The Worst of Me

by Lisa J. Hobman

  “Are you okay? I don’t want you catching a chill on account of me.”

  She waved off his worry. “No, it’s fine. I think it’s just dropped a little cooler outside. What are you going to do for dinner?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well…I did promise you a Chinese take-out.”

  Folding her arms she cocked her head on one side and pursed her lips for a moment. “That you did, Random. So are you going to renege on our deal after all I’ve done today?”

  He widened his eyes, startled by her willingness to stay longer. “No, no. Not at all. I just figured you’d maybe want to…you know…get away from me.” He turned his mouth up at one side and gave her what he hoped was one of his best smiles.

  “Nah. Not until you’ve fed me like you promised.” She pulled her phone from her bag. “What do you want? I’ll order it and you can go pick it up. On your way you can grab a bag of logs and kindling from the shop.”

  “Okay, great. Erm…what do you recommend?”

  “The lemon chicken is delicious.” She licked her lips absent-mindedly. The look on her face confirmed her words and he could almost taste it.

  He nodded as his mouth began to water. “Lemon chicken it is then.”

  Cat called the take away to order their food whilst Nick grabbed his jacket, wallet and phone and made his way out to the car.

  “Better get some other stuff whilst you’re out. Unless you’re planning on starving!” she shouted after him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Catriona

  Forty minutes later, Cat opened the door to an exhausted looking Nick who was loaded down with bags and bags of shopping. She took the Chinese food from him and he followed her into the cottage. The door opened straight into a farmhouse kitchen with wooden units and green walls. The green wasn’t her favourite at all and she guessed it wasn’t Nick’s either. Based solely on the clothes he had bought for her she could see he was a man of discerning taste—despite the ridiculous cowboy boots and long hair.

  She plated the food and poured Nick a large glass of red wine, filling her own glass only half full. Wondering what was taking Nick so long, she went through to the lounge to find he had built a fire in the stove. There was a warm amber glow to the room and the smell of burning pine logs wafted throughout the cosy space. He looked up from where he crouched and smiled.

  Trying not to take too much notice of her appreciation of his face she turned and pointed to the kitchen. “Food’s ready. Do you want to eat in here where it’s warmer?”

  “No, it’s fine, I’ll come through. The heat should travel now the fire’s going.” He stood and followed her into the kitchen.

  After sitting in silence for a while and enjoying the lemon chicken she had recommended to the rock star she broke the silence. “So…how did you get into music?”

  He looked thoughtful for a while as if considering his answer carefully. “I always loved music and I used to listen to the greats with my dad. You know, Rainbow, Zeppelin, Whitesnake. Then when I’d just turned twelve this scruffy looking Aussie started at my school.” He smiled wistfully. “Chris Malham. Scrawny kid with shaggy blonde surfer dude hair and glasses. His rucksack was covered in all the same band names as mine and so we got talking. We were pretty much inseparable from day one. Anyway, we started listening to all the new stuff coming over from the States in the nineties…grunge…Soundgarden, Pearl Jam, Nirvana. We decided we could do that. So we both got lessons. By age fifteen we were pretty good and decided to set up a band. And the rest, as they say, is history.”

  “Wow. I bet your dad’s proud of you now.”

  Nick dropped his gaze and he pushed the rice around his plate. “I wouldn’t know. He ditched us when I was thirteen. Met a younger woman at work and off he went. We were no longer a part of his life after that. And music was what kept me going. That and Chris. Dad moved away to Manchester and we lived in West Yorkshire. Mum didn’t have a car and we couldn’t afford the train fares. I used to write to him but he rarely wrote back so I gave up. Didn’t hear from him again.”

  Cat gasped and her heart ached. She couldn’t imagine having such a poor relationship with her own parents. They had been such a close family whilst she was growing up. Even after her mum’s death she and her dad stuck together like glue.

  The more she learned about the rock star before her the more she realised he didn’t just amount to what was visible on the surface. He was such a complex character with a difficult background. It went some way to explaining how he was now. “Oh, shit. I’m…I’m so sorry, Nick. That’s really crappy.”

  “It was for a while but ... nah. You should meet my mum. She’s pretty amazing. She brought me and my sister up single handed after he abandoned us and did a pretty damned good job too in my humble opinion.”

  She admired his support of his mother and wanted to delve deeper. “Where’s your sister now?”

  He took a large gulp of wine and then smiled again and his face lit up. “Nat’s at university in Leeds. She’s studying journalism. She’s almost completed the course.”

  His sister’s profession seemed strange considering his own. “Oh gosh. How does that sit with you? Knowing that you get followed everywhere you go by journalists, it can’t be easy.”

  He smiled and shook his head. “Nat’s going to be an overseas reporter. She wants nothing to do with showbusiness. It’s of no interest to her at all, thankfully. She wants to be a news correspondent or something very high brow and intellectual. Real news, you know? Not what some minor celebrity had for breakfast or uses on his hair. She’s a real brain box my little sis.”

  The love Nick felt for his sister and the pride for her achievements oozed from every pore, and the smile he had when he talked about her made it clear that he adored her.

  With their meal finished Cat checked her watch and stood. “Gosh, I should get going really.”

  He got to his feet too. “I’ll walk you out.”

  She rolled her eyes but smiled at him. “Nick, I only had one small mouthful of wine and my car is literally outside the door. Plus it’s freezing. Stay in where it’s warm.”

  “Nope. I’m coming with. What if you’re attacked by some rogue sheep? I’d never forgive myself.”

  She giggled and slipped on her cardigan, pulling it around her body. He placed his hand at the small of her back just as he had done when they went shopping, and a shiver travelled up her spine at the contact. Without speaking he accompanied her up the four steps to her four wheel drive.

  He stood before her and she put her hand on the door. “Right then. I hope you sleep well in your new place.”

  He stepped closer. “I really appreciate you helping me today. You’ve been amazing. And the food…”

  She took a half step back. “Oh, it’s nothing. I owed you after my terrible behaviour.”

  He held his arms toward her and looked a little awkward. “Can I…can I hug you?”

  Her heart did a funny flip in her chest and she made excuses in her mind about it being the small amount of wine she’d drunk, knowing full well that one mouthful could have no such effect. And it was just a hug for goodness sake.

  She nodded and felt her cheeks flush. “Erm…sure.”

  He stepped closer still and pulled her into his arms, squeezing her tight. “I mean it, Cat. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me since I arrived. I know this whole thing isn’t exactly easy. But…well you’ve been a good friend. Even if you don’t like me that much.”

  Feeling the beat of his heart against hers made her stomach tighten and an ache began to build deep inside of her. She pulled away and found that his face was only a couple of inches from hers. His breath was warm against her skin and she could smell the richness of the wine he had been drinking. Glancing down she saw his tongue dart out to lick his lips and she snapped her eyes back to his. His hand reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear and she realised she was still held close to him by one arm.

&nbs
p; Her heart was making a vain attempt to escape from her body and she swallowed. “I think…I think you’re growing on me a little.” Her voice came out as a whisper as her eyes remained locked on his.

  “I’m really glad to hear that,” came his husky reply.

  Suddenly, on having the crazy urge to reach up and kiss him, Camden leapt into her mind and she pulled away. “I ... I can’t do this. Anyway, goodnight. See you around.” She pulled herself from his embrace, yanked the car door open and climbed in as quickly as she could, making sure to slam the door and lock it in case he tried to stop her. Without making further eye contact she turned the ignition and pulled away from Rockhill Cottage. In her rear view mirror she watched as he sank his hands in his jeans pockets and his shoulders slumped.

  What the hell had been about to happen back there? I’m engaged for goodness sake! Pressing her foot to the accelerator she increased her speed and didn’t look back again.

  ♫♫♫

  Nick

  He watched her leave and realised he didn’t want her to go. With her she took the light from the evening—and the warmth—something he hadn’t experienced for a long while with a member of the opposite sex. As the tail lights of her car faded down the long track road, he tilted his head skyward and gasped at the myriad tiny spots of light forming a canopy above him. In that second the heavy load of loneliness descended upon him and anger bubbled up from within. Why couldn’t he have someone? Why couldn’t someone like Cat care for him? Someone normal ... real ... beautiful.

  Dacre, you fucking moron. What the hell were you thinking? She’s engaged and she doesn’t even fucking like you that much. And add to that the fact that she does your head in too. You prize prick. Just because you feel fucking lonely doesn’t mean you should latch on to the first woman who shows you a shred of humanity.

  He stormed back in to the cosy kitchen and slammed around like a sulking teenager who just lost his TV privileges. Grabbing the empty food cartons, he shoved them aggressively into an empty refuse bag, tied it and threw it by the back door.

  Back at the table he quickly guzzled down the remaining blood red contents of his glass, picked up the bottle and walked through to the lounge. Slumping down on the sofa he took a long swig straight from the bottle and watched the dying flames in the stove. His mental rant continued as he watched the embers glowing. The last thing you fucking need is to be getting feelings of any sort for someone who’s not only unavailable but can’t stand you!

  He thought back to his past relationships—if they could even be called that. He couldn’t think of a single person he’d been with who’d made an impact. Not really. As far as love or anything close came he was on a totally different planet. Feeling a sudden rush of melancholy he picked his guitar up from where it leaned against the wall and began to strum. Lyrics danced through his head and he grabbed the small notepad he’d brought with him for occasions such as this.

  Once settled again he began to play and then scribble…play a little more and then scribble again. An hour later he had another song. Sadness washed over him as he realised that the next step would usually be to call Chris and play it for him. Chris was the one person he could count on to be totally honest—if a little brutal sometimes. They would play it over and over a few times and Chris would sing the harmonies that complemented Nick’s gravel-edged tone, bringing the song to life.

  Instead, here he sat playing the sad song to himself.

  Alone again.

  Chapter Twelve

  Nick

  After staying up far too late in a sorry state of reminiscence, Nick awoke late with a hangover. It wasn’t as bad as the ones he was used to but it was bad enough. After showering in the cold, poky little bathroom at the opposite end of the ground floor to the living room he dressed in a pair of new jeans and a grey sweater and decided the best thing would be for him to get some fresh air. After pulling on his newly purchased winter coat and boots, and wrapping the striped scarf he’d also bought around his neck, he made his way out of the door and set off down the lane. The only old item, his favourite woolly hat, was pulled down as far as it would go to keep out the biting chill that whipped around his face.

  He knew the walk to the village store would take a while but decided that the crisp morning air would help to clear his fuzzy head. At the bottom of the long lane he spotted a group of teenagers hanging around a bus shelter. They watched him carefully as he walked toward them and his heart began to pound.

  As he reached the group Nick glanced up into the wide eyes of a red-haired boy who he guessed was around fifteen years old. He quickly dropped his gaze and pulled the scarf up around his face. The last thing he needed was to be recognised.

  “Excuse me, Mister!” one of the group called to him. He stopped and clenched his eyes closed. What do I do? Acknowledge him? Ignore him? Shit. This is not good. Sooo not good.

  “Mister! You’ve dropped your glove!”

  Oh!

  He turned with a smile and took the glove from the red-haired boy’s hand. “Thanks, mate. I would’ve been annoyed about that later.” He turned to walk away as relief flooded him and warmed his chilled blood.

  “No problem. And don’t worry, no one apart from us knows who you really are.”

  Nick’s heart jumped almost into his mouth and he stopped in his tracks, trying to gulp down the panic that was on the verge of rearing its ugly head. He turned slowly to face the boy who had now been joined by the rest of the group. There were five of them in total.

  He frowned at the boy. “Who I am? And who might that be? I think you must be mistaking me for someone else.”

  The boy shook his head. “No. You’re definitely Nick Dacre from Sonic Idols. We’d know you a mile away.”

  Great. This is all I need. He stepped toward the group and spoke quietly. “Look, I need to remain anonymous, okay? If you tell anyone—”

  “Are you better now? You had a nervous breakdown, didn’t you? It was all over the news.” The red-haired boy looked genuinely concerned.

  Another of the group, a taller, thinner boy with long shaggy hair, chimed in, “The papers said it was drugs but your real fans know you don’t do drugs after what happened to Si’s older brother.”

  And a tom-boyish girl added, “Yeah, we all know they’re all talking mince. You’d never do drugs.”

  Talking mince? Oookay. He fought a smile and took a deep breath. “I didn’t have a nervous breakdown as such. I had a pretty bad panic attack. And no, you’re right, I don’t touch drugs. And you shouldn’t either. No matter how cool you think it might be.”

  Tom-boyish girl shook her head emphatically. “Nah. We wouldnae do drugs, Mr Dacre. Ever. So, what are you doing in Gairloch?”

  Nick smiled and began to relax. “I’m here for a little R and R, that’s all.”

  The red-haired boy narrowed his eyes. “Rock and roll? You won’t find that here, Mr Dacre.”

  Nick couldn’t help laughing. “No, it means rest and relaxation.” The group burst into laughter and shoved their friend who was now as red as a beetroot.

  “I knew that,” the lad insisted as they laughed.

  “How long are you staying?” asked the only girlie looking female of the group who had been silent up to this point.

  Nick huffed out through his pursed lips and raised his eyebrows. “No idea. Not long if any of you lot let on that I’m here.”

  Tall skinny lad interjected. “Like we said, no one else knows and we won’t tell. Honest we won’t. We think it’s cool that you chose our village. Nothing exciting ever happens here so it makes a nice change.”

  Red-haired boy sighed despondently in agreement with his friend. “Yeah. It’s dull as shit here. Why did you choose this place and not somewhere like Las Vegas?”

  Nick chuckled at the kids’ opinions on their home town. “For those exact reasons. Peace, tranquillity and no paparazzi. Sheer bliss.”

  “Well, no one here knows who you are so you’re pretty safe,” said the
red-haired boy but as soon as the words fell from his lips he clamped his hand over his mouth and continued through his fingers. “Oh shit. I didn’t mean that to sound as insulting as it did.” His cheeks turned bright crimson once again.

  Nick grinned at the kid’s reaction. “No worries. That’s a good thing as far as I’m concerned.”

  The girlie one spoke again. “If…if you need anyone to show you around…or…or if you need anyone to help you stay hidden by getting your shopping and stuff just let us know. We’ve nothing better to do.”

  Nick frowned. “Seriously? You’ve nothing to do around here when you’re surrounded by all this wonderful scenery? You lot should take a look around you. You don’t know how good you’ve got it.”

  The teenagers glanced at each other and then out at their surroundings. “You wouldn’t think that if you were our age and you’d been everywhere and seen everything here.”

  Nick shrugged. “Maybe you need to use your imagination a bit more.”

  “Easy for you to say. You can afford to go anywhere and buy anything,” huffed the ringleader.

  “What about clubs? There must be something like that for you to go to?”

  The tall lanky boy replied, “There are a few but…what we really want…” He glanced at the others. “Erm…”

  Nick folded his arms across his chest, intrigued to hear the boys answer. “What? Come on, out with it.”

  Tom-boy blurted, “We want to start a band. We wondered if you’d help us.”

  Nick figured they must have known of his presence in the village before meeting him today if this was their plan. “How long have you guys known I’m here?”

  Red-head cleared his throat and glanced around at his peers. “We thought it was you yesterday in the shop. But we didn’t know for sure. We talked about it and decided that if it was you we’d ask for your help.” The other kids nodded enthusiastically.