by Annie Dyer
“Okay. Where shall we go?”
“How about the pub in the village?” he said. “I know it’s nothing gourmet but we can walk there.”
I nodded. “Perfect.” And it was. Simple and easy. Like it should’ve been all along.
***
“Claire!” The knocking at my door didn’t stop, resounding taps becoming increasingly louder. “Claire! Open the door! If you don’t I’ll call Jackson and he’ll…”
I opened it and Vanessa pretty much fell in to the room.
“Why were you ignoring me? I heard you were missing Marie’s dinner,” she looked flushed and slightly dishevelled and I suspect that she and my brother had been making the most of a couple of hours without interruption. “Jackson happened to mention it after, well, and, shit, Claire! You’re going out with Killian? On a date? Today?”
I stared at her, my flat irons still in hand, half my hair clipped up. “Have you lost the power to speak coherently?”
She cocked her head on one side and mock-glared. “Killian. You told me you used to date, kind of. What’s happened?”
I moved out of the way of the door so she could come into the bedroom that had always been mine, although there were no longer any posters of film stars on the walls. “We kissed last night. And promised to talk. Today we had a walk in the woods across the fields…”
“Yes, Jackson and I have been there. It’s quiet and parts are really secluded.”
I decided not to press for details. “We decided to spend a bit of non-work time together and he suggested dinner.”
“And then he asked Marie if she minded you both skipping lunch, which smells amazing by the way. I’m hoping without the two of you there, they’ll be enough left for us to take home for seconds.”
“I doubt it. You’ve still got Seph and Callum there. And Max – he can eat his own bodyweight in Marie’s cooking.”
“So, go on, tell me about Killian.” She sat down on my bed and pushed her hair out of her face.
“We’re going out for something to eat. That’s about it.”
“And you’re not thinking about the size of his manhood or how he kisses…”
“Who the fuck says ‘manhood’? Serious, Van, ‘manhood’?”
“Stop trying to change the subject. One of your sisters mentioned catching sight of it once and commented on how big it was,” she gestured a good nine or ten inches with her hands. “They didn’t mention girth though. Can you get your fingers around it?”
“You’re going to marry my brother. I’m concerned you’re going to offer up comparisons between what you’ve heard about Killian and Jackson’s micro-wiener,” I said, finishing applying heat to my hair in the name of taming it.
“It’s not micro,” she said, looking a little too fondly at the recollection of what they had been doing probably minutes ago. “I’ve never…”
“And stop right there. The last time I saw my brother’s penis he was seven. I might have pointed at it and shouted ‘worm boy’. Any more information than that will result in me finding photographic evidence of said worm boy and sharing it on social media,” I said in the tone I usually used for dealing with Seph, and sometimes Ava.
“I’m not entirely sure how that would put me off discussing Jackson’s no longer worm like manhood but we’ll return to the point in question. Killian.” A smug smile crossed her face.
“We’re going out for dinner,” I repeated. “That’s it. Nowhere fancy. Nowhere I’m going to need a cocktail dress or even a pair of heels.”
“So why does your make-up look so perfect and you’re taking two hours with your hair?” she said with more than an ounce of sarcasm. “When you saw Killian three weeks ago you were bare faced and sweaty having just endured boot camp at Max’s gym.”
“Because we’re going to the local pub and if I end up seeing someone I know I don’t want to look all washed out. All it takes is one person to say to Marie that I look under the weather and she’ll be shipping me iron supplements and making appointments with a specialist,” I said, only semi-joking about the supplements.
“Are you nervous?”
“About seeing someone I know?” I enjoyed being deliberately obtuse sometimes. “Not really.”
“Claire!” she said. “You’re clearly making an effort and the way you kept looking at each other while you were both holding his nieces…”
“You noticed?” I put my flat irons down, alarmed. “I wasn’t staring really badly, was I?”
She smiled knowingly. “Yes, you were, but so was he, and none of your brothers noticed. In fact, Jackson’s response to you going out with him for dinner was along the lines of ‘why do they have to talk work when we’re here?’. I didn’t correct him.”
“Thank you,” I said, remembering that this time it was different; I didn’t have to hide away a relationship if it turned out to be that. Nerves bit me like a mosquito, the continually itching perpetrated by the secret I hadn’t divulged. Not yet, my heart screamed. Don’t tell him yet. See where it goes; wait until you know what his reaction will be.
“He kept watching you too,” she said, softly now. “He has done since I’ve known him. Even when you’ve been tormenting him he’s stayed nearby and when you’ve spoken to another bloke he’s usually disappeared. I think he was jealous.”
“I doubt it.”
“I don’t. How serious were you?”
I had known Vanessa since before she became a couple with my brother. She was a good friend and I trusted her as much as I trusted anyone outside of my own family, a family that she would soon be part of. “Very. For our age. But circumstances got in the way.”
“Like what?”
“He was joining the marines.”
“But that’s not why you split, is it?”
“No.” I couldn’t lie. And I found I didn’t want to.
“Did he cheat on you?”
“No. He was perfect.”
“So why did it end?”
I blended my foundation into my skin and stared into the mirror, seeing the girl who had been nineteen and pregnant.
“I ended it,” I said. “I did something. I did it for the right reasons but it should’ve been his decision as well.”
“You were pregnant?” she said after more than a few seconds.
I nodded, watching her expression through the mirror. Her eyes went soft, expression understanding, not judging.
“What a difficult decision to make but given your age and position I understand. I think I would’ve done the same,” she said. “I’m not trying to tell you not to feel guilty because I think that’s part of the process but I don’t think you should be punishing yourself. He doesn’t know?”
“No. I never told him.”
“Are you going to?”
“At some point.” I turned towards her. “I don’t know when that point will be and I don’t know how he will take it.”
“Knowing Killian, he’ll take a moment to think about it and then understand. He’s a good man, Claire.” She stood up, opening my wardrobe and pulling out a sleeveless top with a tiny repeated print. “Wear this. It suits you.”
I took the top and smiled, glad she had said that instead of ‘he’ll love you in it’ or something equally objectifying. “I don’t know how to process all of this.”
“Then don’t try. Just go and enjoy whatever it is between you and that hot blonde Viking,” Vanessa said. “I’ll break the news to your second eldest brother that it wasn’t a work meeting.”
The groan that I expelled was loud. “He’ll have comedy material for the next year. They’ll be no second date because between the four of them, Killian will be so mortified he won’t ever be in the same room as me again.”
Vanessa laughed and shook her head. “Disagree. I’ll see you before we leave. Or, if you’re not back, text me.”
She left the room, shouting at Jackson who must’ve been somewhere nearby and I was alone with my thoughts and a bundle full of nerves.
<
br /> Chapter Seven
Killian
It was only really Max who looked at me funny when I mentioned that Claire and I were skipping dinner at home and eating out.
“You’re taking my sister out for dinner?” he said, sipping on a protein shake. “Do I need to beat up you or her?”
I shrugged. “Neither of us.” I eyed him, trying to get a read on what he was actually thinking and failing. Max was the master of the poker face. “It’s a date we’re going on.”
He raised his eyebrows. I had learned over the years that this was a Callaghan thing; letting silence accrue so the other person started to speak. It wasn’t something that generally worked on me, so I cricked my neck and closed my eyes, enjoying the sun.
“A date?” he said finally. I cracked a smile. “With Claire?”
“Yes.”
“K, she eats men for breakfast and picks on their bones for a mid-morning snack. Are you sure you want to go there?”
I laughed quietly. That was how Claire presented herself. I knew differently but now wasn’t the time to explain that. “If you don’t hear from me tomorrow, have a look for my remains.”
Max shook his head. “I didn’t think you thought of her that way.” I heard the tone of his voice change although he was trying to hide it.
Honesty always was the best policy. “She’s never been my sister, Max. You know I’d never hurt her and I’d kill anyone who did, but I’ve never thought of her as my sister.”
“Do I want to know how you thought of her or will it result in violence?”
I chuckled. “Only violence towards you. Probably from her. If it makes you feel better pretend Claire and I are going out to talk about Katie’s security, but I don’t want to lie to you, man.”
He avoided my eyes. “I appreciate that. It just feels weird. Yeah, I know my sister dates and I’ve heard about far too many of those dates and where she’s woken up. Sometimes I feel sorry for whoever she went out with as she could bust a pair of balls with just one look. But you’re not just a date.”
“So, it’s me you’re worried about?”
“Fuck off,” Max said. “I’m worried if something happens between you and it goes disastrously wrong.”
It already has, she ended it, I wanted to say, but again, now was not the time. “We’ll deal with that if it arises.”
He nodded. “I’ll just pretend it’s not happening, until you get married or something.” He gave me an odd look that I couldn’t interpret.
“I’ll say nothing until then,” I said. That was where I was feeling this would go. Claire had always been it for me: the girl I thought of when I was overseas; the one I wanted to come home to; the one I thought of when it was late at night and I couldn’t sleep. Now, older, hopefully wiser, I wanted to see how we were together, whether the chemistry we’d had was because of our youth or something deeper within us. And I still wanted to fuck her so she forgot every name but mine, including her own.
I left him to it, heading inside to shower and get changed for dinner, thinking about Claire and what she was thinking now, whether she’d find some excuse to not go. She was running scared of something, probably to do with why she never gave me the reason why it was over.
Half an hour later and I was ready, sat in a chair at the front of the house, head facing up to the sun with my eyes closed.
“Hello, stranger,” she said, smiling. She looked beautiful and I resisted the urge to grab her and carry her over my shoulder to a bedroom where I could make her mine again. She was petite, small framed, that hadn’t changed over time, and her big brown eyes gazed up at me. I would sometimes forget that she was a foot shorter than me until we were face to face like now.
I could be a gentleman and offer her my arm, leading her down the country pathways towards our destination, keeping it very formal and proper, but I wasn’t that man. My hands went to cup her face and I bent down to kiss her. Just a kiss at first, until her arms moved around my back and her fingers wrapped into my hair. Her mouth opened and the kiss deepened, becoming harder, as did what was beneath my belt.
A cough sounded and we broke apart, still holding on to each other.
“Sorry,” Seph stammered. “I thought you should know I was there. Sorry.” Seph looked mortified, more so than when I had caught him fucking one of the secretaries from his offices in the toilets of a club, as in by the sinks, rather than a cubicle. He’d still been with his girlfriend at the time, although they’d possibly been going through a rough patch – there had been several. Seph seemed to forget the facts that suited him, having berated Jackson for bathroom sex and it being unsanitary.
“It’s fine, Seph,” I said. “And there’s no problem if you want to tell people what you saw either.”
“There isn’t?” Claire said.
“Fuck, no,” I said. “Do you have a problem with it?”
Seph gave us one last stare and hotfooted it back to the house, probably anxious to share exactly what he had seen.
She pulled my head down to her and started to kiss me again, slower this time, and I felt her body press against mine, one hand dropping to her ass and pulling her against me. “Shit,” I said, breaking away. “I’m reconsidering dinner.”
She shook her head. “I’ll get hangry. That hasn’t changed.” Her hands gripped my arms. “These have though. I thought you were built when we were younger but now you’re like a brick wall.”
“Is that good?” I muttered. I hadn’t been celibate, nowhere near it and while I lifted weights at the gym and looked out of myself for my career in the marines and now for the pride of it, it had drawn women too.
“Hell, yeah,” she said, her voice low, thumbs trailing soft, short pathways against my skin. “I’m not complaining. We should eat. Energy and all that.”
I turned, wrapping my arm around her waist and began to steer her towards the path that led through fields to the village. “Anything you’re thinking of expending that energy on?” I asked.
She laughed, her face lighting up and then darkening, eyes dropping to the ground. “We should start slow,” she said. “I’ve kept you at arms’ length for so long, K. I’m not sure that rushing into something would be healthy.”
“I get that,” I said. “And you’re right. And I have more will power than when I was twenty.”
Claire laughed and we started to talk about her brothers as we walked; her wit had sharpened but she still spoke with the same affection about them, and her sisters.
“Are you looking forward to the wedding?” I asked as the village came into sight on the horizon.
She thought for a moment, as she often did, never fully committing until she was sure. “Yes. I worried that they were going into it too soon. But then I hadn’t seen Jackson like that over someone before. It was sweet and nauseating at the same time.”
“He’s taken some shit for it,” I said, her hand now in mine. “Disappearing for half an hour at poker nights to ‘check Vanessa is okay’ leaves him open to all kinds of abuse.”
“He won’t care. That’s been the difference this time. Vanessa has become number one over everything which is the way it should be,” she said. “I really like her too. We were friends before she got together with Jackson and it hasn’t changed.”
The pub was full outside, without a table to spare, but there was a small space available indoors, tucked in the corner and out of the way from prying eyes. The pub was a typically English one with stone floors and wooden beams, real ales on tap, most of them brewed locally. Claire sat down opposite me, her back to the rest of the pub and she toyed with the menu.
“It’s weird being out with you here like this,” she said. “After the time we spent sneaking around and then years of avoiding you, this feels like I’ve somehow escaped into an alternate universe.” She brushed her hair behind her ears and her legs knocked against mine.
I didn’t move, liking the contact.
“It should feel more awkward,” I said, as a waited gestu
red he was coming over. “But it doesn’t. What do you want to drink?”
“A glass of red,” she said. “Rioja.”
I ordered for us both, starting to feel relaxed rather than apprehensive. Neither of us have to drive anywhere tomorrow or this evening. There’s time to enjoy the sunshine and the mood of the day.
“Your brother seems to be looking after Katie,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “She messaged me this morning to say thank you. Even though her home was broken into, she said she feels safer than she’s done for weeks.”
“He’s good at his job. The fact she’s staying where his kids are means he’ll be extra vigilant anyway. How long until she’s divorced?” I said, not bothering to check the menu as I knew what I’d be having. I’d been here just a few weeks ago with Max and Jackson; we’d spent an evening trying the different brews and relining our stomachs.
“It depends on what she’ll settle for. If she wants to get what she’s entitled to it could take months if not longer. My hope is that Dean Lacey meets someone else soon and wants to get rid of his ex, in a legal manner, nothing untoward. But she’s got evidence one him that could land him in trouble with the police and until he’s confident she won’t do anything with it, she’s at risk,” Claire said. Her hand came towards mine and she tapped my fingers with her own gently. It was a gesture she’d done when we were younger and she wanted to theorise something but she wasn’t sure how to say it.
“What if Katie was to hand over the evidence she’s got?”
Claire shook her head. “He’s obsessed with her as she’s had the audacity to get away from him. From what she’s said he’ll move on eventually but in the meantime she’s scared. She’s got enough on him to have a judge expedite the divorce, even if he contests, but she doesn’t want to use it. He’s things on her and her family. Too much power.”
Our drinks arrived, two glasses and a bottle of the rioja. The waiter uncorked it and poured Claire’s glass first. Rather than sipping it to taste she took a large mouthful and sighed, sitting back. “It’s fine. Have a second bottle ready.” The waiter laughed. He was young and struggled to take his eyes away from Claire, even when he poured my wine.