“Really?” David asked. “I thought—”
“My well-defined muscular body made me difficult to resist.” Will grinned. He touched soft flesh at her waist and his thumbs began to stroke.
Addie took a deep breath. “I—”
“We hit it off straightaway,” Will interrupted before she made up another terrible lie. “She handed me a bottle of water and looked at me with her fabulous eyes and I was lost.”
Addie smiled and Will thought again about her beautiful mouth and how much he wanted to kiss her.
She put her mouth to his ear. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? How am I going to explain you dumping me, when you’ve just said that?”
Will swallowed hard. Her breathing in his ear made him soft at the knees and hard elsewhere.
“David, let’s go and get dressed.” Lisa pulled his arm.
“In a minute.” David cocked his head and stared at Addie.
Will moved Addie so her body blocked the view of the front of his pants. He bent his head to whisper. “You want this to work? David’s suspicious. We have to kiss.”
She clutched his arms but she didn’t run away screaming. Will lowered his lips to her face, brushed them across her cheek, and sliding them down to the edge of her mouth, he kissed her. He didn’t have to bend his head far and thought how good that felt. He moaned as Addie’s arms tightened around him. Her tongue ran between his lips and slipped into his mouth. Will felt something shift inside him. As he pushed her against the wall, Will was vaguely aware of Lisa dragging David away.
Will wasn’t sure what he was doing. He had Addie pinned in front of him. They had their arms around each other. He was kissing her hard and she wasn’t trying to stop him. On the contrary, her mouth was as greedy as his. Why couldn’t this have happened last night? His knee pressed on her legs and when she let him separate her thighs, a bolt of desire shot straight to his groin. Will pulled away and looked at her. Her eyes had closed, her mouth emitting tiny panting breaths that hit his cheek. He groaned, sought out her beautiful lips and kissed her harder.
Addie ached. There wasn’t one part of her that didn’t want this. Only she wasn’t sure what this was. Her ears buzzed and white spots danced a crazy jig in front of her eyes. How come she didn’t know kissing was like this? The room reeled and she staggered. Her knees wobbled, but Will held her up, pushed her against the wall. Even so, Addie had to keep hold of him to make sure she stayed upright. Then his hand slid under her sweater to her breast and brushed her nipple. That was all it took. She gasped and shuddered as a fast, spiralling orgasm shot through her.
When she opened her eyes and saw the way he looked at her, she knew he realized what had happened. Her face flooded with heat. She lurched out of his arms and flew upstairs. Addie wanted to scream. They were supposed to be breaking up. In a few moments, David and Lisa would learn that he’d dumped her. Addie should have kicked Will’s shins. Instead, she had to explain the kiss. She slammed her door and leaned back against it. She could never explain that kiss.
There was a gentle knock level with her head.
“Addie.”
She stopped breathing.
“Addie.”
She slid down and sat on the floor with her back against the door, feeling as though she’d had her eyes closed her whole life. Then she burst into tears.
“Addie. Open the door.”
“Go away. Go to bloody Qatar,” she sobbed. “You don’t want me, so just go.”
Chapter Six
Addie sat on the couch waiting for David and Lisa. Will had wanted her and what had she done? Told him to get lost. She clenched her fists, forgetting she held a bunch of flowers. Originally purchased to brighten the lounge for Will, Addie hoped the recycled carnations might soften her mother. Unlikely now the stems bent at a right angle.
Lisa came downstairs looking flushed, David wore a smug grin and Addie’s lip wobbled. She didn’t need two guesses to know what they’d been up to. It could have been her and Will if she hadn’t panicked.
“You okay?” Lisa asked, looking at Addie’s eyes.
“Noah dumped me.” Addie gulped back a sob.
“What? Oh, you poor thing. Men are such bastards.”
“Hey,” David objected.
“You’re not a man yet,” Lisa teased.
“Why did he dump you?” David asked. “He looked as though he enjoyed sticking his tongue down your throat.”
Addie’s heart leapt high into the air from a springboard before it splattered onto concrete at the bottom of an empty pool. Maybe Will had enjoyed it, but he wouldn’t see her again. He hadn’t asked for her phone number or left his. The only lingering trace of him was the spicy aroma of his aftershave.
“What did you do?” David asked.
Of course, it had to be her fault, Addie thought. “Nothing. He’s moving to Qatar. Don’t tell Mum.” And her throat seized up. Tears welled again in her eyes. Will had been perfect. He passed the test. Not a single comment about her height.
Addie sat in the back of Lisa’s car, staring out of the window, on the way to her execution. She might have proved Noah existed, but now he’d dumped her, she’d be ripped to pieces. Not that her mother would be surprised, since Addie was plain, awkward, clumsy, rude, had big feet and no sense of style or colour. When all you heard were disparaging comments, you started to believe them.
Although Addie didn’t think she was plain, she knew she wasn’t pretty, not compared to Lisa. How could Addie’s boring hair and weird eyes compare to Lisa’s sleek honeyed locks and brilliant smile? At Bristol, any interest shown in Addie had been a ploy to gain access to Miss Beautiful. Addie was never more than second choice and when she stood up, no choice at all.
She’d reached the height of five-foot-eleven and three-quarter inches by age twelve and it was downhill from that point. School photos, arranged by height, were a particular humiliation. Only men’s shirts were long enough in the sleeve. She couldn’t wear trousers because the uniform ones hovered above her ankles, and she was stuck in flat, ugly shoes. There was nothing she could do about any of it. Short girls wore sexy high heels to make up for their lack of stature. Fat girls had proper boobs, bouncy orbs that moved seductively under their clothes and they could lose weight. Addie couldn’t chop several inches off her legs.
She’d been teased all her life and learned the hard way how to be best friends with herself. Now she kept a happy smile in place, except when she went home to see her mother. Addie took a deep breath of untainted air before she stepped over the threshold, knowing as soon as she walked in, she’d be gripped by an urge to kill herself.
The house sucked the life out of her. Dirt wouldn’t dare to settle. The carpets had vacuumed lines like a well-mown lawn. Plumped cushions were precisely positioned on two large sofas and every ornament had its place. The photographs lined up on the mantelpiece like dominoes were mostly of her father Silas and her brothers, just a tiny one of Addie, in which she was barely recognizable.
The rest of the family had already arrived. Addie noticed Sally and Miranda, wives of Finn and Hugh, had turned up. Usually they made their husbands bring the grandchildren on their own. Her mother came in from the kitchen. Addie stepped forward to give her the flowers and tripped over two-year-old Richard, who’d zoomed under her feet.
“Watch where you’re going.” Joan reached for the flowers instead of Addie. “Feet your size, you should take more care.”
Addie was certain that if aliens invaded and the first person they met was Joan Winter, they’d leave on the spot.
The flowers drooped in her mother’s hand. “White carnations. Thank you. Not struck on them, mind—they remind me of your father’s wreath.”
Her voice wrapped Addie in barbed wire. “Sorry.” She wondered if it would save time to hand out cards saying “sorry” the moment she walked into a room. Alternatively she could have it stamped on her forehead.
“So where is he?” her mother asked. “What path
etic excuse are you going to come up with this time? Another cow leapt in front of his car? Another snake bitten him? Make it good, Adelina. We could do with a laugh.”
Addie knew she was making a big mistake, but she went ahead and did it anyway. “He witnessed a fight, so he’s had to go and give a statement to the police.”
“And his mother’s ashes,” Lisa reminded her in a quiet voice.
“He’s gone to scatter them,” Addie said.
“And you hadn’t the decency to go with him?” Joan shook her head in disbelief.
Cue onset of a new ice age and her mother temporarily stopped speaking to her. Addie might have seen that as a good thing, but she guessed her tormentor was biding her time. She was right.
Addie steeled herself as she watched her mother inspecting her clothes. Joan wore a smart green dress, her grey hair in a tight bun. Addie’s brothers wore white shirts and ties. Their wives were in dresses. Even Lisa was in a skirt. Addie wore jeans and a sweater. She knew she was her own worst enemy, but after a lifetime of being forced to spend Sundays zipped into her best frock, with a velvet bow stuck in her hair, she now wore what she liked and what she knew would annoy her mother.
“Why on earth do you wear pale blue? It doesn’t suit you. Makes your face look blotchy,” Joan said.
No, that would be the crying.
“You should go for something patterned to take attention away from your height.”
While her mother professed to offer caring advice, Addie heard constant, wearing criticism. It had always been the same. No matter whether she’d fought or capitulated, her parents’ endless disapproval had moulded and contorted her. Her brothers had come in for similar treatment, but seemed to withstand it better than her. Addie wondered if she’d been starved of love because with three livewire siblings, there wasn’t enough to go round. She had no memory of being cuddled or kissed. Her mother had never said she loved her.
“Oh, look at Harry. What a clever little chap,” said Joan.
Two-year-old Harry was trying to untie his dad’s shoelaces. It hadn’t escaped Addie’s attention that Joan didn’t favour the boys over the girls, so it wasn’t because she was female that her mother didn’t love her.
All Addie’s nieces and nephews were nightmares. After returning to Leeds, she’d been lassoed as a baby-sitter, but since inventing Noah, she’d slipped out of the noose. Now she was unattached, she’d have to come up with another excuse.
“You’ll have time to baby-sit now,” Joan said.
Mind-reading was another of her mother’s skills. Addie was going away next weekend whether she could afford it or not. The boys were a pain, but Trixie and Honey operated as trainee agents of Satan. Addie hadn’t seen them since she’d arrived and guessed they were upstairs plotting to take over the world.
“Join in the conversation,” Joan ordered.
David had his mouth pressed to Lisa’s ear. Finn and Hugh argued about football and Sally and Miranda were betting over which of their sons would be the first to be dry at night. Addie had been brought up in a family where striving to do better than others was a way of life. Competition prizes were always being delivered—Lego sets, remote control cars, books and games. Finn, Hugh and David had joined football teams, fencing leagues, swimming clubs, army cadets. If there was an exam to take, they took it and their rooms had been full of trophies and certificates. Addie shied away from anything competitive, anything that might make her stand out. She made no effort, and drove everyone mad, especially her mother.
Addie felt her mother’s gaze land on her and tried to blend into the wallpaper. She should have gone for a pink flowered top.
“Hugh’s in line for a promotion. I don’t suppose—”
“No.”
“Surely you’ve been working there long enough to make an impression.”
Addie shrugged.
“A waste of an opportunity.”
It had been her mother who’d pressed Addie to take the job with Booth’s. When her father became ill and Addie returned home, the offer of an exciting position with a travel company run by a friend of her father’s had been the carrot. Bob Booth promised her a full-time job after a probationary period. He also offered her a dazzling career, exotic travel, rapid promotion and a competitive salary, none of which turned out to be true. Addie didn’t count accompanying coach loads of senior citizens as exotic travel. She knew she should look for something better, but her employment record wasn’t good. After university she flitted from one company to another, unsure over what she wanted to do and damned at a distance by her mother for every decision she made.
“Addie, go upstairs and tell the girls to wash their hands,” Joan said. “Please.”
The pair were in the bathroom, Trixie plaiting Honey’s long blonde hair. Little twisted strands entwined with what looked like toffee wrappers stuck out all over her head. When Addie looked more closely, she saw several toffees and winced.
“Time to eat,” she said.
“We haven’t finished.” Trixie pouted. “I haven’t done her highlights.”
“What were you going to use?” Addie asked.
“We found this in Grandma’s cupboard.” Honey opened her hand to reveal a tube of haemorrhoid cream.
Addie stifled a giggle. ”Wait ‘til after lunch. I don’t think you’d better use this without asking Grandma, okay?”
“Does my hair look nice, Aunty Addie?” Honey asked.
“Lovely. You look like a fairy princess.”
Honey went downstairs smiling, to be greeted with a wail from Miranda. “What have you done?”
“Aunty Addie said it looked nice. She said I looked like a fairy.” Honey started to cry.
“You look more like a Rasta-fairy,” David teased.
“I think you look lovely, sweetheart,” Finn told his niece.
“Thanks, Finn,” Addie said and her brother laughed until he caught his mother’s eye.
The Winter family sat around the large oak table for Sunday lunch. Addie watched her mother at a side table, piling a plate with mashed potatoes, a squillion sludgy sprouts and a thick slice of rare beef edged with soft yellow fat. Even as Addie hoped the serving was not coming her way, it did. There was not one item Addie liked—no peas, roast potatoes or roast parsnips and no Yorkshire pudding, though they seemed to be on everyone else’s plate. She didn’t ask why, not wanting a lecture about her needing to lose weight. Addie picked up her knife and fork and then put them down again. The smell of the sprouts and the sight of the meat made her feel sick. She was twenty-seven years old. She did not have to eat this.
“Delicious, Mum,” David said.
Addie hoped he choked. Finn rolled his eyes at Addie, and cut up his son Harry’s food. Addie wished she was sitting next to Finn who’d have eaten her meat.
“Auntie Addie isn’t eating her dinner,” Trixie said. “She doesn’t care about the starving children in Africa, Granny.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” chorused Trixie’s father and mother.
“She can’t have pudding, can she?” Trixie smirked.
“I want pudding now!” Harry pushed his plate away. He knocked a glass of blackcurrant juice all over the tablecloth and burst into tears.
“See what you’ve done,” Joan snapped at Addie, who sat at the far end of the table, nowhere near the disaster.
Addie took advantage of the flurry of activity to pass Finn her meat and sneak the rest of her meal into the kitchen, depositing the congealed mess in the bin. She turned to see her mother behind her.
“Not hungry? You won’t want pudding then,” Joan said.
Addie sat and watched while the rest of the family tucked into apple and blackberry crumble, and wondered not for the first time, if she was related to any of them. Her brothers were the image of their deceased father and had been taken for triplets on more than one occasion. The three looked like cuddly lambs, lots of curly fair hair, dark eyes and sweet faces. They’d followed their father lik
e sheep into the police force, but they all loved it. They looked nothing like Addie with her dull locks and weird brown-flecked eyes.
As a little girl, Addie imagined she was a changeling, a princess snatched from her loving parents by elves and stuck with the Winter family. When she’d grown out of fairies, she dreamt she was adopted and one day would be rescued by the woman who’d given birth to her, a mega-rich film star. Now she was old enough to accept she was unwanted and unloved. She just didn’t know why.
“So what did his mother die of?” Joan asked.
“That flesh-eating virus,” Addie muttered and was rewarded with a shudder of revulsion that went round the table like a Mexican wave.
“And he had to scatter the ashes today? Couldn’t he have come here first and then you could have gone with him?” Joan said.
Addie made another attempt to convince her. “I told you he had to go to see the police about the stabbing.”
Hugh and Finn looked at her and she knew she’d made another mistake. David grinned. The bastard.
“You said a fight. You didn’t mention a stabbing. Where was this?” asked Hugh.
“When?” from Finn.
“Who was stabbed?” from Hugh.
“Does it take all day to give a statement?” from her mother.
Aggravated beyond sense, Addie opened her mouth, inserted both feet, both hands and her last remaining brain cell. “Okay. I give in. He’s dumped me.”
Her mother broke the stunned silence. “You lied about the stabbing.”
“No. That happened.” Addie would never admit to lying. She recognized Pandora’s box when she saw it.
“He dumped you after that kiss?” David asked.
Addie gritted her teeth. She was going to kill him.
“So what went wrong?” her mother asked.
Not the simple enquiry it might appear. Addie knew she was asking why Addie wasn’t married to Noah, why their children weren’t winning prizes. Her delay in responding fed the fire.
Doing the Right Thing Page 5