by Ella Hayes
‘Do you ever dream about finding a place beyond the stars?’
‘What?’
She smiled. ‘You know, like Neverland...? Peter Pan...?’
‘Ah...of course.’ He chuckled. ‘Maddie used to be frightened of Captain Hook...and the crocodile. I was always more preoccupied with how the clock managed to keep ticking inside the crocodile’s stomach.’
‘That’s because you’ve got a scientific mind!’
‘True.’
She thought about the illustrated copy of Peter Pan that had belonged to her mother. It lived at her grandmother’s house, and after her mum died she’d take it into her room or into the garden and spend hours looking at it, trying to guess which pictures her mum had liked best. Tinkerbell! Wings to fly, silver fairy-dust trailing...
‘I was besotted with Tinkerbell, and I loved Nana the dog...’ There was that part of the story where Mrs Darling was telling the children that night lights were like a mother’s eyes, guarding them. Had Theo’s mother guarded him, and Madelon and Bram, or hadn’t she been able to? She came back to the moment, found Theo gazing at her. ‘But I was always rather concerned about the Lost Boys...’
He smiled softly. ‘That’s because you’re like Wendy.’
* * *
‘I can’t believe it took three quarters of an hour to walk less than a mile!’ She was in the galley kitchen buttering thick slices of bread, sprinkling them with hagelslag.
He stepped behind her, sliding his arms around her waist. ‘It’s because we were walking romantically.’
She paused, laughed, carried on shaking chocolate over the bread. ‘So I can strike it off my bucket list?’
‘Not yet.’ He lifted her hair away from her neck and kissed the warm, smooth skin behind her earlobe. ‘We need to work on our technique...to get the kissing-to-walking ratio exactly right.’
He closed his eyes, breathing her in. He couldn’t get enough of her. Her body, her lovely face, her smile...everything she was. Although their childhood experiences had been radically different, she knew how it felt not to have been truly young or carefree, and it was a relief to share that understanding. Eline had had everything: two parents who’d loved each other; a beautiful home; advantages at every step. Perhaps that was why she’d struggled to empathise with Bram’s situation and his own response to it. But Mia could. She got him, even though he wasn’t able to be completely open about everything.
She wriggled out of his arms. ‘I need to make the coffee...’
‘I’ll do it.’
‘No.’ She picked up the plate of sandwiches. ‘You take these on deck and guard them against marauders! I’ll bring the coffee out.’
‘Aye-aye, Captain.’ He took the plate and in a matter of moments he was outside—on deck! Why was that thrilling? It was a small space. Two blue wicker chairs were surrounded by a sea of planters and pots crammed with jewel-bright tulips, their heads nodding stiffly on their stems. There was that sense of a playhouse...a secret den...childish things that he’d been aware of as a boy but which he’d never fully experienced. His childhood had always felt peripheral to his anxieties, his anger, his shame.
He put the plate down on a chair, then it was two strides to the hand rail. There was some movement on the bridge now, random bicycles, early-morning pedestrians, the city getting itself into gear. Soon it would be thronging; so different from their peaceful walk through the dawn. Except that it hadn’t been completely peaceful...
Mia’s intentions had been good—trying to focus him on the positive aspects of his past—but he was done with looking for positives because there weren’t any. Yes, he’d inherited his love of science and maths from his father, but it wasn’t his intellectual legacy that kept him awake at night. It was fear and anger. Fear of who he was inside; fear that Bram would never get better. Anger with his father for being so weak, so brutal; for leaving him with such a cocktail of anxieties and insecurities.
Outside of MolTec, who was he? For pity’s sake, he couldn’t even choose furniture or paint colours. He didn’t blame Bram for getting sick, but Bram’s illness had changed everything. For the past eight years, practically all he’d thought about was getting Bram better, keeping him out of harm’s way until he was strong again. Watching his brother slide backwards over and over again had only fed his anger, made him hate his father even more. The only positive thing to have come out of it was MolTec, because expanding the reach of the business, building the brand, had been a blessed distraction from all his inner turmoil.
He leaned on the rail, stared into the water until the choppy glints of sunlight turned into bright blurs. Madelon had warned him not to keep secrets from Mia, but for some reason he was struggling to tell her about Bram...and it wasn’t because Eline had hurt him so badly over it. He knew Mia well enough now to know that she’d never be like that, yet still he couldn’t find the words. When it came to his brother, his head was a maze. Blind alleys of fear, shame, disappointment, heartbreak, Bram in the middle of it. If he could find his way through it all somehow, separate everything, then maybe he’d be able to...
‘Cleuso!’
Mia’s indignant yelp spun him round. She was in the doorway, holding two coffee mugs. He followed her gaze, nearly choking on own his laughter. Cleuso was standing on the chair making short work of the sandwiches.
She lifted her eyes to his. ‘I told you to watch out for marauders!’ She was trying to look cross.
‘I’m sorry.’ He wiped his eyes, struggling and failing to look apologetic. ‘I got distracted.’
She put the mugs down on an upturned plant pot, shooed Cleuso off the chair then handed him the plate. ‘You might as well stick it on the roof for the birds. We can’t eat it now.’
He held in a smile and did as he was told. ‘I thought cats were carnivores.’
She rolled her eyes and made a little tutting noise. ‘You had one job...’ Her lips twitched into a smile. ‘I should make you walk the plank.’
He stepped in front of her, cupped her face in his hands. ‘I’ll make it up to you somehow...’ He leaned in and kissed her slowly.
‘Hmm.’ Warm hands slid to the back of his neck. ‘You could make it up to me in my cabin...’ She pulled him in again, ran her tongue along his lower lip. He felt heat kindling in his belly, spreading to his chest, surging through his veins. He imagined her cabin... Cosy...confined...the sound of the water on the hull...the sound of her sighs... She pulled away again, nuzzling his nose with hers, and then she smiled impishly. ‘Hold that thought...’
Mind-reader!
She sat down and reached for her coffee. ‘I’d have caught Cleuso sooner if Ash hadn’t called.’ She took a sip and then her eyes widened. ‘He was very excited to hear about Madelon!’
His heart stumbled. He’d forgotten about Ash: the potential repercussions of Ash knowing that Madelon was his sister. A wave of weariness washed over him. All he’d wanted was to sit with Mia, enjoy her company, but now there was yet another fire for him to fight. How had his life become so complicated?
‘Are you okay?’ She was staring at him.
‘Of course.’ He sat down beside her and picked up his coffee. He took a slow sip, trying to calm his racing heart. ‘Mia, do you remember what I said at the fundraiser about keeping my involvement with Saving Grace private?’
‘Yes.’ She looked puzzled. ‘What are you saying?’
He moistened his lips. ‘I’m saying that I’d also like to keep the connection between Madelon and myself private. I don’t want anyone to know that we’re related.’
She frowned. ‘So you didn’t want me to tell Ash?’
‘It’s fine for Ash to know, but he can’t tell anyone else.’
‘Why? Why does it matter?’
He was relieved that she knew something of his history. It meant his explanation would stack up. He set his coffee down on th
e deck. ‘For the same reason I keep my charity work private. In the wrong hands, facts can get twisted. I don’t want to expose the rest of my family to the wrong kind of scrutiny. Bear in mind our background, Mia. A deadbeat father, so drunk that he cycled in front of a tram and killed himself. Why do you think Madelon changed her name?’
Her eyes held him softly. ‘I’m so sorry about your father, even though I know you’re not.’ She put her mug down and slipped her hands over his. ‘To be so lost, to be so beyond help... I find that very sad.’ For a beat she looked away and then her eyes were on him again, recognition flaring. ‘It’s why you didn’t want to go over to Madelon that night, isn’t it? You didn’t want to be seen with her, photographed with her?’
‘Partly.’ He laced his fingers into hers. ‘But it was also because I didn’t want to leave your side.’
Her expression softened momentarily but then she was frowning again. ‘I don’t think people would care about your background, Theo. Quite the opposite. I think people who’ve conquered adversity and go on to become successful—they inspire others.’
‘You’re right, but we’re not talking about people generally.’ A knot tightened in his stomach. ‘We’re talking about the press. The media loves to destroy its icons. Fred Zucker—remember him? Cricketer, role model, patron of his own charity for young people. Fighting gang culture through sport. He’s a friend of mine; a thoroughly good person. But he had an uncle who’d been engaged in dubious activity with young boys. When the press found out, Zucker’s whole family was dragged through the gutter. There were insinuations that Fred had known what was going on...’ He disentangled his fingers from hers, rubbed the back of his neck. ‘The sins of the fathers, Mia. They come back, especially if there’s money to made out of it.’
‘It’s a minefield.’ Her tongue touched her bottom lip. ‘So...what about Lotte?’
His heart stumbled again. Last night she’d mentioned Lotte... He’d been going to talk to her about provisos but then they’d gone to watch the stars. He tried to keep his voice even. ‘Does she know about Madelon?’
‘I haven’t told her anything about you.’
Relief washed over him.
‘But I wanted to offer her a shoot, remember, to go with the interview piece...?’
‘You can still offer her a shoot. Just don’t tell her that Madelon’s my sister, okay?’
‘But... Lotte’s my friend.’ Her brow furrowed. ‘How do you live like this? Where do you draw the line with who can know what? Doesn’t it drive you crazy?’
If only she knew. Suddenly his head was pounding. Since Eline there’d been no one, and now he remembered why he’d sworn off relationships. Being close to someone widened the circle, made everything much more complicated. More than anything, he wanted to be with Mia, but at that moment he needed space; needed not to be answering questions. He got to his feet. ‘It’s hard, yes, but it’s just the way it has to be.’
‘Are you leaving?’ She rose from her seat, putting her hands on his forearms. ‘I thought you wanted to see the cabin...’
Her gaze was open, traces of pain and confusion behind her eyes. His chest tightened. The thought of hurting her frightened him more than anything, but he couldn’t stay. He was suffocating. Direk was coming to the house at eleven to talk about ideas for the sitting room. If he bent the truth a bit, he could spare her feelings.
He took her face in his hands. ‘I do want to see the cabin, but Direk’s coming over with paint and goodness knows what else. I’d completely forgotten about it until now.’
Her eyes searched his, turning him over, and then her gaze softened. ‘Don’t let him talk you into black, okay? I’ll text you a photo of my dress so you can show him the colours you like.’
He kissed her softly. ‘He knows the colours already, but send me a photo anyway...of yourself.’ He tasted her lips again, felt desire thrumming in his veins. ‘Something to keep me going until I get back.’
Her eyebrows arched. ‘Are you objectifying me?’
That was her gift—the way she could make him smile even when his head was throbbing. ‘Of course not. I’d never do such a thing.’
CHAPTER TEN
HER PHONE WAS VIBRATING. She stopped typing, glancing at the unfamiliar number before swiping the screen. ‘Hello? Mia Boelens...?’
‘Mia! It’s Eline... Eline de Vries.’
Her heart stalled. ‘Hi!’ She cleared her throat. ‘How nice to hear from you. Lotte said you might be calling.’ She gritted her teeth, trying to breathe calmly.
‘There was no might about it! I loved the Dilly and Daisy write-up you did, and I’ve been devouring your blog. It’s terrific!’
‘I’m glad you like it.’
‘So...we need to meet! I know the event’s a while away, but I have to plan well ahead because of my schedule. I like to be organised.’
Mia glanced at her open journal. Ticks, asterisks, underlining. Being well-organised was in her DNA so she couldn’t hold it against Eline freakin’ de Vries. ‘I’m the same.’ Her professional instincts must have kicked in because she was speaking competently evenly though her heart was throwing shapes in her chest. ‘When do you want to meet, and where?’
‘Could you make this Friday? Early evening, at my apartment? I hope you don’t mind but it’s easier that way. Public places can be a nightmare... I’m sure you understand.’
‘Of course.’ Going to Eline’s apartment was the last thing she wanted to do, but she couldn’t argue. Lack of privacy was the price of fame. No wonder Theo kept a low profile. ‘Where’s your apartment?’
‘It’s near the river but I’ll send a car for you. Shall we say six?’
We had an apartment near the river.
She swallowed hard. Had Eline got their apartment after the divorce? Was that the apartment she’d be going to—Theo’s former home? Her stomach churned. ‘Sounds great. You’ll want my address...’
‘Lotte gave it to me already. Totally cool, by the way, living on a barge.’
‘It is.’ Eline’s friendliness was throwing her off-balance.
‘So... I’ll see you on Friday evening, then?’
‘Yes. Great!’ She swallowed hard. ‘Bye for now.’
Heaviness tugged at her chest. She slumped back in her chair, rolling her phone over and over in her hands. She didn’t want to meet Theo’s ex, didn’t want the job, but she was committed because of Lotte. How on earth was she going to get herself out of this mess?
For the past week she’d been turning things over in her head, trying to come to terms with Theo’s paranoia about his family’s privacy. After he’d left her on the barge that morning, she’d sat for a long time considering what he’d said about Ash, Madelon and poor Fred Zucker. His words had been calmly spoken, flawlessly logical, but he’d been tangibly edgy, his finger tapping the side of his mug, tightness in his shoulders and around his mouth. His body language had pointed to some deep-rooted internal anxiety and, when he’d said he had an appointment with Direk, for a second it had felt as if he was running away; running scared.
She’d wondered if he was leaving to avoid her questions, had even wondered if he was telling the truth about meeting Direk, but there had been an appointment. He’d come back with photos on his phone: pictures of the colour patches Direk had painted on the walls—damsons, ochres, and olives—and a hand-blown glass vase that Direk had brought because he’d thought it would work well on the sitting-room mantelpiece. And then she’d felt guilty for doubting him.
So the dust had settled. There’d been dinners out and early-morning walks. Star-gazing in the dome followed by long nights in his bed. Or in her bed, with watery moonlight glancing through the cabin windows. He’d told her a little about his mother—a librarian, he said, living a quiet life on the outskirts of the city. And he’d told her about Madelon—how she’d used to make up plays with her dolls, do
ing funny voices, making them laugh. Happy memories.
She’d told herself that in time these little glimpses would form a picture, that if she was patient he’d show her what he was hiding inside, trust her with all the things he found so hard to talk about. And she’d told herself that when that day finally came she would put her heart on the line and tell him that she was in love with him.
But Eline’s phone call had just changed the landscape.
When Lotte had first told her about the job with Eline, she’d resolved not to tell Theo about it, but now that the moment had arrived there was no way she could keep him in the dark. She didn’t want to hide anything from him. She switched off her computer and got to her feet. Telling him about the Eline situation would surely make him see that he could trust her, and maybe he’d be open with her in return, tell her more about what had happened between him and Eline. Perhaps this curve ball would actually be the making of them...
She pulled on her jacket and contemplated the grey sky through the window. Clouds storing up rain. That was Theo...storing rain. If only she could make him see that, for him, she didn’t mind getting wet.
* * *
The doorbell jangled. Theo startled then stilled, listening to the sound of the door being opened, the weighty clunk of it closing. Only two people had a key, and Direk was in Utrecht.
‘Mia?’
He felt a glow of happiness as her voice ballooned up the stairwell. ‘Hello-o-o! I’ve brought you something!’
He saved his work and coasted his chair away from the desk. He hadn’t expected to see her until the evening, but he didn’t mind the interruption. She was his favourite distraction. He started down the stairs, light-hearted, loose-limbed.