“You think?”
“Yeah. I mean, yeah, it might make him run back to wherever it was he was hiding, but at the same time it might drag him even more into your life than he already is.”
I nod because she’s right. It lessens some of my guilt about introducing Denny to his dad.
I watch as Frankie falls back into the sofa cushions and downs her glass of wine.
“Wow, sweet and sensible little Erin. I didn’t see this coming.”
“Not helpful!”
“Everything makes so much sense now,” she muses to herself. “Dean suddenly showing up the other night and you disappearing until god knows what time. What happened?”
“I told him it was over,” I admit with a pang to the chest.
“Really? How’d he take that?”
The image I’ve been battling with since Saturday is suddenly front and centre again. “Not great.”
“It’s not over though, is it?” she asks suspiciously.
“Yes. I told him it was over.”
“Erin,” she breathes. “Be honest for a moment here. Is it ever really going to be over when it comes to Jay? Not once did you believe he was dead, and not one second has gone by since he left for tour that you haven’t been head over fucking heels in love with him. It hasn’t mattered that he hasn’t been here, because he never left there,” she says, pointing at my heart.
“I’ve got Alex now.”
“He may be living in your house and sleeping in your bed, but I think we both know he hasn’t got you. Not the bit that’s important, because that’s belonged to someone else since your twentieth birthday.”
“For fuck’s sake, Frankie. You’re meant to be helping,” I complain.
“Truth hurts, bitch.”
* * *
“Am I allowed back now?” Alex asks sarcastically when he opens the living room door just over an hour after he was sent packing.
“Yes. I was just leaving,” Frankie says, putting her glass down and standing up. “Walk me out?” she asks, looking down at me.
Alex grabs my arm as I go to walk past him. I glance up at him briefly, long enough for him to mouth, “You okay?” to me. I nod and continue behind Frankie. I did the best job I could to try to cover up the fact that I’ve been crying, but I’m not stupid enough to think Alex won’t notice.
Frankie stops when she gets just outside the front door, and encourages me to join her. I pull the door to behind me but she leans in and whispers anyway. “Whatever you decide, I’m behind you 100%. But…” she pauses for emphasis, “You’re gonna have to make a decision here. And it’s not just about you. You need to make the right decision for him,” she says, flicking her eyes up towards Denny’s bedroom.
“I know,” I whisper.
I wave her off but I don’t rush back in. It might be a cold October night, but for the first time in a long time, the appeal of going into that house isn’t there. I’m taken right back to the reason I went on that road trip with Jay in the first place. To get away from here and from Mum, who was hell bent on ruining herself to keep her business afloat. As I predicted, only one of them survived. I just didn’t think it would be the business.
I stand looking out at the darkness before me for so long that Alex eventually comes to find me. Thankfully, the sound of his footsteps breaks through my daze and I rush back inside before he realises I was stood out in the cold on my own.
He looks up and smiles when I turn to him, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. He knows something’s wrong. “Everything okay?”
“Of course,” I lie. It seems to be coming almost second nature these days, and I hate it. “Just the usual Frankie man trouble.”
He looks into my eyes as if he’s going to be able to read the truth in them. “You’ve been crying.”
“It was nothing. Honestly. Just stupid girl stuff.”
Alex looks anything but convinced but thankfully he lets it go.
“Here. Seeing as you already started,” he says, handing me a fresh glass of wine.
He comes to sit next to me on the sofa and pulls me into him. I have to really fight not to tense up. Nothing’s changed, really, yet I feel totally disconnected to him.
Frankie’s right. I need to make a decision. The only problem is that my head and my heart are telling me two different things.
* * *
“Let’s go to bed,” Alex whispers in my ear before he starts nibbling on it. Goosebumps prick my skin where his breath tickles but it’s the only response my body has to his advances. I know I can’t deny him any longer. It’s only going to lead to more serious questions I’m not yet ready to answer.
My head is spinning thanks to the wine and Frankie’s demands for me to make a decision as I follow Alex up the stairs, my hand tightly clamped in his.
I haven’t had that much experience where sex is concerned, seeing as I’ve only slept with two men, but I can honestly say this is the first time I haven’t been fully present for the act. My mind is well untruly absent. And by absent, I mean on someone else. The guilt eats me alive to begin with, but as he continues, I manage to switch it off. Although it’s a relief to not be completely consumed by the feeling, it’s also worrying that I’m now able to put it to one side and allow Alex to continue.
Once we’ve cleaned up, Alex is out like a light. I, on the other hand, lie next to him, the boyfriend who doesn’t deserve any of this, and I cry silent tears for hours until my exhaustion drags me under.
Chapter Six
I’ve never experienced the unease of knowing I can’t trust myself. I’ve always been a very straight-laced person. I’ve always known my limits and never pushed further than I’m happy with. But as I say goodbye to Alex Thursday morning, that’s exactly how I feel. It’s not that I think I’m going to jump straight in my car and drive to Jay, because I won’t. My concern is if I see him, or if he comes after me. Will I be able to stay strong and do the right thing? It’s hard enough when Alex is right here, but with him gone…I just don’t know.
I hate it. All of it.
I hated the look in Alex’s eyes as he left me. I keep thinking he knows, but he can’t, because he’d have questioned me…but he knows there’s something. I swear he was silently asking me to promise him I’d still be here when he got back. He can feel the distance between us just as much as I can.
I hate that every time I talk to Frankie, she reminds me of the decision I need to make.
And I hate that every time I look at Denny, I feel like I’m keeping the most important thing in the world from him: his dad.
I keep myself together as I drive Denny to school, but the second I shut the front door behind me it hits me once again. The guilt. The confusion.
Deciding against working, I grab a bucket, cloth, and a bottle of bleach. I start on the bathroom before making my way through every room in the house. I wipe away every speck of dust and tidy everything I find in my attempt to clear my head. But by the time I get to the kitchen, I’m as confused as ever.
I drive back to the school in a daze. Denny talks all the way home like usual, but I don’t really hear it, and I make dinner while he plays but I don’t remember peeling the potatoes or grilling the sausages. Somehow I get dinner on the table without burning it or myself, and I’m just about to call Denny when it happens.
The ceiling gives way right above me, filling the kitchen and covering me in ice-cold water.
I scream in fright and Denny comes careering around the corner to see what’s going on.
His chin drops at the sight but I can see the relief on his face that I’m okay. Freezing fucking cold, but okay.
“Shit,” I shout, my frustration at life getting the better of me.
“Bad word, Mummy,” Denny chastises.
“I know. I’m sorry, baby. Don’t listen to me.”
He smiles at me as his stomach rumbles.
Water continues to pour down over the kitchen worktops, flooding the floor. My brain suddenly begins to function a
nd I fall down onto my hands and knees so I can turn the stopcock off. When I finally locate it under the units, I can’t budge the fucking thing.
I sit up, surrounded by water, and look at Denny as he backs up towards the hallway so his feet don’t get wet.
“I’m sorry, baby,” I whisper, but he doesn’t hear. He’s too busy retreating.
I grab my phone, which is thankfully at the dry end of the kitchen, and Google emergency plumbers. The first one that pops up is A. Harris. I hit call, then explain my issue.
* * *
Denny’s sad face is watching my every move. As soon as I hang up, I call Frankie, hoping she’s free and can take Denny out for dinner while I sort this mess out. She doesn’t answer so I’m forced to call the only other person I trust to babysit.
“Hi, Dawn. I’m so sorry to call you last minute but I think I’ve got a burst pipe, or something, and the kitchen ceiling just came down all over dinner. Is there any chance you could take Denny out for some food?”
“Oh no. Of course I will. Paul’s at the pub but I could call him if you need some help,” she offers.
“No, it’s okay. I’ve got a plumber on his way.”
“Okay, I’m just putting my coat on now. I’ll be there in a few,” she says before quickly hanging up. I hate relying on Alex’s mum when it comes to babysitting, but sometimes I don’t have much choice.
Leaving Denny watching the water spread across the tiled floor, I run upstairs and grab as many towels as I can find. I throw them all on the kitchen floor in an attempt to protect the carpet in the hallway.
Thankfully, Dawn and Paul only live a couple of miles away, so minutes later I hear her pull up outside. Denny’s stomach continues to grumble as I pass his coat over.
“Please can I stay? I want to watch,” he begs.
“I’m sorry, baby. You need dinner before it gets too late. I’ll make sure Dawn takes you somewhere good.” My words don’t help as he looks longingly into the kitchen. Denny’s a very hands on kid—I like to think he got that from me, but it could just as easily be his dad. I’ve no doubt he’ll end up fixing or making things for a living, which is why the water pouring through the kitchen ceiling is amazing him right now.
“Thank you so much,” I say to Dawn as I put Denny’s seat into her car as quickly as I can.
“It’s no bother.”
“Here.” I pull some cash from my pocket.
“Don’t be silly,” she says, waving me off. “Just let us know when it’s safe to return.”
I’m just shutting the front door when a white van pulls up behind my car. Relief washes through me. Hopefully the damage will be contained to the kitchen if he can get the water turned off fast.
It’s not until he’s only a few foot away that I actually look up at him. My mouth drops open as I look at a familiar face.
“Dean?” I ask, my eyebrows draw together in confusion.
“Yeah?”
“Aren’t you a mechanic?”
“Technically, yeah. Shall we do the pleasantries when you don’t have water pissing through your ceiling?” he asks with a smirk. I’m glad he’s finding this entertaining.
“Yeah, sure. Through there.”
The sound of another car door shutting hits my ears but I don’t think anything of it as I turn and follow Dean into the house.
No sooner is he in the kitchen than he’s on the floor in the water and reaching for the stopcock.
“Fuck,” he grunts, and pulling back with the handle in his hand. “I’m gonna have to turn this off in the street.”
He stands and walks back out past me. I turn to watch him as I wonder how many hours he’s spent in the gym over the past five years to transform himself into the beast of a man he is today, when a figure in my hallway catches my eye.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I snap. I don’t mean to be harsh, but he was the last person I was expecting.
His eyes drop from mine and run over every inch of me.
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he mutters, his eyes still perusing my body.
“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter when I look down to see my wet, white, see through t-shirt clinging to me. I reach behind him and grab one of Alex’s hoodies hanging on a hook.
I throw it around my shoulders to cover up but I don’t miss the narrowing of Jay’s eyes as he realises I’ve put another man’s hoodie on.
“Why are you here?” I ask again once his eyes come back to mine.
“I was having a drink with Dean when you rang.”
“So you thought you’d come for what? The fun of it?”
“No. Obviously we didn’t know it was you. Not that it would have stopped me,” he admits, cockily.
“Well, it should have. I said everything I needed to say to you the other night.” The effort it’s taking for me to stay strong while I say this is incredible. I’m fighting the lump that’s trying to block my throat and the wobbling of my chin, which I’m not sure is because I’m angry that he’s here or relieved that he is. Whatever it is, it pisses me off.
The sound of running water comes to a stop behind me and Dean’s reappearance stops our previous conversation.
“Okay, water’s off. Let’s see what the issue is. Bathroom above by any chance?” he asks, nodding his head to the ceiling.
“Yes.”
“May I?”
“Be my guest,” I say, but instantly freeze as I think about what he could see that belongs to Denny.
Neither Jay nor I move, so Dean has to squeeze between the two of us to reach the stairs. I see him glance back over his shoulder at Jay. There’s some kind of warning in his eyes, making me wish I was in on their silent conversation.
Jay goes to take a step forward.
“Stop,” I say, putting my hand up to halt his movements. “I mean it.”
“Erin,” he says, ignoring my hand and stepping forward regardless.
I have nowhere to go so I sidestep him. “Just…stay here.” He gives me a little nod. I need him snooping around my house just as much as I need to stay in my tiny hallway with him.
I run up the stairs and breathe for the first time since I found him in my house. I ignore the banging in the bathroom in favour of changing out of my wet clothes.
I have no desire to look good, so I pull on a pair of jogging bottoms and an oversized jumper before piling my wet hair on top of my head. What I need is for him to stop looking at me the way he is, and to forget about me.
“Everything okay?” I ask, poking my head into the bathroom to see my flooring pulled up and the boards stacked by the bath.
“Yeah. You had a fitting pop off. No biggie. I’ll have this sorted in no time. Then we just need to hope Dad has a new stopcock in the van so we can get your water back on.”
“Your dad?”
“He’s A. Harris. Him and Mum are out and left me in charge of the phone in case of emergencies.” Dean goes on to tell me all about growing up as a plumber’s child but having no desire to spend his day with his hand down other people’s shitters—his words, not mine—but he’s happy to help out where he can.
“So, is Frankie single?” he asks, changing the subject.
“Frankie’s always single.”
“Interesting.” His lip curls up and his eyes twinkle.
“I wouldn’t go getting any ideas. She’s likely to cut it off with a blunt knife if you put it anywhere near her after what you did.”
“It was just a little white lie, and it was forever ago.”
“Hmmm…whatever you say.”
“She’s smokin’. I wouldn’t say no to another chance.”
“It’s gonna take a bit more effort than last time if you want to show her you’re serious.”
“Hey now, no one said anything about serious.”
That may be true, but it doesn’t take a genius to see there was more than just a fling between them.
I make small talk with Dean while he fixes my pipes—anything to avoid
going downstairs and dealing with Jay.
“Okay. That should be sorted.”
I follow him downstairs and I’m surprised to find the hallway empty when I turn the corner. My heart jumps into my throat and I run for the living room. If he’s in there, he’ll see all the toys and photos of Denny.
I push the door open in a rush but find the room empty. The kitchen is the same.
“What did you say to him?” Dean asks when he reappears with a new fitting in his hand.
“Nothing he didn’t already know.”
“You need to give him a break, girl. He’s had a rough time.”
“He isn’t the only one.”
“Yeah, so I saw,” he says. “Listen, whatever it is you’ve got going on here is none of my business. But you owe it to him to hear him out, find out the whole story, not just write him off.”
“I’ve got a life now, Dean. I can’t just turn back time like none of this exists.”
“Maybe not, but you need to talk.”
I grunt at his suggestion.
“It may have been a little misguided, but everything he’s done has been because he’s put you first. Nothing’s changed for him, Erin. Well, not where you’re concerned, anyway,” Dean says, suddenly very serious.
“He’s told you all of this?”
“Well, no. He hasn’t told me fuck all, but I can tell.”
Silence falls around us as Dean finishes whatever it is he’s doing. His words are on repeat in my head and I do my best to ignore them, but it’s pointless. Nothing’s changed for him, Erin.
“Right, all done,” he announces as he stands and rights his damp clothing.
“Thank you. How much do I owe you?”
“Nah,” he says, waving me off. “It’s on the house.”
“But…”
“You’ve got to promise me you’ll talk to him.”
“Dean,” I complain. “I’d rather just pay you.”
“Sorry, not an option,” he says as he gathers up his tools. “Give this a few days to dry out and it should be fine. If not, give me a ring. I’ve got some contacts.”
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