he spoke.

  “Hey,” she said. He looked happy to see her, unlike Jordan. Nick’s words echoed in her head. I think he’s interested. Should she give him a chance. “I’m just deciding what to do. Do you have anything in mind?”

  “How about a drink? I know a great pub that does live music.”

  It had to be better than staying in, so she agreed. The pub was miles away, but it was worth it. The music was loud and varied, and together they worked through a selection of the local craft beers between dances. Jason was good company, and like Nick, had access to excellent weed. They lurked on the car park and shared a spliff. He made it strong, and Adele took care not to inhale at the same rate as he did.

  Back in the pub, they drank some more, and when a group of his friends joined them, the evening took on a party atmosphere. By this time, she was completely chilled out. Jason’s friends were outrageously funny and treated her nicely as the only female in the group. Jason kept putting his hand on her knee, she kept removing it, and it turned into a silly game.

  By eleven, though, while she still had some of her wits about her, it was time to head back.

  Jason wanted to go on somewhere else. “Aww, come on,” he wheedled. “There’s a card game I want to join. You can be my lucky charm.”

  “It’s late,” she said.

  Jason shrugged. “Not even last orders yet. We’ll stay for an hour—no more. I’ll pick up the cab fare home.” He was difficult to resist.

  She’d had too much to drink for a work night, but she’d reached the stage where it was easier to go with the flow. Jason had to go to work in the morning too, so he couldn’t be planning to stay out all night.

  The hour stretched into two, and Adele dozed off, slumped in her chair. Jason was playing badly. they’d leave soon.

  Maybe not. It was close to three in the morning when she stumbled outside with him, yawning and shivering in the night air. The combination of alcohol and dope left her head aching, and her eyes itched with exhaustion. In contrast, Jason was bright eyed and wide awake. What else had he taken? Speed? Coke, perhaps? He was hyper as they walked to the nearest taxi rank.

  “Jason, some guys know how to give a girl a good night out.” Adele yawned so hard her jaw made a cracking noise. “This was not good. Please don’t ask me to watch you play cards again.”

  “I probably won’t be fucking playing.” He snapped the words out. “I got fucking cleaned out.” He hunched his head and walked along, his hands thrust deep into his pockets. “Shit.” He stopped, raised one arm and laid a punch into the nearest lamppost.

  There was a horrible crunching noise, and Jason snarled. “Shit,” he repeated.

  What the holy fuck? Adele blinked, speechless. Was she asleep and dreaming? No. Her feet hurt too much, and she was frozen in her thin jacket. This was real.

  Blood ran down his hand and spattered across his shirt and onto the ground. He stared at the wound, as though perplexed as to why he was bleeding.

  “Why the hell did you do that?” Adele dug into her bag for a tissue.

  He shrugged, oblivious to the mess. “Do I get a consolation prize? A kiss?”

  Her heart raced. This was beyond scary. She was in the middle of nowhere with an out-of-control guy she didn’t know well. Not her best idea. He was her colleague, though, and he’d been good to her for most of the evening. She wrapped the tissue around his knuckles. “You’re joking. Right?”

  “Yeah, I suppose.” His mood was sombre now, his anger gone. He let Adele lead him into a cab, where he sat staring out of the window.

  She was confused. “You okay, Jase? We’re nearly at our building.”

  “Yeah.” He turned to face her and grinned, as though the events of the past few hours hadn’t happened. “Good night out, eh? Let’s do it again some time. You’re a blast.”

  She was glad to get into her apartment, and checked that the door was locked behind her. This was weird. Very weird. That was the last time she went anywhere alone with Jason.

  ****

  Alex sought refuge in the studio. With the door closed, the soundproofing ensured he could play as loud as he wanted without fear of disturbing anyone in the house. He was hurt at Sylvie’s reaction. Where was her compassion? She normally cared so much. This side of her worried him. He was freaking out at the prospect of imminent fatherhood, and he needed her support.

  He fiddled with
the amp settings and connected a distortion pedal. Yeah, this was the grungy, angry sound that matched his mood. He hammered out a series of power chords, letting the emotions flow through him.

  Could it be that Sylvie was scared too? When couples had babies, they had months to get used to the idea. If he managed to push this adoption through, little Callum could be here in a matter of weeks.

  Alex could make this work. He would make it work. And somehow he’d bring Sylvie on board, too.

  Inspiration struck at the most unlikely times, and the random chords showed promise of a new song. It was enough of a distraction to keep him busy for a couple of hours, recording riffs and a funky lead break.

  Tiredness hit, and he leaned back in his studio chair. Sylvie wouldn’t welcome him in their bed tonight. The studio door banging woke him with a start, and he sat up, confused.

  It was Sylvie, pale faced and anxious, and tears drying on her cheeks.

  “Syl?” He was concerned. She hurled herself into his arms and nestled against his chest. She was shivering, wearing only a long T-shirt, her feet bare as usual. Alex lifted them and rubbed them, holding her firmly on his lap as he waited for her to speak.

  “Come to bed, please, Alex. I don’t like sleeping without you.”

  It was an olive branch of sorts. “You’ve been crying, babe.” He wiped under her eyes with one finger, and she gave him a watery smile.

  “I had another bad dream.”

  It came out as a whisper, and his blood chilled. Last year, Sylvie dreamed of Rico’s death, in way too much detail, for a week before it happened. It drove her almost insane with worry.

  “What did you dream about this time?” Alex asked.

  Sylvie snuggled against him, resting her palms on his chest. She must have been able to feel the way his heart raced.

  “I don’t remember. But I woke up and knew I needed you.” She raised her face and met his gaze.