by Beevis, Keri
Maybe he would return, knowing university and a job in accounting was the answer, maybe he wouldn’t, but it was his choice to make. While he was looking forward to breaking the news to his father, he was dreading telling his mother.
He was about to head back upstairs to his room, turn on the Xbox, when the front doorbell chimed. Aaron scratched his belly through his T-shirt, cocked his head in curiosity. Given the remote location of the house, they didn’t get many cold callers, and his parents were private people so rarely had friends stop by. Possibly another reporter, but they had dwindled in the last week or so and it was unlikely.
Intrigued, Aaron made his way into the hallway, viewed the security camera, immediately recognising the face peering into it.
Lila Amberson: the girl responsible for his father’s current bad mood.
Most people would enjoy being touted as a hero in the press, but not Richard Gruger. He hated publicity, good and bad, and was not at all happy at being paraded on the front page of the local papers as the man who had saved Lila’s life.
It was a good job he wasn’t here, as he would likely blow a gasket. He wasn’t though and Aaron was intrigued to meet Lila, the sole survivor of the crash. The story had been all over the papers since it had happened, mostly thanks to Henry Whitman. Something Aaron would like to shake his hand for. It had been fun watching his father growing more and more outraged at the coverage.
He threw open the door, greeted Lila with a wide smile. ‘Hello there.’
‘Hi, umm, is Richard Gruger home?’
‘I’m afraid he’s away on business.’
She looked disappointed, but that was probably for the best. Disappointed was definitely a step up from the reaction she would have been sporting had his father been home.
‘Okay, umm, I guess you’re his son?’
‘That’s right. Aaron. Nice to meet you.’ He held out a hand, waited as she balanced awkwardly on her crutches to take it.
‘Hi, Aaron. Nice to meet you too. I’m–’
‘Lila Amberson… yes, I know. Word travels fast in this neck of the woods. You’re something of a local celebrity, you know.’
‘Okay.’ She actually blushed. ‘Everyone seems to know who I am today.’
There was a hint of dry humour to her tone, which Aaron appreciated. She was prettier than her picture in the paper, though still a little battered from the accident, and her dark hair fell like a silk curtain to a couple of inches below her shoulders, dark eyes too, slightly exotic in shape, and a wide mouth with a generous top lip that definitely hit the sexy radar. Too old for him – what was she, thirty-one, thirty-two – but then what was wrong with older?
He glanced past her to the car where her friend waited in the driver’s seat and he gave a wave. The friend gave an impatient little wave back, but didn’t get out of the car.
‘Would it be possible to leave a message for your father? I’d like to pop back and thank him in person if I could, but I appreciate he’s a busy man.’
‘Of course I’m happy to pass on a message. Would you like to come in for moment or are you in a rush?’
‘I…’ As Lila glanced hesitantly back at her friend, there was the sound of a second engine. Aaron watched as his mother’s car pulled to a halt on the driveway.
As Judith Gruger climbed from the driver’s seat, Aaron shouted out. ‘You’ll never guess who stopped by to see Dad!’
Lila turned to face her. ‘Mrs Gruger?’
His mother studied her for a second and he saw the moment recognition hit. Instead of smiling at Lila though, she scowled. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I… I stopped by to see your husband. I–’
‘He’s not here!’ Judith snapped.
‘Mum!’
‘I just wanted to say thank you.’ Lila’s tone though still a little shaken, had a harder edge to it. ‘He saved my life.’
‘We’re private people, Miss Amberson, and this is private property. I would appreciate it if you and your friend would leave.’
‘Mum,’ Aaron repeated. ‘Stop it!’ What was wrong with her? Why was she being so mean to Lila? Was this his father’s doing?
‘I’m sorry,’ he mouthed to Lila, stepping past her and going to Judith. He touched her arm, was shocked to see she was shaking.
‘Mum, what’s wrong?’
‘She needs to go please, Aaron. Make her go. Your father won’t like it.’
‘Dad’s not here.’
‘Please, Aaron.’
Reluctantly he turned back to Lila, saw she had already hobbled her way to the car and was getting in the passenger seat. He hurried over.
‘Lila, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s got into her.’
Lila gave him a smile, though it didn’t touch her eyes, looked forced. ‘It’s okay. It’s not your fault.’ Then she squeezed his arm and for a moment the smile seemed genuine. ‘Will you please tell your father I stopped by? Tell him I said thank you?’
Aaron returned the smile, wondered if he would ever see her again. ‘Of course I will. You have my word.’
5
Lila spotted her landlady’s fat ginger tabby, Clyde, as soon as Beth pulled up outside Lila’s flat. He was sitting outside the courtyard gate patiently waiting for her and ran up to the car meowing a greeting as Beth cut the engine.
‘Hey there, gorgeous boy.’ Lila already had the car door open and was scooping him up, burying her nose in his furry neck as he purred like a freight train. She turned to Beth. ‘Coffee?’
‘I’ll pass if you don’t mind. It’s getting late.’
Thanking her friend for the lift, Lila put Clyde down on the path and got out of the car. As she made her way up the pathway through the pretty front garden, Clyde running around her feet as she negotiated her crutches, she longed to get out of the clothes Natalie had lent her. Elliot wouldn’t be home for another hour, leaving her plenty of time to sink into a hot bath.
Her flat was the ground floor of a converted Victorian house. Her landlady, Primrose Vincent, an avid Norwich City football fan, Guinness drinker, and collector of the creepiest Victorian dolls Lila had ever laid eyes on, occupied the upstairs.
It wasn’t The Ritz, but Lila loved her little home, appreciating the quirky layout, the pretty courtyard garden and the city centre location. She also liked her eccentric landlady and was happy to help her out when needed, aware that her rent had barely increased in the years she had lived there. Plus of course, Primrose didn’t seem to mind that Clyde spent almost as much time in Lila’s flat as he did at home, which was good, as Lila appreciated the feline company.
Yes. It wasn’t The Ritz, but it was close enough.
She left the taps running, pouring in a generous amount of her favourite peachy scented bath creme, and hopped through to her bedroom to undress. She had a few more weeks with the cast on her leg and couldn’t wait to be shot of it. At least the bruising was starting to fade on her face. The ugly blue-black marks from where she had been flung against the seat belt were the worst. Those would take longer to heal and she was glad that they were mostly hidden under her clothes.
Back in the bathroom, she took a sip from the half glass of wine she had managed to carry through then turning off the taps, she eased herself into the bathtub, cursing when she slipped, sloshing water over the side of the bath and wetting her cast. Her left leg hooked over the side, she eased back, tried to relax, and instead spent a few moments indulging in a pity fest. Damn this awkward bloody cast, damn the ugly bruising, damn the pain the accident had caused. All she wanted was for her life to get back to normal. Was that too much to ask?
A slamming reminder followed the pity fest that Mark and Stephanie would never get to go back to normal. They were gone forever. No second chances for them.
There had been so many people at Stephanie’s funeral, family, friends and colleagues, whose lives were all affected by her loss. She had been so young, her life still ahead of her.
Lila’s thoughts turne
d to the visit to the Grugers. Richard Gruger’s wife had been so hostile. All Lila had wanted to do was say thank you, but instead she had been ordered off the property.
Jack Foley’s anger towards her was understandable, but Mrs Gruger’s was unexpected. Her husband had been away. Would he have greeted Lila with the same hostile reaction or would he have been more welcoming?
And then there was the incident at the hospital that Elliot thought he had witnessed. Her brother had an overactive imagination. Had he overreacted?
Unable to relax, Lila climbed from the bathtub and reached for a towel.
She sat on the edge of the bath for a few moments, sipping at her wine and trying to put the jumbled thoughts in her head into some kind of order. Draining the glass, she made her way through to the bedroom. She was trying to get her pyjamas on when her phone beeped and she picked it up, expecting it to be Natalie.
When Jack had dropped her at the café, Lila had asked her boss if she could start back at work. Natalie had been reluctant, but had relented upon hearing her money worries. The crutches would limit what work Lila could do though and Natalie had promised to give it some thought.
The notification wasn’t from Natalie though, instead it was a Facebook friend request.
Lila clicked into her account, viewed the request, taken aback to see the name Aaron Gruger. She had met Richard Gruger’s son for five minutes, not even that. Why would he track her down on Facebook and send her a friend request? It was odd. Her finger hovered over the “confirm” and “delete” buttons. Richard Gruger may have saved her life, but did she really want to become friends with his son? Why would he want to anyway? She was several years older than Aaron and they had nothing in common. It made no sense.
As she was debating, another notification popped up. Clicking on it, Lila saw Aaron had sent her a message. She hesitated for a brief second before opening it.
Hi Lila. Sorry to be contacting u on here. I’m not stalking u, I promise, LOL, but I wasn’t sure how else to get in touch. I’m so embarrassed at how my mother acted today. My parents have always been private people, but never rude, and I really don’t know y she acted the way she did. Please, she’s not normally like that and I’m so sorry. U asked me to say thanks to my dad and I will. Maybe he will invite u to the house some time. Oh, sent you a friend request as not sure u c messages if we’re not friends. Aaron.
Okay, so the message made the friend request less creepy. Aaron felt bad about what had happened and wanted to apologise again. Lila didn’t like that he had tracked her down on Facebook though and was still unsure what to do about his friend request.
Instead she stalked his profile, learnt from that he was eighteen and a popular kid. Like Stephanie Whitman, he had several friends, and his posts – which contained a lot of what she guessed he hoped were “mean and moody” selfies – had attracted a lot of likes and comments, especially from girls.
Deciding that for now she would leave the request pending, Lila finished getting into her pyjamas and went through to the living room to wait for Elliot.
* * *
‘Giles, are you coming to bed?’
‘Yes, in five minutes. Promise.’
Giles Buchanan fobbed Alyssa off for the third time, knew she was getting impatient. He needed a few more minutes, couldn’t she understand that?
Of course she didn’t know what he was doing. He had lied to her, telling her it was work, because he didn’t want her to know he was looking into Lila Amberson.
The woman was hiding something, of that Giles was sure. He had already done his homework on her after the accident, would have been inclined to leave it, but then she had shown up at Stephanie’s funeral and he had smelt a rat.
The woman was an opportunist and it seemed he was the only one able to see it.
She wasn’t financially stable, propping up her little photography hobby with waitressing work. This car crash was just an excuse for her to cash in.
It had been an accident, Giles did believe that, but Lila Amberson was the sole survivor and, despite Henry’s determination to prove Lila’s boyfriend, Mark Sutherland, had caused the crash, there was no evidence to back him up. The Whitmans were rich and Lila was aware of that. Why would she have shown up at Stephanie’s funeral if she hadn’t wanted something?
Lila wanted money and Giles was determined she wasn’t going to get a penny. This was his family, his future, and he intended to protect it, by any means necessary.
6
Having spent the past five days brooding and feeling like a jerk for how he had treated Lila Amberson, and deciding he needed to apologise, Jack Foley concluded that Nat’s Hideaway would be the logical place to try to track her down.
Yes, she probably shouldn’t have shown up at Stephanie’s funeral and his anger could easily be put down to emotions running high on the day, but still he had overreacted and, while he might have a quick temper, he would always hold his hands up if he believed he was in the wrong. If he apologised, perhaps Lila Amberson would stop weighing on his mind and he would finally be able to break through the block he had been experiencing over the last few days.
It should have been plain sailing. The edits on his latest book were complete and with his publisher, Tiffany had headed back to London, and his schedule was clear. He had a new plot he had been working on for some time and was keen to crack on with, but the words weren’t coming, and those he had forced out were crap.
He wasn’t short-sighted enough to believe it was solely down to Lila Amberson. Stephanie’s death had left him devastated. Despite the seventeen-year age gap, she had been the closest to him of his half-siblings and the loss was raw. It was only natural it would affect his writing. Plus her death had him questioning the direction of his own life.
Work was good, great even. Not many people got the chance to do their dream job and be paid handsomely for it. His relationship with Tiffany niggled at him though. They had been dating for almost two years, having met on the set of a BBC adaptation of his first book. Tiffany Pendleton-Shay had been the assistant make-up artist on the production and she had suckered him in with her long limbs, throaty laugh and impulsive attitude. They’d had fun; plenty of drunken nights out, some wild dinner parties with interesting guests, and lots of hot sex. It had started off as a no-strings-attached good time for both of them and they had slowly drifted into something more serious. And that was where the differences between them became more apparent.
Tiff was a Chelsea girl through and through and had no intention of leaving London. Jack had tired of the fast life, wanted to set up home on the North Norfolk coast, get a dog. For the past year they had been making their relationship work long distance, neither of them thinking too far into the future. Stephanie’s death had made him re-evaluate everything. He was thirty-four and life wasn’t slowing down. He loved Tiff, and God, she was beautiful, all long, tanned legs and dark blonde hair, with crystal eyes that could go from hot to ice in less than a second. But was he in love with her?
Maybe he was feeling like this because of Stephanie. Instead of acting rashly he needed to allow time for his emotions to settle, wait until he was thinking clearly again. Give it a few weeks and maybe he would realise that Tiffany was the right fit. At which point perhaps it was time to take things to the next level and propose. The living arrangements stuff would figure itself out. Either she would relent and move to Norfolk or he would have to consider selling the house and moving to London.
For now, he pushed thoughts of Tiff to one side and focussed on the task at hand. By righting the wrong with Lila, he hoped to start getting his life back on track.
Although he had never been inside Nat’s Hideaway, he had driven past it countless times, knew it was a popular place with both locals and tourists.
No doubt Lila had told her work colleagues that he’d been a dick to her, so he didn’t expect a warm reception. Hopefully they would realise his apology was sincere though and put him in contact with her.
He found a space in the next street along, parked up, and strolled down to the little café where he had dropped Lila five days earlier. On the day of Stephanie’s funeral it had been grey skies and heavy rain. Today was dry and warmer, teasing a promise of summer, and tourists were already out in droves, ambling past the art and craft shops, queuing for ice cream, and sitting along the wall that overlooked the beach as they ate chips from polystyrene trays and tried to avoid the swooping seagulls.
He pushed open the door to the café, charmed at the quirky little bell that chimed, announcing his arrival, and glanced around. The place was small, with only a handful of booths and tables, most of which were occupied. As he made his way to the counter, he sidestepped to let two women pass, glanced casually at the woman serving then did a double take, just as her eyes met his.
Lila.
She wore a pale yellow uniform, her hair tied back, and for a moment she looked shocked, though quickly recovered.
‘What are you doing here?’ she hissed, voice low so as not to disturb the customers.
Jack didn’t answer, instead throwing the same question back at her. ‘More like what are you doing here?’ When her scowl deepened he elaborated, ‘Shouldn’t you be at home recovering?’
‘Since when did you become my doctor?’
She was sassier than when they’d first met. Then she had been contrite, mortified, sympathetic, and he had thrown all of her apologies back in her face. She’d obviously had time to think about that and realise how badly he had behaved towards her.
He ignored the gibe. ‘Can we talk for a minute?’
Lila raised her eyebrows at that. ‘You want to talk? I thought you never wanted to see me again. What were your words? You wanted me to stay the hell out of your life.’