by Shari Low
Her answer was to grab his hand with more force than he knew she possessed and pull him into the doorway of the gift shop they were now standing outside.
‘Celeste, what the hell…?’
Now that they were out of sight of anyone else in the street, she finally answered him. ‘It’s… it’s… complicated.’
‘What is?’ Mitchell was beginning to wonder if she’d slipped something into her drink.
‘The guy. Back there. With Aggs.’
Mitchell peered back out into the street, and yes, the man was still there. He and Aggs were sitting at a table now and appeared to be in deep discussion, completely oblivious to the rest of the world.
Mitchell ducked back in. ‘Yeah, he’s still there. Who is he?’
‘That’s… that’s Aaron.’
Mitchell flicked back through the floppy disk of his mind. Aaron. The only person of that name Aggs had ever mentioned was an ex-boyfriend, a guy in the USA that she’d had a relationship with. She’d never shared all the details, and to be honest, Mitchell hadn’t wanted to know. What she’d done before they met was irrelevant to him.
There was the sound of a car door opening and closing, and then another one doing the same.
‘Did Aggs get into the car with him? Have they left?’
This was the most irrational he’d ever seen his wife. Why would she think that Aggs would leave her own party? That would be ridiculous.
Mitchell peered around the corner again. ‘No. Two girls are sitting with them now. About the same age as Isla and Skye, maybe? It’s hard to tell.’
Celeste lurched. For a moment he thought she was going to faint and he prepared to catch her, but instead, she stepped out of the doorway. She watched what was going on for a few seconds, then stepped back in, put both hands against the slate tile of the entranceway and fought to control her breathing.
‘Celeste,’ he tried again, getting seriously worried now. ‘Is this a panic attack? Do I need to call an ambulance?’
Her head was shaking violently and he watched, dumbstruck, as she tried to regulate her gasps for breath. All thoughts of that muppet, Derek Evans, and his wife’s affair were gone now as he tried to deal with what was going on here. One crisis at a time was all he could handle.
‘The girl…’ That was all Celeste said and it came out as a strangled cry.
‘What about her?’
‘Mitch, it can’t be, it can’t be her…’
‘It can’t be who?’
She began to mumble, almost to herself now. ‘Give me a minute, let me think. Let me think.’
For thirty or forty seconds, she paced back and forward in the tiny space, Mitchell letting her work out whatever she was doing, completely at a loss as to what he should say. Eventually, she stopped, and as if some silent decision had been made, she took a breath, pulled back her shoulders and transformed back into Celeste again.
‘Fuck it,’ she hissed, before stepping out of the doorway.
There was a couple walking some kind of large wolfhound along the street in front of them, shielding their view, but there was no mistaking where Celeste was headed. She strutted back towards the table where the four people sat, Mitchell following just behind, still trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
Aggs and her visitors were so deep in conversation that they didn’t even notice their arrival until they were almost next to them. Only then did Mitchell hear snippets of the conversation.
‘… and I’ve never put a child up for adoption. I’m not your mother,’ Aggs was saying. What the hell?
One of the young women – he could see now that she definitely was in her early twenties – was speaking to the guy now. ‘Aaron? I don’t understand. If Agnetha isn’t my mother, then who is?’
‘I think I know the answer to that,’ he heard Celeste say.
Shock turned the guy’s head around so fast Mitchell was fairly sure he’d be left with whiplash.
‘Celeste?’
Mitchell heard the American accent. Yep, definitely must be the bloke that Aggs had dated before they met.
He made eye contact with his ex-wife and saw that this wasn’t some kind of happy reunion. She looked aghast. Stunned. Shocked. And when she spoke, her voice had an exhausted resignation to it.
‘You two had better pull up a couple of chairs.’
Mitchell grabbed two seats from the other table and swung them round.
Just at that, a group of about eight or ten women emerged from the café. ‘Aggs, we’re off now,’ one chirped. ‘Thank you so much,’ another said, slightly slurred. ‘Best Menopausal Jogging Club meeting we’ve had for ages!’
Aggs aside, everyone who was seated stayed that way, saying nothing, while each of the women, oblivious to the solemn atmosphere, hugged Aggs in turn. They then tottered off down the street, one of them bursting into the chorus of Wet Wet Wet’s ‘Angel Eyes’, which the others then joined in with.
‘This is the craziest night of my life,’ the darker-haired of the two girls at the table couldn’t hide her astonishment.
Mitchell was getting exasperated. What the hell was going on and why was no one explaining this to him?
As if she could read his mind, Aggs spoke up first. ‘Celeste, this is Hope. And this is Maisie, her sister. Hope was adopted when she was a baby and only found out recently that she’s Aaron’s daughter.’
Mitchell was confused. What did any of this have to do with Celeste?
Aggs continued with the introductions. ‘Hope, this is Celeste. We used to be friends. Best friends, actually. We grew up together and Celeste was part of our family.’
Celeste’s eyes blazed, but surprisingly she said nothing.
‘Celeste was with me in Los Angeles and then in Las Vegas when I was seeing your dad. She was dating his friend, Zac. On the night I left, I’m guessing the dynamics of those relationships changed.’ Her meaning was unmistakable.
‘I’m so sorry,’ the American bloke was saying now. Mitchell wasn’t sure if that was directed at Aggs or Hope, but it was the young woman who reacted first.
‘Wait a minute,’ she blurted, staring at Celeste now. ‘So, you’re my mother?’
Whaaaaaat? No. Couldn’t be. Mitchell’s heart was hammering, but even as he searched his wife’s reaction for answers, he could see that Hope had called it right. Their eyes were different. The colouring too. But there was something in the shape of her face, in the way she raised her chin, that Mitchell knew, without a doubt, this was Celeste’s child.
‘Why didn’t you ever tell me?’ he blurted, realising that Celeste still hadn’t spoken.
‘Mitchell,’ Aggs reprimanded him softly, and he immediately saw why. His questions didn’t get priority here. That went to the girl he now knew was his… what? Jesus, he had a stepdaughter.
Finally, Celeste spoke, ‘Yes, I think I am.’
Aggs’ head fell into her hands, but to her credit she said nothing.
‘Christ, Celeste, how did that happen?’ Aaron pleaded, before Mitchell had a chance to jump in with a similar question. All these years and she’d never once mentioned having a child.
Celeste’s eyes flared, challenging him. ‘Do you want me to draw you a diagram?’
This time, Mitchell stepped in, before tempers got even more frayed. He was a lawyer. De-escalating situations, getting to the root of issues, and establishing the background to complex problems were his speciality areas and he could see that they were all needed now. ‘Aaron, I’m Mitchell. I’m Celeste’s husband. And I’m actually Aggs’ ex-husband too.’
‘Woah!’ cried Maisie. ‘You have got to be kidding me. Let me get this straight. You were married to Agnetha, and now you’re married to her friend.’ That was addressed to Mitchell. Then she flipped her attention to Aaron. ‘And you dated Agnetha, but then… then… made Hope with her friend.’ Her gaze went to Aggs next. ‘You really need to get new friends.’
‘Already done,’ Aggs said quietly, and Mitchell tried not t
o squirm with the embarrassment of complete strangers no doubt concluding that he was a complete prick. Thankfully the heat was elsewhere, so he stayed quiet.
‘I need you to tell me what happened,’ Hope was asking her father now, ‘because I honestly don’t understand all this. It’s too much…’
Aaron sighed, and Mitchell watched him slump. If this was a witness, Mitchell would pull him from the stand right now because the guy looked as if he was one tough question away from breaking.
‘I need to be honest, Aggs,’ Aaron said to her. ‘But before I say this, I want you to know I’m sorry.’
Aggs nodded, and despite how much this must be killing her, she gave a resigned sigh. ‘Go right ahead.’
Celeste had dipped her head and had her hand over her eyes now, as if she couldn’t stand to watch the truth unfolding. That was out of character for his wife. Her standard MO was to pull her shoulders back and remain defiant in the face of adversity. Whatever was coming next had to be seriously messed up if it was defeating her.
Aaron was still holding his daughter’s hand. ‘It’s just as I told you earlier, Hope. Agnetha and I were supposed to get married in Vegas, but she didn’t show up. She changed her mind.’
‘You mean, Aggs didn’t show up, as in jilted you at the altar?’ Mitchell heard his own voice asking that question, and it came from a place of complete disbelief. That wasn’t Aggs’ style. Absolutely no way. If she’d done that, he’d have heard about it. This American bloke was either mistaken or lying or… The thought was derailed by the sound of Celeste wincing, just as Aggs spoke up, clearly agitated.
‘I didn’t change my mind. I got a phone call to say my dad was seriously ill and had been rushed to hospital. Turns out he’d had a stroke. Anyway, I had to get home straight away. Celeste knew that and she…’ Aggs stopped, staring at Celeste, at the truth that was written all over his wife’s beautifully twisted face. ‘You didn’t tell him that, did you? You lied. You let him think I’d run out on him?’
‘What does it matter now?’ Celeste muttered.
‘Christ on a bike.’ That came from Maisie.
Aggs jumped right in there. ‘It matters, Celeste!’
The sharpness of Agnetha’s tone ignited a flare in his wife and she immediately switched back to her usual form, going on the defensive, flipping it around and turning it into an attack. ‘I did you a favour. You could never have lived there. You couldn’t have stayed away from your mum and dad and this…’ she gestured to the café behind them. ‘You were about to make the biggest mistake of your life and I saw that and I saved you from it.’
‘You lied to me.’ That came from Aaron. And it wasn’t a question.
‘I didn’t see you complaining,’ Celeste bit back.
He shook his head. ‘You know that’s not true, Celeste.’ That’s when, like a slow motion bomb exploding in an action movie, Mitchell could see all too clearly what was coming. Fuck. But before he could ask the question and confirm his fears, he was interrupted.
‘What about me?’ Hope cut their conversation off. ‘Was I the biggest mistake of your life?’ she challenged Celeste, who didn’t answer, so she pressed on. ‘I need to know what happened. All of it. And I need to know why.’
She wasn’t the only one, Mitchell thought, but he, and everyone else, left Hope’s question hanging, all of them staring at one woman.
The silence was excruciating, but Hope didn’t back down, just kept her gaze fixed on her mother until eventually Celeste began to speak.
31
Agnetha and Celeste – 1997
Celeste had lost count of how many shots the extremely attractive bartender had served up to them in the last few hours. He’d already told her that he got off at 2 a.m., but even if she’d been interested – which she absolutely wasn’t – he was wasting his time on two counts. First, it was only 11 p.m., but already her head was spinning and there was no way she could carry on drinking for much longer. And secondly, she had other, far more important things on her mind than a one night stand with a crazy-gorgeous barman.
‘I think I’m drunk,’ she whistled.
Beside her, Aaron raised his refilled shot glass, clinked it against hers and they knocked them back in practised synchronicity. ‘Only way to be.’
She’d thought he was already tipsy when she’d first reached the bar, but he was on a whole other level of wasted now. Three solid hours of shots and heartbreak. This was the kind of stuff they wrote country songs about.
The catalyst for his over-consumption of tequila had come just after she’d joined him, when he’d asked mournfully, ‘Do you honestly believe she won’t come back?’
‘She won’t, Aaron. I’m sorry. You need to accept it.’
Of course, that wasn’t true. As cynical as Celeste was, she could see that Agnetha had been hopelessly in love with this man. It wouldn’t surprise her in the least if she was straight back over here as soon as her dad was feeling better. That’s why she had to carry this through.
Either the tequila was turning her stomach, or it was a grip of dread over how she’d played this. If Aggs spoke to Aaron, then she’d find out that Celeste hadn’t been entirely truthful. And where would that leave their friendship? She’d never forgive her. No, Celeste had to make sure that Aaron would never speak to Aggs again. Once again, she reminded herself that it was for her friend’s own good. This wasn’t the life for her. Aggs should be living with Celeste in London, having a great time and travelling the world, not tying herself down at the age of twenty-three.
Celeste had run through a stack of possible scenarios in her head. She could have told Aaron that Aggs was going back to an ex. She could have said that Aggs had realised he was just a holiday fling. But both those strategies came with the real possibility that Aaron would fly to Scotland to try to win her back.
As for the other side of it… She had to find a way to make sure that when Aggs landed in Scotland and called Aaron, that he wouldn’t take the call. It would be tough for Aggs to let him go, but Celeste would help that along. She’d convince her that the best thing for her was to forget she’d ever met him. It was the only way. But handling Aggs’ reaction to it all was a problem for later. Right now, she had to make sure there was no going back for Aaron.
‘Do you think she’ll come back to me?’ Aaron was asking her again now, three hours into their tequila session.
For Christ’s sake, that was at least the third time tonight. Her answer wasn’t going to change.
‘Two more shots, Blaize,’ she shouted to the barman. ‘And no, Aaron. You need to forget her.’
‘How can I forget her? Don’t you get it? I love her.’
Jesus, this was going to go on all night. He’d morphed from a young, sexy, cool guy into a fairly pathetic, heartbroken drunk who kept repeating himself and who was getting more morose with every passing minute. It wasn’t a good look on him.
Two more shots and half an hour later, he was swaying and in danger of falling off his stool. Celeste had always prided herself on her ability to drink any man under the table, but she recognised that she was dangerously close to her limit. Time to call this a day. Sorrows drowned. Time to close this down permanently.
‘Look, why don’t we call it a night, huh? We can go upstairs, put the TV on.’
‘Will she be there?’ he asked, completely senselessly.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. He was the worst drunk and this was the worst drunken night ever.
‘No, she won’t be there, Aaron. She’s gone. She’ll be halfway across the Atlantic by now. Come on. Let’s go.’
‘Nope, not going. Tequila.’
Behind the bar, Blaize had overheard the conversation and seemed to be in agreement. ‘I think the lady is right, buddy. I can’t serve you any more drinks. You’re already way over our limit.’
‘Thank you,’ Celeste mouthed to him, and he replied with a surreptitious wink.
‘Tell you what, there’s a bottle of tequila up in the minibar. How abo
ut we go and finish that?’
Bingo. That got his attention. He lurched off the bar stool and she caught him before he fell.
‘I’m okay, I’m okay,’ he insisted, in that wasted way that absolutely confirmed he was anything but okay.
‘I know you are, tiger. Let’s just keep it moving. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.’
Now that she had him on his feet, she made an executive decision. He had to walk this off a bit, sober up just enough so that she wasn’t worried he’d vomit in his sleep and choke to death. There were many things her conscience could live with, but she drew the line there.
Arm through his, she coaxed him to take a detour round the hotel, out on to the pool deck for some fresh air, eventually reaching the room about half an hour later, by which time, he was once again capable of coherent speech. He’d also gone almost an hour without asking if Aggs was going to come bloody back. Another win.
In his room, the first thing she did was check the phone for a red flashing light that would indicate a message. There wasn’t one. Excellent. Aggs would be on the plane from LA to Heathrow right now, so she was safe for the next ten hours or so. Relieved, she poured Aaron a glass of water, while he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his shoes, then unbuttoned his shirt.
As Celeste slid the curtains closed, she felt her eyes drawn to the curve of his shoulders, and the perfectly parallel ridges of his abs. For the second time today, she mused that Zac had been the perfect personality for her – in all honesty, Aaron would have bored her to death. But when it came to the physical side of the attraction equation, Aaron had exactly the kind of body that turned her on – tall, fit, athletic and muscular. From the neck down, he could be the body twin of Mr UCLA from the pool hook-up earlier. A flashback to that interlude combined with the tequila to give her a shiver of excitement.
Aaron drank the water, then stood up and unbuttoned his trousers, shoving them down, then kicking them off. There was nothing provocative there. They’d lived in the same apartment for weeks, so they were used to seeing each other in their underwear. It was no big deal. Yet, there were definitely parts of her anatomy that were suddenly declaring interest.