I felt my skin go cold. If Brett had gotten the clip I’d meant to send to Carrie, then what had Carrie gotten? And what had she done with it?
No. No, that wasn’t possible. My best friend wouldn’t take something I’d sent her in private and post it for the entire world to see.
No.
Without another word, I scrambled up off the floor and ran down the passage. Someone’s jacket hung next to the door. Didn’t matter whose it was. I grabbed it and pulled it on, shoving my way outside. It was too snowy to ride the motorbike, but I didn’t care. It was still the fastest way I knew to get across country to the village.
“CARRIE!” THE BEDROOM light’s subtle glow in the upstairs window told me she was home. At least I wouldn’t have to chase all over the village looking for her. I pounded on the door.
“Mac.” Mr. Crombie blinked at me, roused from his program on the telly as if he’d been roused from sleep. “A happy holiday to you. We’ll see you at the bells, yeah?”
“Of course, Mr. Crombie.” I gave him a quick kiss. “We’re expecting all of you. Dancing starts at eight, with supper at ten.”
“You’ll find Caroline upstairs, plugged into some bit of wiring.”
“Thanks.”
When I pushed open the bedroom door—painted white on the corridor side and purple on her side—I saw Carrie stretched out on the bed, eyes closed, playing air guitar with her earbuds in.
I grabbed her foot and shook it, hard. “Carrie. Take those out and talk to me.”
“What?” She yanked them out and stopped the song. “What are you doing here?”
“You have to tell me something.”
“Did Dad let you in?”
“Of course. D’you think I broke in through a window?”
“Wi’ you, a person never knows.” She pushed herself up against the headboard, careless that her boots left streaks on the coverlet. I looked round the room. It looked as though a tornado had hit it. It had always looked like that, but when we were best friends, I’d seen the order in the chaos because I’d known Carrie’s mind.
When we were best friends.
Somehow, the fact that I couldn’t read her mess anymore woke me up. Carrie and I weren’t best friends anymore. Just friends. Maybe not even that. Had I really grown away from her so quickly? Or had it been coming on for a long time and I just hadn’t wanted to admit it?
“So, are you going to tell me what’s up, or are you just going to sit there staring?” She reached for a crumpled bag of crisps and hunted through it. Only salty, oily crumbs remained at the bottom, so she tossed it on the floor.
“A couple of days ago, I sent you a bit of video. But I think I sent you the wrong clip. Do you remember what it was?”
She shrugged and looked away.
Bingo, as the girls up at my house would say.
“Carrie, was it a clip of Shani Hanna saying she was a princess?”
Another shrug. “I don’t pay much attention tae rubbish about your American friends. I thought it was going to be something juicy about your braw new lad.”
“I don’t think Anna Grange thought it was rubbish. Did you see London Calling tonight?”
Color crept up the side of her neck and tinged her ears. “No. Dad’s had the telly on some stupid movie.”
“So you haven’t happened to see the music video that Blue Bella made out of that clip? Do you have any idea what this has done to Shani?”
She rounded on me like a cat whose tail has just been stepped on. “And what do I care what your stupid American friends feel? Or you, either? You’ve moved on, haven’t you, and left your old mates behind.”
“I have not. You’re still my friend.”
“But it’s no’ the same, is it?” Her eyes, ringed with mascara and purple shadow, filled. “We were better friends when we were Skyping across the ocean. Now that you’re here, ye have no’ got even a minute for me.”
“Carrie, for Pete’s sake, I’ve been putting together the Hogmanay party. We’ve been working like dogs.”
“We would have come up tae help. But you’d rather swot through housework wi’ them than let us through the door. Even Gordon said so, and it takes a lot tae make him notice anything.”
“Gordon just wants to pop down the cellar steps and see what Dad’s got cooking down there.”
“That’s not true.”
“Carrie, just tell me. Did you send that clip on to Anna or not?” She shrugged, and I knew she had. “Do you have any idea what this is going to do?”
“No, and I don’t care.”
“If you had an ounce of compassion, you would care. Now poor Shani is going to get barraged by the media.”
“Oh, the puir thing. She should keep her mouth shut about her stupid prince, then.”
“She wasn’t talking about the prince at all, you ninny. She was talking about God.”
Blank stare.
“It’s a Christian in-joke. About being a princess in God’s eyes because you’re part of His family.”
Her mouth fell open in complete incomprehension, then snapped shut. “Dinna tell me you’ve become a Bible thumper.”
“No, of course not.”
“You sure sound like it. They’re all Christians, aren’t they, those girls? Every one.”
“So am I, in a different way. And Dad.”
“Just because you fill the family pew on a Sunday doesna mean you’re a Christian.”
I blinked, hardly able to give her credit for this shrewd bit of observation. “Well, maybe not, but at least I know right from wrong. And spreading something that was meant for you alone was wrong.”
“It wasna meant for me. I thought it was supposed to be something about your new laddie. So where was the harm?”
She was never going to get it. But her stage was no wider than this village. Her prospects went no further than winning a place at university, which I knew for a fact she had no intention of doing. She was going to stay right here until she and Gordon decided they’d better get married, just for something to do.
And my stage? It was international. I knew exactly how much harm that video could do, spiraling up out of this village and spreading like a storm to wreak its destruction on shores as far away as Yasir and California.
I had to get home. Shani would need all the help we could give her for damage control.
I turned to the door. “I’m off, then. Good-bye.”
But she’d already put her earbuds back in and closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see her former best friend leave.
THE TRIP HOME, sometimes riding and sometimes pushing the bike, was a lot slower and colder than the trip in. Had I really used to bike or ride this distance with so little effort that the two miles were gone in a blink? Of course, doing it at night, in the snow, was a different proposition than on a warm summer’s day.
The fringe of the woods marked the one-mile point. I plunged into the dark grimly. Of course I knew every step of the way—every rock and bush growing across the path. But with the pines blocking the moon, the going was slow, and keeping the bike in the track it had made half an hour before wasn’t easy. On the steepest slope, I had to be careful because the rear wheel kept sliding out from under me.
A light glimmered through the trees, bobbing and weaving. “Lindsay!” a male voice called. “Mac, is that you?”
I coasted to a stop and shut off the ignition. “Alasdair? What on earth are you doing out here?”
“Looking for you, obviously.” A dark shape materialized through the trees, half illuminated by the torch. Then it slid wildly sideways.
“Watch it!” I helped him to his feet and brushed snow from his jacket. “Puddles. They must have frozen.”
“I can’t believe you’re out here on a motorbike. Are you crazy?”
“I had somewhere to go.”
“The girls are freaking. Your dad had to hold Carly back from the door by main force.”
“I’m fine.”
“Yes, I
see that.” He picked up the bike where it had fallen over and began to push it down the path. “But they don’t know it. They think you rushed out to do yourself harm or something.”
“If you’d let go of my bike, I’ll ride home and tell them it’s all right.”
“Not a chance. No, don’t grab. We’ll walk home together.”
“Yes, Dad.”
He handed me the torch and ignored that. “Make yourself useful and shine this ahead of us, will you?”
“You’re the only one who needs it. I know these woods like the back of my hand.”
“Maybe so. But you still gave everyone a fright. What was so important out here in the freezing dark, anyway?”
Old loyalty fought with new. For about five seconds. “I had to find out who sent that clip of Shani. And I did.”
“Who was it?”
“I don’t want to say. It’s too late now, anyway. But I gave them an earful and I think I’ve lost a friend.”
“Ah.” Silence while our feet crunched and slopped through the snow. “I’m sorry to hear it.”
“I suppose I should have expected it. She’s been jealous of the girls for months. It must have seemed like a fine joke to play when I sent that video by mistake. She sent it to Anna, and the band made hay with it. And now all you-know-what is going to break loose.”
“Maybe it won’t. Who pays attention to all those celebrity gossip programs?”
“Everyone.” Did he live under a rock? “Including St. James’s Palace.”
“Let’s hope you’re wrong.”
“Meanwhile, the girls all think I sent it off on purpose.” I sounded miserable, even to myself.
“And did you?”
“Of course not! I mixed up the clips. I was in a hurry and made a mistake. That’s all.”
“I’m sure when you explain it to them, they’ll understand.”
“Maybe they will, but that won’t make anyone feel better. Especially if the tabs get ahold of it.”
“The tabs are always barking after something. Someone else will make a mistake and it’ll all be forgotten in the rush.”
“I wish I could think so.”
It might be five degrees below zero, and my feet in my trainers were soaked, but the rest of me felt warm. Maybe it was the physical effort it took to stay upright on this path, but I thought it was probably the fact that Alasdair had come out in the dark and cold to find me.
And now here we were, completely alone. Who knew what might happen?
“This person who sent the clip away,” he said. “She was a friend, you said?”
“Not anymore,” I replied with a sigh. A rock turned under my foot, and I grabbed his arm for balance. He waited until I was upright again, and we walked on. “I think I’ve grown past her, if you want the truth.”
“Are you okay with that?”
“I suppose I’ll have to be. I’ve known her all my life. We have a history I can’t just erase.”
“I don’t think anyone expects you to. But people grow. They change. It’s normal to leave some things behind and reach out for other things.”
Something in his voice made me glance up at him. “Is that what you’re doing? Leaving things behind?”
“Maybe.”
Urgh. Just like a guy. All wisdom and maturity about your problems, but ask him about his and he shuts up like an oyster.
“It must be difficult to leave your mum and your family and simply not see them.”
“Are you always this blunt?”
I could feel the cold on my cheeks as I smiled. “Yes. Get used to it.”
“Is that an aristocrat thing?”
“No, you eejit. It’s a friend thing. We agreed, remember?”
“That’s right, we did. If you have to know, I don’t go home because there isn’t a home to go to. My Christmas present from my sister was a telephone call to say my mother is in detox. Jane is busy with her family and is in denial about said mother. My dad died when I was young. He was a city worker and was electrocuted working on the wiring at the council building.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, utterly inadequate.
“It was a long time ago. So can you blame me for wanting to stay here? Gabe treats me like an equal, even though I’m not, and your parents have been enormously kind. And I know Lissa quite well, so I feel like I do have friends here. And then there’s you.”
“Me?”
I barely stopped myself from clutching my forehead in despair. Idiot! Is that all you can say? Why can you trade witty remarks with princes at ambassadorial balls and society parties, and you can’t manage more than monosyllables with a guy who’s taking the trouble to really talk?
“Yes, you. Friends, right?”
“Yes,” I managed.
Who wanted to be friends? Well, I did, but I wanted so much more than that.
Maybe this was the point at which a grab and kiss would be totally appropriate. His hands were full pushing the motorbike. He’d be defenseless. Hmm.
“What do you want, Lindsay?”
Of all the monosyllables in the world, there was only one that mattered at this moment, in this place.
“You,” I said.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: December 30, 2009
Re: Thought you should know
Hi Rashid,
I’m at my mother’s in London for New Years. I’m sorry our paths didn’t cross in Italy—she would have loved to meet you. It still cracks me up that you own a village in Tuscany. We drove through on our way to Paris, but I didn’t see you, ha ha!
Not surprised to see that your ex has been a busy little bee lately. I mean, even though you and I weren’t meant to be, you still have a place in my heart and I care when people talk about you. Especially when it’s not true.
Please take a look at www.londoncalling.co.uk/episodes/cgiset=12-29-09. I mean, I think I deserve an explanation if this was going on when we were together. I’d be very careful about playing me for a fool, if I were you.
Kisses (and you know you miss them),
Vanessa
chapter 16
THE BIKE’S TIRES crunched to a stop in the snow, but I couldn’t see a thing outside the splash of light from the torch. Only hear. Alasdair took a breath. Then another.
Oh, help. He wasn’t going to answer. Or worse, he was thinking up a “let her down easy” reply. I swung the light up to illuminate his face.
“Ow! Put that down.”
“Sorry.”
Was that all he had to say? Put that down? What was I, a golden retriever? Could I just fall into the dark now and never come out?
“No, it’s me who’s sorry. I didn’t mean to shout. Look, let’s push on.”
After dredging up every ounce of courage I had to say that one word, no way was I letting it go to waste. I might never get this chance again, so I couldn’t let the moment slip past to lose itself in the dark. I fell into step beside him.
“I meant it, you know.”
“I know you did.”
At least he had the grace not to play dumb. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
The bike crunched to a stop a second time and we faced each other over the seat. “What do you want me to say, Lindsay? You’re seventeen. I’m twenty-one. You’re an earl’s daughter. I’m the son of an electrician and a boozer. You live in a castle and everything I own would fit in a box.”
“So?”
He snorted and jerked the bike into motion again. “So you figure it out.”
“What does all that matter, if we like each other?”
“Oh, I like you just fine. Certainly too much for your dad, who would take me out into the orchard and shoot me if I laid a finger on you.”
“He would not. I’ve been kissed by men lots older than you.”
A thirty-seven-year-old duke, to be exact. Married, too. But he’d been drunk and I had it on good authority that he still had a scar on his inste
p where my Louboutin heel had pierced both trouser cuff and sock.
“Yeah, well, they probably weren’t his guests, and here under the wing of someone he calls a friend.”
We broke out of the forest, and the lights of Strathcairn glowed in bright squares above the trampled snow of the lawn. I didn’t have much time.
“Alasdair, it doesn’t matter to me what anyone thinks. There is something going on here with you and me, and I want to give it a chance.”
“What people think matters to me. I can’t afford for it to not matter.”
“But that’s—”
“It would never work.” At least he sounded miserable about it. “We live in different worlds. You’re going to go off and marry a prince or something, and I’m going to be a doctor and deliver babies in Caberton. Never the twain shall meet, so we may as well acknowledge it now and avoid all the drama, shall we?”
“But that’s exactly what—”
He fired up the motorbike and its back end slewed as he hopped on and gunned it up the slope. I stepped in a bank of slush to get out of range of the spewing snow, and the cold shocked me out of my dismay.
I’d show him. So he thought we lived worlds apart, did he? He’d find out soon enough that our worlds could collide in the very best way—that our dreams were more similar than he could imagine with the stunted view he seemed to have of me.
When I convinced Dad to let me change my program at university, and when I got him to agree with the hotel plan, Alasdair would see. But that was way out in the future.
For right now, I knew he liked me. I knew he wanted more than friendship, even though he wasn’t allowing himself to admit it. That was a place to start.
Carly met me in the entrance hall in a rush of relief. “Mac! We were so worried. Where were you?”
“I went to the village.”
“Shani and Gillian were so mad and I was just frantic. I thought something would happen to you before they got a chance to forgive you and—”
“What?” I tried to dam the torrent of breathless words. “Forgive me?”
“Yes, ’cuz they’re really upset and somebody from London already called about it, which made your dad upset too, and now there’s—”
Tidings of Great Boys Page 14