An hour of small talk went by. I carefully avoided finding myself alone with Liam, made sure I paid attention to Nate, looking at him intently when he talked, touching his arm or his leg when I spoke, acting the perfect wife.
I had to admit Nancy was fun, regaling us with stories about when she’d worked as cabin crew for British Airways before she’d had Zac. And all her tales had the right amount of self-deprecation and perfect timing of the punch lines.
She finished off another anecdote “...and that’s why we never gave him peanuts again.” Liam laughed. I expected him to put his arm around her, which would have instantly made the green monster within me snarl, but he didn’t and I secretly cheered. Nancy didn’t seem bothered. “Sit next to me at dinner, Nate,” she said, “and I’ll tell you how I broke my nose while surfing the aisle on a serving tray.”
“Great,” Nate said. “You can tell me now because the food’s ready. I’ll get Sarah.”
The nine of us settled around our chunky wooden dining table, with Rosie and Rachel sitting in the purple-and-green plastic booster seats Lynne and Paul had brought with them. The dishes with salad and mashed potatoes were passed around. Nate served everyone barbecued steak that smelled hot and spicy, and made our mouths water.
“Jamie Oliver’s already texted me for the deets,” Paul joked. “He said it smells wicked. But Ramsay told him no fu—I mean, frigging way.”
Liam sat next to me, and our hands touched for the briefest moment each time I passed a plate to him. I wanted to put my hand on his leg, rest my head on his shoulder and whisper a private joke into his ear. I imagined standing up, shouting out loud we’d been lovers and still would be, if only things had been different. But instead I sat still, anticipating each touch, trying to find reasons to hand him the mash a third bloody time.
Nate sat opposite me, and when our eyes met he winked and I smiled back, hoping he wouldn’t see through the cracks in my expertly plastered facade.
“Can I go?” Sarah said after finishing her food. “I’ve got homework to do.”
“’Course you can,” said Nate. “I’m sure we’ve already bored you enough.”
When she disappeared upstairs Nancy touched Nate’s arm, leaning toward him as if she were about to share a secret. “She’s beautiful. And polite.”
Nate laughed and I had to join in. “Thanks.”
“She’s got your wonderful charm, Nate, but she looks like you.” Nancy pointed a finger at me. “Sorry, Nate. It’s probably because she’s a girl. Everyone says how much Zac looks like Liam. Same eyes, you know?”
I opened my mouth, feeling the need to justify. “Well, I—”
Nancy cut me off. “Didn’t you want more kids then? You’re such great parents.”
Nate looked at me, and I could tell he was about to jump in and save me like he usually did. But I stopped him. “I can’t,” I said.
“Oh.” Nancy covered her mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“There were complications.” I cleared my throat. “Placenta previa, you know, when the placenta covers the cervix?” Nancy opened her mouth so I pressed on before I could change my mind. “We planned a C-section because of it, but I went into labor.” I was talking quickly now, the words tumbling out. “We almost lost Sarah. Actually, they almost lost me, too—”
“God...”
“—and I had a hysterectomy.” I exhaled. “So, there you go. That’s why we only have one.” Everybody was staring at me, including Liam, but I didn’t dare look at him, so I smiled instead and focused on Nancy, deliberately blocking out everybody else. “Did you two ever think of having more kids?” I picked up a dish. “More salad?”
“Uh, that’s the mash,” Nate said, taking the plate from me.
I laughed, then saw Nancy’s shoulders drop, too. “No,” she said. “We only ever wanted one, didn’t you, Liam?” He can’t have noticed the unmistakable jab because he nodded without taking his eyes off me. Then Nancy said, “I’m so sorry about what happened to you. How awful.”
“I’ve never heard Nate so panicked,” Paul butted in. “When he called me from the hospital and—”
“Okay,” I said, holding up a hand, “let’s not get overly dramatic. It was—”
“The worst day of my life.” Nate looked at me, and for a moment everybody around us disappeared. “The birth of your child is supposed to be one of the best, but it was...horrific.” He reached over the table and grabbed my hand. My throat tightened; I couldn’t breathe. I suddenly wanted to wrap my arms around him and tell him I was sorry. For everything.
But Nate grinned as he looked around the table. “Then again, we don’t exactly have a history of making things easy, do we, love?”
“Oh, do tell.” Nancy leaned in toward Nate again. “I’m intrigued. I bet it was romantic.”
“It’s nothing,” I said quickly, frowning. “We—”
“You know how most people meet at a bar, work or, nowadays anyway, online?” Lynne said, nodding toward Nate and I. “Well, these two lovebirds met at a car crash.”
I had to stop the conversation. “Who wants—”
“No way!” Nancy said, eyes wide. “Did you bump into each other or something?”
Nate opened his mouth, but Paul wagged a finger. “Oh, no. My brother, the hero, came across Abby’s burning car and pulled her away. Saved her life.”
I held up a hand. “I’m sure that nobody wants to—”
“Seriously?” Nancy’s voice went up three notches. “When I said I bet it was romantic, I didn’t think it would be dramatically romantic. Nate, you’re a dark horse, aren’t you? How interesting.”
“Nancy,” Liam said, “you shouldn’t—”
“Well, don’t leave me hanging,” Nancy said as she ignored Liam and turned her back on him. “Tell me what happened next. Was it bad? How did—”
“Nancy.” Liam’s voice was loud this time, loud enough to make everyone stop talking. He smiled at her. “Where did you put the dessert?”
She stared at him. “Kitchen,” she sniffed, and sat back in her chair with her arms crossed.
“Well,” Liam said without missing a beat, “dinner was really delicious,” and everyone around the table murmured their agreement.
“You were right, Paul. That’s the best steak I’ve ever had. You’re an amazing chef,” Nancy said, obviously recovered from her scolding. “Thanks so much.”
“Don’t thank me,” Paul said. “One of my exes was American.”
“Just the one?” Lynne laughed, an eyebrow raised. “Nancy, I think you’ll find my husband has toured the US without even setting foot on the continent, if you know what I mean.”
Nancy almost spurted her mouthful of wine over the table. She turned to Lynne. “You’d better tell me more or you’ll forfeit your piece of apple pie.”
“I’ll help you clear the table,” Liam said quietly as he pushed back his chair.
When Nate reached for one of the dishes, I shook my head and said, “You know the rule. He who cooks the most clears up the least. It’s okay, we’ve got it.”
“More beer or wine, anyone?” Nate asked, looking around the table.
Nancy’s and Lynne’s heads bobbed up and down in unison, and Paul added, “Another Stella for me, please.”
“I’ll get it,” Liam said. “Fridge, right?”
“Thanks,” Nate said, then turned toward Paul and mentioned something about Zurich.
I picked up more plates and headed to the kitchen, acutely aware Liam was two steps behind.
“Thank you for stopping her,” I said. “I—”
“Abby,” Liam said. “What you said about Sarah’s birth. God, I can’t imagine... I...” He exhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look. I know this is hard, but we need to talk.”
I turned away, set the dishes down next to th
e sink and put my palms flat on the counter. “Why? There’s nothing to say.”
“There’s plenty.” He was behind me now, his hands on my shoulders, gently turning me around.
I looked up at him, my head tilted to the side. I remembered when we first met, standing in the middle of Rowley’s and how everything—Dwayne, the crowd, the music—had become a distant buzz. All that had mattered at that precise moment was him and me. Us. And here we were again, this time in my kitchen, with everything around us fading to black.
I wanted to kiss him. Instead I cleared my throat. “I’ll fetch more dishes.” He let go of my shoulders, so I deftly stepped past him and went back to the dining table.
Nancy looked up. “Do you need any help?” Her voice had a slight slur I hadn’t noticed before, and her cheeks had taken on a pinkish sheen.
“Yes,” Lynne added, her eyes shiny, too. “At least let us give you a hand with dessert.”
“No, no. Stay put. Liam’s helping me anyway. You two keep Nate and Paul company.”
“Okay, if you insist.” Nancy smiled slowly, and I headed to the kitchen, where Liam was opening a bottle of white wine.
“We’ve finished two already,” he said as he pulled the cork out. Then he put everything down and swallowed hard. “You’ve been hiding.”
I lifted my chin. “With good reason.”
Liam stared at me for a moment. “Yes... So, uh, have you ever been back to the Cotswolds?” When I didn’t laugh he said, “Shit. I’m sorry. I can’t believe how nervous I am.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “When Nancy said Nate had invited us over...” He shook his head. “I wondered what plausible fake illness I could come up with.”
I managed a small laugh this time. “That makes two of us, I—”
“Liam.” Nancy walked in, looking at Liam, then me with a sugary smile. “We’re parched out there.”
“I’m coming.” Liam picked up the bottle of wine as he walked over to Nancy. She grabbed his free hand and smiled at me before leading him out of the room.
I realized how fast my heart was beating, so I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, before opening them again when I heard someone come back into the kitchen.
“Forgot the beer.” Liam pulled a Stella from the fridge, then moved so close I could almost feel his breath on my cheek. “Can I see you tomorrow?” he said quietly. “Please?”
I leaned in toward him, our fingers almost touching. “It’s Easter, and with Paul and Lynne here...”
“So when?”
“I don’t know, Liam, I—”
“Monday? In the morning? Or lunch?”
“It’s a bank holiday.”
He swore under his breath. “Tuesday then. Let’s talk, okay? We have to.”
I looked at him. He was right. We had to have a conversation that forced us—whether we wanted to or not—past this awkward stage. I grabbed my mobile from the counter. “What’s your number?”
He rattled off the digits, and I swiftly entered them in my phone. Then I sent him my details, all the while wishing my heart would slow down, and chastising myself for feeling like a giddy schoolgirl who’d been asked out on her first date.
“I’ll call you Tuesday morning.” Liam smiled at me. He reached out and gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, then turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving me standing among the dirty dishes, my skin tingling where his fingers had been.
When I felt my legs and hands were steady enough, I put Nancy’s perfectly baked apple pie on a tray, added a jug of custard, some plates and spoons, and joined the others. Sarah was at the table again, and now Zac was seated next to her. They leaned toward each other, engrossed in conversation, their body language screaming too many things I didn’t want to hear. I let go of the tray a little too soon, and it clattered onto the table.
Zac looked up. “Hello, Mrs. Morris.”
I smoothed down my hair. “Zac.” My face must have looked like a cross between an overly eager door-to-door salesman and a knife-wielding psychopath. “You’re just in time for dessert.”
“Cool,” Zac said as he turned back to Sarah. “Mum’s apple pie is sick.”
I watched as they closed themselves off from everyone again. Returning to a conversation in which nobody but them had a place. How long had I been out of the room? And since when did those two enjoy each other’s company? I feigned interest in another of Nancy’s stories, half registering how she touched Nate’s arm for the third time in under three minutes. As I nodded and made the occasional “uh-huh” noise, I listened to the conversation between Sarah and Zac, trying not to look at them.
“What’s the scoop for the school newsletter this month?” Zac said, and when Sarah didn’t answer he added, “Come on, throw me a bone.”
“If you must know,” Sarah said, “it’s about being LGBT at our school.”
“Really? Why?” Zac said, and I was glad he’d spoken before me or they’d have noticed how intently I was listening.
“Because it’s important, duh!” Sarah said. “We think it’s accepted, but it isn’t. People get bullied all the time. Like, a few weeks ago a kid got beaten up on the way home. Three guys jumped him, called him a faggot and almost sent him to the hospital.” Her voice got louder, so I turned my head to look at her, noticing how red her face was. When she saw me staring I quickly looked away, and she lowered her voice. “It’s disgusting.”
“Right, uh,” Zac said, “how does your...girlfriend feel about you writing it?”
Girlfriend?
Sarah sounded equally surprised. “Sorry?”
Zac cleared his throat. “Isn’t that why you’re doing the article? Because you’re gay? Isn’t Claire your girlfriend?”
“Claire? No,” Sarah said. “But if she was, would you have a problem with that?”
“’Course not,” Zac whispered. “None of my business, is it? And I don’t have a problem with that stuff.”
“That stuff?” I sneaked another glance. Sarah leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Okay, Zac, what would you have done if you’d seen the kid being hurt?”
He didn’t hesitate. “I’d have stopped it. Or at least tried to. I’ve done it before.”
“What do you mean?” Sarah gasped. “What happened? Tell me.”
Zac laughed. “You’re sensing a story, aren’t you? Okay, I helped a kid at my last school. Thirteen-year-old. Same thing. A couple of idiots beat him up because he was gay. So I gave them a taste of their own medicine.”
“Wow.” Sarah sounded breathless. “Did it work?”
“Yeah.” He snorted. “And I got suspended.”
“But that’s not fair!” Sarah said.
“Well,” Zac said, “according to the headmistress, I should have asked a teacher for help.”
“But—”
“I know. Like I was going to run and get a teacher while a kid who’s already on the floor gets the shit kicked out of him.” He snorted again. “I don’t think so.”
“What did your mum and dad say?”
“They argued with the headmistress, defended me—”
“Well, that’s great—”
“—but I got suspended for three days anyway. And afterward I got notes shoved in my locker. Threats and comments about how I’m a gay lover, that kind of crap.”
“Unbelievable. That’s not why you moved, is it?”
Zac harrumphed. “Please. I have a black belt in tae kwon do. At that level they do stuff behind your back, not to your face. Cowards.”
“Can I interview you about this?” Sarah asked. “Properly, I mean? For the article?”
I hoped Zac would say no, but he answered, “Sure. I don’t mind.”
When neither of them spoke for a minute I thought their conversation had petered out, and Sarah would go back to thinking he was an idiot
, but then he said, “Uh, I’m going to Manchester University next year. Computer science.”
“Cool,” Sarah said. “I’m going to be a journalist.”
“Shocker. And, uh, are you really a gamer? I mean a proper one.”
“Yes, a proper one.” Sarah’s tone flipped back to indignant. “So?”
“Nothing,” he said quietly, “it’s...cool. Different.”
I waited for Sarah to challenge him, ask him to explain what he meant, as I knew she would have done had I made that remark. But instead she said, “It’s because of Dad. We used to play all kinds of stuff on the Wii. Chick Chick Boom was my favorite.”
“Chick whaty-what? Never heard of it,” Zac said.
“You’ve never...” Sarah pushed her chair back. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
My heart thumped loudly as I watched them leave, remembering the emotional roller coaster I’d leaped on when I was Sarah’s age and a boy showed interest in me. Nate said something about getting coffee, and I stood up and crossed my fingers, silently praying Sarah wouldn’t start hiding her diary somewhere else.
NOW
NATE
EASTER SUNDAY HAD been filled with egg hunts in the garden, mountains of chocolate and way too much other food. Now Paul and I were almost the last men standing. Abby was still up, doing some work in our bedroom, so I played a couple of games of pool with my brother.
“Great night yesterday,” Paul said, accidentally potting the white again, and I couldn’t help feeling a tiny bit smug. “Your neighbors are fun. And I still think you should watch out for Nancy. She was all over you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I laughed. “She’s just one of those touchy-feely people.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Paul said. “But I don’t know what you meant about Abby being grumpy. She seemed fine to me.”
I frowned as we sat down. “Didn’t you think it was out of character, you know, how she brought up the hysterectomy?”
He shrugged. “Not really. It was traumatic. Women talk about that kind of stuff. And speaking of traumatic, sorry again that I didn’t tell you about the Zurich job before.” I looked at him with one eyebrow raised, and he held up his hands in self-defense. “I wasn’t sure I’d get it, okay? Or that I’d take it.”
The Neighbors Page 13