by Mel Sherratt
Megan was a firm believer in giving people the benefit of the doubt. She knew Sam was a troublemaker and would probably bring her more grief than happiness but she didn’t care.
She was falling for him.
So maybe he would give her a second chance? She had to let him know what was wrong with her before giving up her dreams. She couldn’t deny herself happiness. Because if she lost the opportunity to be with someone who cared about her, she would never forgive herself.
After deliberating some more, she quickly typed out a message on her phone.
Sorry for hanging up on you. I was really upset.
She paused, then continued typing.
Do you think we could meet and I could explain why?
Her finger hovered over the button. Should she send the message or should she delete it? She shouldn’t class Sam the same as the others – he deserved a chance. He might be totally cool with it. She wanted him to be totally cool with it. And if she didn’t let him see for himself, then she was letting herself down too.
‘Stop being so indecisive,’ she scolded herself.
Holding her breath, she pressed send.
When Lewis was dropped off by Josie, he looked at the house and saw his mum standing in the window.
’Now I really do feel like a five-year-old,’ he joked. ’I’m going to get told off by my mum again. Amy must have called her.’
‘Not necessarily.’ Josie’s smile was encouraging. ’Just talk to her. Tell her what you said to me.’
He shook his head. ‘I need to sort myself out first before I can tell anyone that.’
Lewis got out of the car and walked up the path. Laura was in the hall when he opened the door. He took one look at her and hung his head in shame.
‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ he said. ‘I was selfish and I—’
‘I’m lonely, too,’ she broke in. ‘I can’t believe he’s gone. It happened so quickly.’
Lewis stayed quiet, realising she needed to talk. And he needed to listen.
‘Don’t you think it’s hard for me to put on a brave face every morning?’ Laura spoke softly, her voice breaking with emotion. ‘I miss your dad every single day. I miss him every time I open my eyes, every time I take a breath. I miss him when I go to bed every evening. Sometimes I don’t want to get up in the morning because he won’t be around. It’s a terrible cliché, I know, but life goes on. Your dad wouldn’t want either of us to mope around.’
Lewis tried to grasp some of what his mum was going through. They were both grieving but she was doing a much better job than he was of hiding her pain. Nathan had been taken quickly too, but so had his dad. There had been no time for his mum to say goodbye. One minute, they’d been a couple: the next the life had gone from his dad as he’d keeled over and had a heart attack.
How could he have not realised, not tried to understand how she was feeling?
Ashamed of his actions, Lewis opened his arms. ‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ he repeated.
Laura walked into them. Moments later, he felt her sobs against his chest, her tears soaking his T-shirt.
Lewis hugged her tightly, his own eyes welling up, too. Saying what he had to Josie had come out of the blue. Of course, he’d known he was affected by Nathan’s death, but he hadn’t realised it was also because he was grieving for his father, and the problem it had left him with, not having anyone to confide in.
He needed to make amends with a lot of people. With Amy, even if their relationship was unsalvageable. With Dan; he was a great lad and a son to be proud of. With his mum, hopefully too.
Then he’d go and see Nathan’s parents. They’d offered to chat to him a few times but he hadn’t wanted to intrude. Now he thought perhaps it might do him good to sit down and talk it through with them. He needed to shed his pain, his anger, his grief.
He needed to get on with his life.
Josie Mellor was right: Nathan would have liked that. He knew his dad would too. It was the best thing he could do for them both. He would move on with his life in their memory, make everyone proud.
‘If I come and help out with the old dears at Poplar Court until I get a job, could you put up with me on a regular basis?’ he asked Laura.
Laura smiled through her tears. ‘Your dad would be so proud of you,’ she told him.
‘Dad would have kicked me up the arse, Mum.’
‘Maybe so – but he would be proud of you, too.’
Lewis hugged her again. Perhaps he would never forgive himself for all those wasted years he could have spent with his dad, but he could make the following years with his family ones to remember.
Sam had had a boring day. The weather had been hot and he’d spent most of it sitting in the tiny garden behind the flats. All he could think about was Megan. He couldn’t understand the pull he felt towards her. She was giving him the brush off big time, yet he didn’t want to give in yet.
Something about her mannerisms was telling him not to quit. There was something she wouldn’t share with him, and he needed to know what it was before he walked away. He could cope with the rejection if she just wasn’t into him, and he wasn’t going to chase after her. But she seemed so vulnerable, so sweet when she was with him. The last time she had seen him she’d been trying to soothe him, and the next she was gone when he came out of the room.
He thought back to that conversation. Had he said something to upset her? Okay, he’d been a grumpy bastard but that was nothing new so it probably wasn’t that.
Was she too wary of his past? Did she not want to get involved because of what he had done? She knew he’d been involved in a fight, she knew he’d been in trouble before.
With spare time to mull things over and over, it had made him realise that if he wanted to find love, settle down, perhaps get married and have kids, then he needed to be a good catch. It had also made him understand he was far from that. What would any woman want with him right now?
But if he kept away from the likes of Scott Johnstone, and his so-called mates who had all but abandoned him anyway, he could perhaps go on the straight and narrow. Maybe in time he could earn some decent money the legit way. After all, he hadn’t earned much as a criminal. It wasn’t as if he was some Face with a huge house, flashy cars and loads of money, and people doing the dirty work for him. He was a petty thief, and had been very lucky to avoid jail.
The thought of being locked up now, especially being so vulnerable, not knowing how long it would take for his hand to get better, if he ever got the full strength back, was too much.
Yes, to get a girl like Megan, he would have to change. She wouldn’t put up with him and his ways. And he realised that was far more important to him.
He was falling for her, wasn’t he?
Half an hour later he checked his phone to see a message. He opened it, smiling when he saw it was from Meg.
Chapter Forty-Four
With the weather recovering after a sudden downpour earlier that morning, Megan took her break in the hospital grounds. Although it was always noisy with so many cars, staff and visitors coming and going, she found a bench on a small patch of lawn next to the helipad, and sat down. Gazing up, she closed her eyes in the sunshine and let the warmth flood over her while she waited for Sam.
Over the past few days, they’d begun to send text messages again. Their conversations veered on the friendly side now. Sam hadn’t asked her to go out with him again and, although she was glad, she hoped she hadn’t missed her chance altogether. Maybe if the friendship built up, she could trust him enough to take things from there.
Last night, they’d arranged to meet during her break. Sam had an outpatient’s appointment that morning. Although she was nervous about seeing him again, she was excited too.
‘Hi, Meg.’
Megan jumped at the sound of a voice. She hadn’t heard anyone coming towards her. Shielding her eyes as she looked to see who it was, her stomach did its usual flip. Sam’s smile was as warm as the sun, his blue eyes shining down on he
r just as brightly.
He sat down next to her. Megan moved along a little and an awkward silence fell between them.
‘How are—’
‘Are you—’
They spoke in unison and then laughed. Embarrassed to look at him, Megan watched as a woman expertly parked a people carrier in the tiniest of parking spaces in front of them.
‘How’s your hand?’ Megan asked.
Sam held it up. ‘It’s getting better slowly. Man, those women in physio are brutal! It’s aching so much now.’
Megan smiled. ‘Wimp.’
Sam turned to face her, bringing his arm to rest behind her on the bench. For a moment he stared at her, then he began to speak.
‘Am I wasting my time with you, Meg?’ he asked. ‘I can keep badgering you with texts and phone calls asking if we can meet, but I don’t want you to think I’m a stalker. If you don’t like me enough to go out with me, then you only need to say. I’ll probably curl up and die if you don’t, but …’
Megan didn’t know what to say. She shook her head.
‘Is that a no, you don’t like me? Or a no, I’m not wasting my time with you?’ He gave her shoulder a friendly poke.
Meg looked at him, took in his smile, his warmth, his genuine affection. Her mum’s words rang in her ears.
You’re beautiful, you’re young and so full of life. You deserve to find happiness and be loved by someone.
She turned towards him slightly.
‘I have a port wine birthmark,’ she blurted out. ‘It’s purple and it’s ugly. It covers most of my cheek, some of my nose, my right eyelid and forehead.’
‘Where?’ Sam narrowed his eyes and studied her face. ‘I can’t see anything.’
‘That’s because I cover it with make-up. Haven’t you ever noticed that it’s trowelled on?’
Sam leaned in closer and tilted her chin upwards.
Almost immediately, Megan felt her skin flushing. Damn, that would make things worse. She needed to look away from the intense gaze of his eyes, but she found herself drawn to them.
‘I look like a freak without any make-up,’ she said, her eyes brimming with tears. ‘I hate looking so made up but I don’t have a choice. It’s that – or let everyone see this!’ She pointed to her face.
‘I get the birthmark,’ said Sam, ‘but I don’t get why you let it bother you so much. Why are you so reluctant to get too close?’
‘There was a boy I met when I was sixteen, Damien Broadhurst. He wasn’t from our school so he hadn’t known me when I was growing up. I hadn’t realised back then how much my friends accepted me the way I was. I got close to him, enough to, well, you know. Afterwards, I confided in him about my birthmark. Up until then I’d covered it up with make-up, but suddenly I felt brave enough to show him. He took one look at my face and I could tell that he was revolted.’
‘But that was one pathetic idiot!’ Sam shook his head.
Megan quickly wiped away a tear that had fallen. ‘He took a photo of me on his phone before I could stop him and he posted it everywhere. It was on Facebook and he texted it to lots of people. He’d added two words to it – baboon’s arse. Some of the kids who’d known I’d got a birthmark but had forgotten about it as it had been covered up for so long, started to tease me. I became the laughing stock of the school again – and the name stuck with me.’
‘But it’s only a birthmark!’
Megan shrugged. ‘Until then, I’d been fine letting some people see it, but after that I covered myself up all the time. I – I kept away from boyfriends, too. I have my work, and I have my mum to take care of and that’s enough.’
Sam grimaced. ‘You have no friends, now?’ He hazarded a guess.
Megan shook her head.
‘I find that hard to believe.’
‘Why?’
‘Kids are usually the first ones to accept people for what they are.’
‘Kids maybe, but teenagers don’t. They’re the first to label us with names that we’re stuck with for the rest of our lives. Baboon’s arse was mine. So once I left school, I purposely lost touch with everyone.’
‘You hid away?’
Megan shrugged.
‘Why do you think you’re not good enough?’ Sam wanted to know. ‘It’s not the birthmark that bothers you, is it? It’s the rejection.’
Megan looked away. Was it being rejected by her father that had made her feel too conscious of her birthmark? Was that when it had become more of an issue, and then exacerbated by Damien Broadhurst?
‘And I thought I was hung up on scars.’ Sam looked at her sheepishly. ‘I’m feeling pretty pathetic about that now.’
Megan reached inside her bag for her purse. Inside it was a photo. She slid it out and gave it to him, holding her breath as she waited for his reaction. The silence almost killed her why he looked at her, then at the photo and then back to her again.
‘Wow, I’m shocked,’ he spoke at last.
‘I told you it was revolting.’ Megan snatched the photo away from him and stood up.
‘Hey.’ Sam’s voice was soothing as he took hold of her hand. ‘I’m shocked that you cover it up so well, that’s all.’
Tears welled in Megan’s eyes as she wondered whether to believe him or not.
‘It’s part of you, so what? It certainly doesn’t turn me off at all, if that’s what you’re thinking. And if you are thinking that, actually, that’s quite shallow to judge me without letting me know.’
‘You’re just saying that.’ Megan looked down at him. ‘Once you’ve gone, you’ll say you’ll call me and I won’t hear from you again.’
‘Sure you will. I’m not giving up that easily.’
‘That’s why I took the photo, so that I couldn’t be humiliated in person,’ Megan carried on as if she hadn’t heard him.
‘You should wear it as a badge of honour.’
‘Now you’re being stupid.’
‘It’s part of you, Meg. It’s what gives you the character you have because it’s made you tougher.’
‘It’s hard to keep it hidden all the time,’ she admitted.
‘You should try being me. I’ve acted up so much in my life that I don’t know who I am anymore.’ Sam sighed. ‘I know you remember me from school too, and know that I’ve been in trouble most of my life. I’ve not been to prison but it’s been close a few times.’
‘But you grew up with friends around you, didn’t you?’ Megan was confused.
Sam shook his head. ‘Not the ones I really needed to be with. Funny though, since meeting you I feel like I want to settle down and – my mother will have a heart attack if I admit this – but once my hand is better, I’m thinking of getting a legit job.’
Megan was taken aback.
‘It’s you! You’re such a grafter and I can see how determined you are.’ Sam looked shamefaced as he continued. ‘I’m sorry that I mocked you for being a cleaner rather than a nurse, as if it’s not a worthy job, because it is. But I like how you get the job done. You’re happy with your lot, Meg, and that isn’t a bad thing. It just makes me realise that I’m not.’
‘Oh?’
‘When the police called to see me at the hospital,’ he raised his hand in the air, ‘I’d been doing something I shouldn’t, clearing away some land so that me and my so-called mates could get easier access to rob somewhere.’
‘Was that Jackson’s Electronics?’ Megan frowned, recalling the headline in the local newspaper that. ‘I read about that.’
Sam nodded. ‘But when it all went wrong, eventually I realised that my mates wouldn’t stick by me. I realised that I didn’t care much either. One of them beat me up as I wanted my cut—’
’Two wrongs don’t make a right.’
‘I know that, but it made me realise that I had nothing to look forward to in my life. And then you came along and that made me realise that I enjoyed being with you, and that I wasn’t about to give up until you made it absolutely clear that you didn’t want to know
me.’
Megan checked her watch, realised she’d had far longer for her break than she was allowed. ‘I’d better be getting back.’
‘Meg, I feel a bit soppy saying this,’ Sam stood up, ‘but I think you’re gorgeous. You need to let go … and maybe trust someone again.’
‘What, someone like you, you mean?’
‘You make me sound like a right good catch!’ Sam put his hand to her cheek, resting it gently until she stopped flinching.
Megan knew he would be able to feel the lumps beneath his touch, so she closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of him.
‘I don’t know what you’re worried about,’ he spoke at last. ‘Scars – they all define us but that’s what makes us individual. Unique, I suppose.’
‘So, you won’t be repulsed by it?’
He shook his head.
‘You would be if I didn’t hide it. People would stare.’
‘Let them, I wouldn’t care. And maybe people might not stare as much as you think. Women wear make-up anyway, so at least you can cover it up if you like. Whatever makes you happy.’ He took out his mobile phone. ‘Let’s take a selfie.’
‘No!’ She put up a hand.
‘Yes.’ He held onto it until she put it down.
Megan looked at him and smiled. It might take her a long time to trust him but he was right there for her. Her mum had been right too. Beauty was only skin deep.
Chapter Forty Five
At home alone that evening, Donna was unable to rest. Since Owen had known she’d left the flowers at Shop&Save, she’d been constantly wondering if he would be watching her, ready to strike again when she least expected it. Even still, she tried to put it to the back of her mind, hoping against hope that he would get fed up and leave her alone.
But as she sat in the living room watching Coronation Street, there was a knock at her front door. It still came as a shock as she went to the front window, flicked up a slat on the venetian blind to see Owen standing there.
She jumped back as if burned, but he had seen her. In an instant, he was at the window, knocking on it.