Waiting For Milo: THE WAITE FAMILY - BOOK ONE

by Devlin, Angel

“No. Not anymore. My divorce came through a month ago.” She looked at her own hand. “I didn't take the ring off until it was completely over. Stupid, hey?”

  “I guess you didn't want it to be over then?”

  “It's complicated.”

  “Sorry. I shouldn't have asked.”

  “Don't do that, Milo.”

  “What?”

  “Say sorry for being a nosy git when you've practically moved yourself into my house or me into yours after a few hours of knowing you. Don't apologise for being you.”

  I was desperate to know her past so I could claim her future, but I guessed now was the time to leave her alone. So I ate my own burger and chatted about my building work.

  As soon as we’d finished eating, Vi picked up her bag. “My delivery is coming soon. I’d better get back.”

  “Okay, I’ll walk you home.”

  That earned me an eye-roll.

  We walked back to her house as I could cut through her garden to get to my own.

  “You were right,” she said.

  “Huh?”

  “I did buy this house to come home. My happiest memories are here. I hope my getting the house is a good omen for happier times ahead.”

  “I've got a feeling you're onto something there.” I told her, managing to restrain myself from telling her it was because I was here.

  “I feel safer knowing you lot are across the garden. Thank you.”

  “It's no problem. But you can be even safer if you stay at ours for the night, until we get you a couple of rooms habitable tomorrow.”

  “Your offer is very kind, but I do want to get to that kitchen. It’s disgusting and I'm going to work as late as I can getting the tar off and then collapse in a heap on my new bed.”

  We'd reached her house. She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “Rapunzel is all grown up now. She doesn't need a prince. Doesn't need rescuing. She's got this.”

  Then she walked into her house.

  I held my fingers over where her lips had brushed my cheek and feeling a heavy sensation in my chest from the dismissal, I headed home to have a couple more pints.

  Violet

  I felt like I couldn't breathe and it wasn’t due to the humidity. It was the proximity of Milo. How could I become so attached to someone in only a few hours? I didn't want to explain my past to him because I was sure that would be the last I saw of him. I didn't want to see that disappointment in his eyes when I confessed I was just my mother's daughter. That what I did in my marriage was unforgivable and that I still wore my ring like a penance. To remind me of how far I'd fallen. Right until my divorce came through a month ago, when I'd removed it and buried it in the garden of the rental home I’d left behind. To stay in my past, because I had to move on. My counsellor told me I was ready.

  With rubber gloves on, I scrubbed my frustrations out on the kitchen cupboards. The brown grime that slid down them as I sprayed the sugar soap made me want to vomit. The water in the bucket looked like builder’s strength tea. It was hard work: emptying, refilling, spraying, re-wiping. I finally finished in the early hours of the morning. I was exhausted. My goods had arrived at a little after nine pm and the flat pack containing my bedframe was against the front window with the mattress, wrapped in plastic, stacked on the top.

  The fridge freezer was in place in the kitchen. One bright, shiny new thing among a sea of detritus. It gave me hope. Along with the newly washed down kitchen cupboards, and the view of a garden not a jungle, there was a semblance of normality in this one room. It was already my favourite room in the house. Tomorrow I would go out and buy a kitchen table and a couple of chairs. There were some charity shops nearby that sold furniture. With some effort, I pulled the mattress down. I dragged it onto the floor and laid a large towel across it. Then I flung myself on the top of it and I was out within minutes.

  I woke to the sound of something falling over and shot up with a jolt. What the hell was that? I turned my head towards the sound. Was there someone in the kitchen? Don't tell me Milo was here again? For fuck’s sake. I looked around me. The only weapon I had available to me was my handbag. In it I had an attack alarm. I prayed to God that I didn't need it. My phone showed me it was just after four am. I'd only been asleep an hour. Why would Milo come around at this time?

  With my mouth dry and heart beating fast and with 999 keyed into my phone, I stepped into the hallway and saw my empty Coke bottle fall onto the floor in the kitchen.

  Screaming, I pressed the button on the attack alarm. Its screech attacked my ears. It also shocked the cat who jumped down off the sink, shooting out of the open window. I’d never closed it. Not surprising as I was exhausted, but how could I have been so stupid? Anyone could have got in. I sat back down on my mattress feeling like my heart was going to burst through my chest. I grabbed my notepad and wrote ‘burglar alarm’ on it. Top priority. I needed to feel safe here. I needed an electrician after all. I’d also ask Milo if he could by any chance change the locks for me tomorrow and I’d ask him how much it would cost to get new keys for the window locks.

  In shock I found myself weeping and then berated myself for being so pathetic. What had I said to Milo just a few short hours ago? I could do this myself. But I didn't want to right now. I wanted to confide in someone that I wasn’t as brave as I was making out to be and that living alone, being single, was the scariest thing I'd ever done. I’d been nervous in my rental, but here in this rundown house with its strange noises, I was even more on edge. There was only one person I felt wouldn’t judge me for being pathetic, so with my keys in my hand, I locked the side door behind me and I ran as fast as I could over the garden. The Waites’ automatic outside light came on, another thing I mentally took note of as needing, and their kitchen blind moved to one side. He'd seen me.

  As he opened their back door I more or less threw myself straight into his arms.

  “Can I stay here for a few hours?”

  After saying what had panicked me, I found myself on the Waite family corner sofa with a cup of tea in my hand. Milo had insisted. Even with a drink, my mouth was still dry. Though I’d explained the cat, I’d decided against confessing that I felt so alone. Milo picked up the woollen throw from one of the chairs in the room and tucked it around my shoulders. The sofa was huge, but then I guessed in a house with so many adults you needed a lot of seating.

  “You feeling a bit calmer now?”

  “A little. I'm sorry to have disturbed you.”

  “You didn't disturb me. I've been keeping a lookout.”

  “What?”

  “I set the alarm on my phone so I could keep checking from here that you were okay. All because you were too bloody stubborn to stay over here in the first place. We could have had a good night’s sleep ready to start afresh on your house in the morning, but no, you had to go all independent woman and keep us both awake.”

  My shoulders slumped. He nudged me with his own.

  “I'm joking, Princess. Well, half joking. You stay here until we have you more secure. I’ll get your locks done tomorrow for definite. I’m sorry I didn’t do it yesterday now.”

  “You have nothing to apologise for. I don’t know what I’d have done without you to be honest.”

  I yawned. A yawn so wide that it felt like I'd pulled a muscle in my throat and a tear fell from my eye. Milo scooted in at the side of me. He was wedged between the sofa arm and my body. He took my cup from me and placed it on the coffee table and pulled me against his arm.

  “Put your head there and sleep,” he commanded.

  I was too tired to call him a Neanderthal again, and did what he said.

  “Well, well, what do we have here?”

  I opened an eye and closed it again trying to think of where I was and why a middle-aged guy would be standing in front of me dressed in a towelling robe over pyjamas. I half opened it again, trying to make it look like it wasn’t open so I could see if he was still there or whether I’d dreamed him up. No, dark hair and a mous
tache, pale skin, and a face expecting an answer. I sat up as realisation dawned and I shook Milo's shoulder.

  “Milo.”

  Milo took forever to stir, possibly due to not getting many hours sleep. I gave up and stood up holding my hand out. “I'm guessing you're Mr Waite? I'm Violet Blake. Owner of the house across the garden.”

  He shook my hand.

  “And you know Milo?”

  “Yes. Well, only since yesterday afternoon.”

  Mr Waite's eyes widened.

  “When your sons came to give me estimates. The house is a mess. A huge mess. Anyway, I thought there was a burglar last night, but it was a cat, and well, I ran over here in a panic.”

  “Oh dear. Was it black, fluffy?”

  I nodded.

  “I’m guessing that was our cat, Jasper. Sorry, he’s always on the lookout for food.”

  “That’s okay. I shouldn’t have left the window open.”

  “So I'm Joshua. But you can call me Josh. Definitely do not call me Mr Waite. I have a hard enough time looking at this lot and not feeling as old as the hills anyway.”

  “I think you look really good for however old you are,” I blurted, then I blushed.

  He laughed. “Thanks. I'm fixing breakfast. Saturdays we usually all have a good cooked one before we start. You staying?”

  My stomach rumbled at the thought of bacon and eggs. “Yes please. If you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. I’m sure I won’t even notice an extra mouth at our full table. If you could be trying to wake Milo up while I cook I’d be grateful. After the breakfast we have a family summit of what work we have in for the week. Looks like you may as well stay for that too and we'll get you scheduled in.”

  Josh left the room.

  I sat back on the sofa and closed my eyes for a minute. As Milo was still fast asleep at the side of me, I allowed myself a few moments to attempt to gather myself together. It was hard because the lack of sleep made me feel hungover. I needed a moment alone though, even if it was only a precious couple of minutes. Time to focus on what I needed to do today without Milo's excitement coming at me like a new puppy steamrollering me. For a start I'd like to introduce myself to both my neighbours on either side. I'd not seen any of them yet, but there was the house that joined mine to the right facing and then at the other side the house was on just the slightest drop to my own. When I was little I used to look over the wall and talk to Nan's neighbour, Carol. She was an elderly lady then, with a tiny little dog. She'd also have passed I should imagine. But yes, I needed to introduce myself to the neighbours and apologise for the noise that they were going to have to hear while I got my house in order.

  Given I had a lemon-yellow bathroom with a very old shower in it and had no idea if it worked, I decided not to be stupid, and ask if I could shower here after breakfast, though I'd probably have to join a queue. Hopefully Milo could help me sort the bedroom floor out today so I could get my bed set up. I'd need to involve Finn because there would be pipes to be run through for the central heating. I sighed. This was how it was going to be. Not being able to complete any rooms because of the other things that needed doing in the house. I drew my mind back to the kitchen. If I could get a carpet cleaner today, I could work on the carpet. So, back to the house. Look at carpet cleaners. Work on the kitchen. Maybe start painting it? That way I'd be out of Milo's way, but in shouting reach if he wanted a cup of tea or any help with anything. Huh, didn't Girl Friday's get Saturday off?

  I turned to Milo and pushed his shoulder again and shouted his name. His eyes opened and he saw me and winked. “That's the way a guy wants to wake up in a morning. Greeted by a cracking babe. Shame you’re not naked though.”

  I got his legs and pulled him off the sofa so he hit the floor with an unceremonious thud.

  “Ow. What'd ya do that for?” He rubbed his butt as he began to stand up.

  “Bringing you back down to earth, Miley. Now come on, your dad's doing breakfast.”

  “You met my dad?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Just I've never brought a girl back before, so he probably took your photo, ready to share it in the local newspaper under the headline ‘Alien abduction in Willowfield’.”

  “I told him why I was here. About the cat intruder and being shaken up. He knows I wasn't here like that.”

  “More's the pity,” Milo grumbled under his breath. I totally pretended I’d not heard him.

  I’d admit to smiling inwardly when he said he'd never brought a girl home before. Stop it, Vi. After my marriage, I was better off alone, no matter how nice Milo seemed. Jay was lovely at first and look how that had worked out. No, I needed to concentrate on my home right now. I didn’t need romantic complications.

  “So how come you didn’t tell me you had a cat that liked prowling for scraps?”

  Milo shrugged. “Never crossed my mind. I was too happy I had got my way and had Violet Blake in my arms.”

  I groaned, and it did cross my mind as to whether Milo had let the bloody cat out in the first place.

  Milo

  I guided Vi into the dining room. As she walked from the lounge and followed me you could see her taking it all in. Our house was a little overwhelming, being two semi-detached houses made into one large house. It was my father’s first real project back in the day, having worked with his own father. Grandad Phil taught my dad all he knew, but Grandad never had the inclination to start a business like Dad did, and luckily for him, we all wanted to follow suit. We were made for ‘hands on’ work and being outside as much as possible.

  So what Vi was seeing now was basically what her house would look like if she knocked through to her own neighbour’s home. Walls had been altered and shifted where possible so that we had a large living room, a separate dining room, and the kitchen. Upstairs were six bedrooms and two bathrooms. When Juliet was born, rooms were moved round so that I shared one of the larger rooms with Cal. When Ezra moved out, Cal moved into his. It was like Ezra had never lived here. If he ever visited, he always stayed in hotels. It was like we were no longer good enough for him.

  On a Saturday morning, the table could usually be found set for six. However, this morning there was an extra place setting for our guest. The smell of coffee and a cooked breakfast assaulted my nose as I walked in. God, I was hungry. I slapped my dad on the back as I walk past him and switched the kettle on. “Cuppa, right?” I asked Vi.

  “Yes please. Medium with a splash of milk.”

  My dad looked over his shoulder at Vi and made a face as if I'd turned into an alien. She giggled.

  “Shut up, Dad. I've made you a cup of tea before now.”

  “Yes, Father's Day 2006.”

  I ignored him.

  There was toast already on the table and Vi was told to help herself. After asking if she could help with anything, I showed her where we kept the glasses and pointing to the fridge, I asked her to pour five orange juices, whatever she wanted, and an apple juice. The apple juice was for Jules.

  “She always has to be different.”

  “Heard that, Miley.” Talk of the Devil, my sister walked through the door. Medium build, medium height, there was nothing else average about Juliet Waite. Her bright blue hair was buzz cut at one side and hung in a bob at the other. She had several earrings threaded through her exposed ear and a stud above her lip. A tattoo of ivy ran from under her ear, down her neck and across the top of her chest. Today’s choice of clothes: black jeans and a Placebo tour vest revealed a further tattooed arm of flowers, and the grim reaper.

  She looked at me and nodded at Vi, “Who's dumbstruck Barbie? Which toy shop did we get her from?”

  Vi flinched for a minute and then I visibly saw her gather herself together. She walked over to Jules handing her a glass of apple juice. “Nice to see you again, Jules. Though you were a damn sight more polite when you were seven. Here, I've made it from poisoned apples especially for you.”

  Jules stared at Vi. My sister's brown
eyes were so dark that it was quite unnerving when she fixed her gaze on you. She didn't recognise Vi and the statement about being seven had stiffened my sister’s shoulders, as that age was now solely connected with the departure of our mother.

  She turned back to me, seeking answers through the look she gave me.

  “Rapunzel has returned to the tower.” I told her.

  Jules turned back to Vi so quickly I was surprised her head didn't snap off.

  “No. Fucking. Way.”

  “Juliet!” Admonished my dad, though it was only for Vi's benefit because we all gave up trying to get Jules to behave a long time ago.

  To Vi's, and to be honest, mine and Dad's surprise, Jules threw her arms around her and hugged her. “Oh my god, Rapunzel. You're back.” She rubbed her buzzcut and shook her head. “How?”

  “Simple,” replied Vi. “I bought the Tower.”

  “Who's Rapunzel?” said our father, laughing at a joke he didn't understand.

  “Flipping ‘eck. Dad,” said Jules. “Remember Marj's granddaughter, Violet?”

  Dad’s eyes lasered Vi's. His chin set taut.

  “Get out of my house. NOW.”

  He quite simply lost it, in spectacular fashion. He turned away from Vi and the spatula from his hand flew through the air hitting the wall. He turned to me, “Milo, get that girl out of my house.”

  Jules looked from her father to Vi.

  “Dad, what's wrong?”

  Vi ran from the room, Jules behind her. I desperately wanted to run after her, but first I needed to know why my father had taken leave of his senses.

  As Vi left and the door slammed shut, he broke. That was the only word I could use to describe seeing my strong father crumple in a heap to the floor. His head in his hands.

  “Shit.” He said. “I'm sorry, Milo. Christ, I'll have scared that girl to death.”

  “What the hell’s going on, Dad? You're freaking me out here.”

  He rubbed his eye. “Your Mum. When she took off. She left with Violet's uncle.”