His father chuckles and I follow suit, turning my head to look up at him.
‘I’m just in awe of your skills.’
‘Why do I feel like you’re teasing me?’
‘I’m one hundred percent serious,’ I reply softly, holding his eye for a beat before taking up one of the small balls he’s created. ‘Right, show me the way.’
We work together, rolling out the naans and cooking them under the grill while his father tends to the bubbling pans and the dogs curl up together in the corner, having decided spice is not their thing.
It’s all so easy, so relaxing, and the time just flies by. This is what being in a family is like. A normal family. No pretence, no walls—just existing. It’s how my mother would have had it—how my father would have been had she survived.
The thought makes me sad and happy in one. Sad for losing it...happy to have found it here.
After dinner, once we’ve cleaned the pans and taken our wine into the library, I excuse myself to pop to the bedroom and check my phone. I want to check on Granny. There have been no calls or texts and, taking that as a good sign, I head back downstairs.
As I approach the study I can hear Ash talking, and my stride slows of its own accord.
‘After Jess I just didn’t want to go there—didn’t want to risk going through it again.’
‘Your mother never liked that girl... She saw right through her from day one. I only wish you’d had the same insight.’
‘Mum was always a good judge of character.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t go that far. Clive had her as fooled as the rest of us. She was the one who suggested he be your godfather.’
‘Yeah, well...lucky for us we saw through his act.’
‘You saw through it, you mean.’
The room falls silent and I can hear the crackling of the fire. I can’t make my legs work. Who’s Jess? I know all about Clive, but Jess... He’s never told me about her.
‘She reminds me of Jess.’
My heart skips a beat at his father’s remark. What?
‘She’s nothing like her.’ Ash is so vehement as he says it.
‘No, no—not when you get to know her. But her appearance...the air she has about her.’
Ash blows out a breath so forceful I can make it out from this distance. ‘Yeah, well...she’s not.’
‘Lucky for you, hey?’ His father is all jovial now. ‘Seems you picked right this time. She’s lovely, Ash, truly lovely.’
‘I know.’
‘So why so serious, then? You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders when you should be walking on air.’
‘It’s not that simple.’
‘Of course it is. Love can be that simple if you just let it in.’
‘Like I did with Jess?’ Ash says, and his cynicism, the realisation that he once loved this girl, whoever she was, strikes through the very heart of me.
I press back against the wall, my hand over my chest as I try to ease the chaos beneath. I almost want to walk the other way, to forget what I’ve heard. It’s made me realise how much I don’t know about him. How much I do want to know and understand. Is this the pain I glimpsed? Is his heart still broken over her?
‘She wasn’t worthy of your love, but...’
I close my ears off and cough as I head to join them, knowing that to listen to any more isn’t right. If I want answers, Ash can give them to me.
‘Ah, Coco—again your timing is impeccable.’ His father rises out of his chair before the fire; Ash does the same. ‘I’m about to call it a night.’
‘Don’t leave on my account.’ I feel like he’s leaving because of me, and considering he rarely has company, I don’t want that.
‘I’ve had a busy day chauffeuring and catering—amazing how it can take its toll.’ He grins at us both and looks like he’ll say more, but then he simply shrugs and whistles to the dogs, who immediately spring to attention and trot to his feet. ‘I’ll see you both in the morning.’
‘Night, Pop.’
‘Goodnight, Peter.’
‘You can call me Pop too, if you like.’
He gives me a wink and off he goes, leaving me blushing in his wake.
‘He means it affectionately.’
Ash looks awkward, uncomfortable. Has he guessed I was eavesdropping, or is he still reeling from the conversation with his father?
‘I know.’
I wait for the door to close before taking up my wine glass and heading over to the chair his father had been sitting in. Ash tops up his own glass and sits opposite me, but his attention is on the fire. He’s distant. Thoughtful.
‘Who’s Jess?’ I ask.
His eyes snap to me. ‘You heard?’
‘Sorry.’ I grimace. I don’t want him to think it was intentional. ‘I couldn’t help overhearing the tail end of your conversation, but it kind of feels like something I should know.’
‘I don’t talk about her at all if I can help it.’
‘But you can tell me anything—you know that, right?’
He studies me, unblinking, long and hard.
‘Ash?’ I press softly.
He comes alive, the air shuddering from his lungs as he leans his elbows on his knees, his eyes falling to the glass he’s cupping in his hands.
My gut twists. Did he love this Jess that much? He looks so broken...torn apart. Maybe I don’t want to hear this after all. Maybe—
‘We met at school. She was the popular girl every guy wanted and every girl wanted to befriend.’ He gives a harsh laugh I don’t recognise. ‘I guess you could call me the male equivalent... I was smitten, so was she, and we were together right through school, university... I thought that was it—she was the one.’
I sip my wine, hoping it will ease the sickness inside, but instead it burns a path all the way through me. ‘The one?’
His eyes flick to me. ‘I was coming to the end of my gap year and she’d been doing a placement in Paris. She flew home and I surprised her in Arrivals with a diamond ring.’
‘You proposed?’
He nods his head, his eyes on his drink. ‘She said yes. It was sorted. We agreed we’d complete our studies and then have a grand wedding in the summer, start our lives in earnest.’
‘What happened?’
‘Clive happened.’
I frown at him, not putting two and two together and fearing it’s because my heart is breaking with every word he says.
‘The second my family’s money left the equation, she walked.’
I shake my head. ‘I don’t believe that. No one would be that shallow.’
He scoffs. ‘You’d think that, wouldn’t you? Hell, I thought so too—until I ended up falling foul of it.’
‘But that’s sick.’
He shrugs. ‘It wasn’t just the money—it was the scandal too. She didn’t want to be tarnished by it.’
‘But you cleared your father’s name, proved he was innocent, recouped some of the money.’
‘Oh, yeah, I did all that.’ He leans back in his seat now, slumped, almost defeated. ‘And she came back, all right—told me she’d made a mistake, that she loved me, begged me to understand.’
He rubs his fingers over his jaw, his eyes lost in the memories, and then I remember the night we first met—the night he told me I wasn’t his type.
‘That’s why you were so harsh when I first met you?’
He frowns in confusion.
‘When you said I wasn’t your type?’ I explain, softening my words with the hint of a smile. It’s about all I can muster when my heart is losing control in my chest.
He cocks his head, his eyes sweeping over me. ‘You reminded me of her, yes.’
‘I’m sorry for that.’
‘Don’t be sorry.’
; He places his drink down on a small side table and moves to kneel before me, his eyes soft as they gaze up at mine.
‘It turns out I do have a type; you are my type, she was my type, but that’s superficial...’ He cups my jaw and strokes my skin. ‘You see, underneath, you’re nothing alike. And what I feel for you... It’s more. It’s real. I...’ My breath hitches and he shakes his head. ‘I’m not very good at this.’
I bow my head towards him, dizzy on the meaning of his words, the promise of him feeling more, the promise of his potential love...
‘On the contrary,’ I say, brushing his lips with my own. ‘I think you’re better than you know.’
And then I’m kissing him with every ounce of the love I feel inside. Because he loves me, and I love him, and we have all the time in the world to tell each other how we feel, to carve out a path together. To find a way to make our lives converge. Because I’m not turning my back on this. Not now that I have it.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I CAN’T SLEEP. Coco has her head on my chest, snoring softly, but I’m staring into the darkness plagued with what ifs.
I almost told her everything. When we were sitting before the fire and I was so lost in my thoughts, thinking of ways to explain that wouldn’t impact the plan I have underway back in London.
But then she asked about Jess—a topic I could easily cover now that my past no longer has any hold over me. Thanks to her. Thanks to Coco and my love for her, I realise that what Jess and I had was never love.
But you can tell me anything—you know that, right?
Her words haunt me. The one thing I really wanted to confess I couldn’t—not yet.
Soon though—very soon.
Philip Lauren will be waking up to a special delivery package today, and I expect a phone call soon after. A barrage of abuse. And then his rational side will have to win out. Or so I hope.
Then I can make real time for this—for her.
I press my lips to her head, letting my breathing ease and hoping for sleep to come and take away the what ifs.
* * *
I wake to the incessant buzzing of my mobile phone and an empty bed. Ash isn’t far, though. I can hear the shower running in the en suite bathroom and I smile, my mind already visualising him naked and all soaped up.
I reach for my phone on the bedside table. I should hurry and join him—the sliver of light coming through the curtains tells me I’ve overslept as it is. But then, what’s the rush? The day is ours and it feels so good.
My phone stops ringing as I pick it up and I have to activate it again to see the notifications.
Three missed calls: Grace, Philip, Grace.
Granny.
I sit bolt upright as the world around me spins. Something’s happened. Something bad. My hand soars to my throat as I try to breathe through the panic.
Calm down. You don’t know for sure. There could be any number of reasons why they would need to ring...
No, there’s only one.
With fuzzy fingers that are far too slow to do what I want, I call Grace back.
Pick up, pick up, pick up.
It goes straight to voicemail, just as the ping of a message arriving comes through. It’s a voicemail from Grace.
‘Coco, darling, it’s Grace. Don’t panic, but your grandmother has been taken into hospital with suspected pneumonia. She’s in the ICU. I don’t... I’m not... I think you should come as soon you as you are able. Philip will send you the details. Take care.’
My stomach heaves... My skin prickles from top to toe. Here I am, playing happy holidays with Ash, worrying over the state of my love life, when Granny’s fighting for her life. It feels like some twisted punishment for letting go, for being selfish enough to think of myself. How could I have thought leaving was okay?
I throw back the quilt. I need to get home—now. I need to tell Ash.
I don’t even dress. I head straight for the bathroom, opening the door.
Ash’s dawning smile dies the second he sees me. ‘Coco...?’
I can’t find my voice; I’m trembling all over. I grip my upper arms and start to rub them, shaking my head.
‘Coco?’
He slams off the shower and walks towards me.
‘It’s Granny.’ I swallow as I look up at him. ‘She’s been rushed into hospital.’
He inhales softly and reaches for his robe from the back of the door, wrapping it around me and pulling me in close. ‘Do you know what’s happened?’
My teeth rattle. ‘Suspected pneumonia.’
‘Okay.’ He’s so calm, so composed, and already I take comfort. ‘We’ll get dressed and go. Do you think you can get your stuff together while I let Dad know?’
I nod, so grateful that I don’t even have to ask to leave. He just gets it.
He turns away to grab a towel. ‘Do you know where she is?’
I shake my head. ‘Grace says Philip is going to send me the details.’
‘Okay.’ He wraps the towel around his waist and comes back to me, his hands firm and reassuring on my arms. ‘Go and message Philip, then get ready.’
I nod up at him and move away to do as he instructs, but my mind is racing. Guilt, fear, sadness... What will I find when I get back to London? Just how bad is it? ICU means bad.
When Ash returns to find me staring unseeing into my bag, he does it all for me. His calm and controlled manner is everything I need, and as he puts his arm around me to draw me towards the door I feel his strength, his warmth, seep into my body. I know that with him by my side I can face this.
I can face anything life throws at me so long as we’re together.
* * *
I’m so focused on Coco and her pain that nothing else matters as I drive to the hospital. She’s sported a haunted look ever since she came to me in the bathroom, and I’ve never felt so powerless in all my life. Nothing can take away her pain; I can only be with her and get her to her grandmother’s side as quickly as possible.
But her silence—it’s killing me. She’s barely said a word between saying goodbye to Dad, the plane ride and now the car journey once more.
The hospital is only minutes away now. I’m worried that she feels guilty at having gone away, and if so, that’s down to me.
I mean, Christ, if her grandmother dies and Coco’s not there, that’s on my head—that’s worse than everything else put together.
My hand pulses around the wheel and I realise my knuckles are white. I try to ease my grip, not wanting her to see how anxious I am, but as I look at her I see she’s fixated on the passing world, her body stock-still, her eyes distant.
I suppress the ragged sigh that runs through me. I feel desperate, pained, anxious, and so full of love for her it’s unreal.
‘Thank you for doing this,’ she suddenly says into the quiet.
Thank you? Christ.
I want to do so much more. I reach over and take her hand in mine. Her fingers are like ice and I don’t want to release them. I want to give her my body heat, my comfort. I want to take away her pain.
The car grumbles, demanding a gear change, and I give her a gentle squeeze before taking my hand away.
My mind turns to Philip. I know the package was delivered this morning—what I don’t know is whether he’ll have opened it. From what I can make out he’s been at the hospital since their grandmother was admitted in the early hours, and it’s likely he’ll still be there now. Which means I run the risk of being seen dropping Coco off, of having our relationship blown.
But it all seems so insignificant now. It doesn’t matter that her grandmother’s death is expected. When it comes to the cold, hard reality of it, life and love come first.
Will Philip see it that way?
Was my package unnecessary?
I navigate the hospital’s one-way system, lookin
g for the drop-off bay, and she turns to me.
‘Park up.’
‘I’ll drop you at the door,’ I say softly. ‘You can call me, and I’ll come and pick you up later.’
Her eyes widen. ‘But—’ She breaks off, shaking her head as she looks away.
‘What is it?’
She doesn’t say anything. I reach over and touch her thigh. ‘Coco...?’
‘I thought...’
She looks back to me, her eyes wavering over my face, trembling with a fresh well of tears.
Shit.
‘Can’t you come with me...please? I don’t want to go in alone. I don’t—’ She breaks off again and hugs her arms around herself. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t ask. Of course you can’t—’
‘I will.’
The words are tight, my heart tighter. I can’t say no to her. Not when she needs me. But Philip will be there...
Fuck Philip. You love her and she needs you.
My jaw pulses and I look to the road, changing direction with carefully controlled force and heading for the car park.
Whatever waits for me on the other side of those doors, I deserve it.
She has to come first.
Always.
But can I warn her?
How do I do that without making this trip all the more devastating?
I look at her, sitting across from me, and her wet smile of gratitude pulls me apart.
‘Look, I’m not sure what’s going to happen when we get in there,’ I try. ‘Your brother... He might... Well, he might say some things about me...about us.’
She flings a hand out and squeezes my leg, her head shaking. ‘I don’t care what Philip has to say. I only care that you’re here, by my side.’
Because you don’t know.
I shake my head, my fist pulsing around the wheel.
Just tell her.
I pull the car into a parking space and cut the engine, but I’m slow to turn to her, slow to gather my thoughts. ‘I’m sorry, Coco. I’m sorry for—’
‘I know you are. But you’re here and that’s all I need; now, let’s go.’
Her hand is already on the door handle, her eagerness to get in there clear, and I tell myself it’ll be okay. That I’ll have all the time I need to make it up to her.
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