“I took care of the week-old baby that my mother had died for. I had to – I didn’t know much about babies, but I knew my father wasn’t going to do anything. I think he always wanted another son – after my brother left.
“He’d come home, and expect his dinner to be on the table. I made sure that it was. I don’t know if he’d have started hitting me – I know I looked like my mother, and was filling her role in many ways. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he did – but he never got the chance.”
This was the most honestly, the most frankly she had ever spoken to anyone. And yes, it hurt, more so than she could possibly have imagined, but a tiny part of her felt a little bit better, for being able to tell someone about all of this. The only problem was that the next bit was the bit that showed her in a bad light…
“The doctors had warned him, my mother had warned him, but he hadn’t listened. He came home one night clutching at his chest, screaming at me that he was having a heart attack.” Her eyes were no longer on Zach, and she now decided to close them again.
“‘Are you stupid?’ my father screamed, ‘Call an ambulance.’ And I just stood there. He lunged for the phone – I grabbed it. This was my justice for him killing my mum – I hadn’t thought about it, or planned it, but it seemed fairer than him possibly ending up in a cell and then being let go, or getting away with it all together. And the opportunity presented itself.” She felt Zach’s fingers tighten slightly around her hand, but she pressed on; she had to get it all out, now that she’d begun.
“He was on the floor, trying to grab the phone – and I ran, up the stairs with it, and chucked in the sink, turning the water on full blast and putting in the plug. I heard his shouts downstairs, weaker now. I waited ‘til the phone was immersed, then went into the bedroom, picked up the now crying Abby, and held her to my chest.
“The police turned up to arrest him two days later. They found him first – dead, at the bottom of the stairs. Then they found me and Abby, in exactly the same position as we’d been that night.
“And then they found the phone. Several psychiatrists, social workers, care homes, foster families and years later…here I am.”
Her eyes stayed shut, unsure how on earth he could be taking this. She just told him the two biggest issues of her life: that her father had killed her mother, and that she’d practically watched her father die – let him die. And she expected him to hang around? She must have been mental to tell him: who wanted to date a psycho? What seventeen-year-old wanted a fifteen-year-old girlfriend with all that behind her?
Love or no love, there was no doubting that was what she was – and she was expecting the impact from her story any minute. Probably in the form of him asking her to leave, which she thought was most likely, or just getting up and leaving himself. Whatever, it would all be easier if she kept her eyes closed – and that would teach her not to tell her secrets.
The arms wrapping round her waist were unexpected but welcome – but she wasn’t sure if he was moving her off the sofa, or holding her closer. She still did not open her eyes.
“I’m sorry.” A whisper in her ear, and her heart sank; she knew what was coming next. The apology for saying that his love wouldn’t be changed by her story, because, actually, this was too much for him to cope with. The apology for it all being over. She knew it was childish, but her eyes remained closed, so she could have his arms around her just for another minute, without accepting that she’d just ruined it all. There was another reason, too: Imogen Meyer didn’t cry, and she knew she was in danger of doing so if she wasn’t careful.
“Thank-you. For telling me. But I’m sorry you had to; I can see how much it’s hurting you.”
Wait a minute. This wasn’t what she’d expected. This didn’t sound like he was about to run out the door. She dared to open her eyes, once again against her instincts, very slowly. He gently tugged on her body, until she was no longer leaning against his chest, but against the arm of the sofa. Her legs were now draped across his, and she could see his face.
“Look, if you want to end this, then you can, don’t feel like you can’t because you said you woul-“
She couldn’t continue speaking, because a soft, gentle, sweet kiss silenced her lips, just for a second.
“I’m not going anywhere. And I’m not ending anything. I meant what I said earlier.” Zach’s eyes backed up his words: they looked a little taken aback, but not overwhelmed. Zach had, true to form, taken the whole story in his stride. He took hold of her hand once more.
“Do you really think your past can change what I think about you? After what he did, no-one could blame you. I just can’t believe you had to go through that. I guess I can understand more why you and Abby are so close now. An orphan at a week old…that’s gotta be tough.” He mused over what Imogen had just said, but showed no signs of going anywhere.
“You don’t think I’m sick?” Imogen half whispered. “Hearing myself say all that stuff, out loud…” She swallowed. “I don’t sound like the most stable person.”
Zach shook his head, with a slight smile on his face. “Of course I don’t. And can you stop looking so surprised – I’m really not going anywhere! Or, you’re not going anywhere – this is my house, after all.” And then she couldn’t help it – a small smile played on her lips, because she’d told him, and he’d stayed. There’d been a moment of sympathy, of pity, but that was over now, and they were just Zach and Imogen again.
“Thank-you,” she whispered, and the weaker, vulnerable side of Imogen was clearly on display. But she didn’t care – because she could trust him with that. His arm snaked round her waist once more, pulling her into a close hug, and she responded this time – both her arms wrapped around his neck, and she pulled him closer. They stayed that way for a while, in a rare moment where they were both emotionally vulnerable. The romantic image was still there: girlfriend and boyfriend, holding one another in a close hug. But there was so much more to it…
When the hug was finally broken, they were both smiling. “Whoa, got a bit intense then!” Zach joked, and Imogen felt able to smile wider at that, despite all she had just told him.
“I know, we’d better watch out – we’ll be a serious couple next!”
“I can’t see that happening any time soon.” It was amazing, the way they slipped into their usual banter after so much…intensity really was the only word.
“So, do I need to walk you home, considering it’s nearly midnight, and we want to avoid you being grounded for the foreseeable future?” Zach asked, with a sigh. Imogen shook her head.
“No – she won’t be grounding me. I told her Evangeline was having another sleepover – she’s not expecting me back ‘til morning.” A grin spread across Zach’s face, as he relaxed back into the sofa, now that he didn’t need to rush in order to avoid Imogen being grounded.
“Remember her first sleepover?” Zach asked, with a glint in his eye. Imogen definitely remembered – their first kiss. Pulling herself up from her position against the arm of the sofa, she recreated that first sleepover – her lips grazing against his. It didn’t take him long to join in, his careful yet strong grip on her hand moving to her wrist, pulling her gently until she was sat on his lap, in a much easier position to kiss him.
He could sense her smile even through their kiss, which started off slow and delicate. However, an urgency invaded on both their parts, as they twisted closely together, their tongues entwining gently but with that same urgency. It was hard to explain, this sudden desperation that had flooded their kisses, but it was, Imogen reasoned, probably down to them both realising the depth and strength of their feelings. They proceeded in much the same way as they always did when they were alone and kissing, despite the added urgency to their actions, ending up laying down in the sofa, kissing as if it was their first – or last – kiss. It changed, then: Imogen realised what he wanted, what she wanted, another reason behind the sudden need filling their kisses. And as she removed his shirt, and he
removed hers, she knew she had it all: love, and lust – the perfect combination.
***
If Imogen could have been described as innocent beforehand, then she had definitely lost her innocence by the time she woke up the next morning. She was tired, and a little achy, due to sleeping on a sofa and – a small smile played on her lips as she thought about it – the previous night’s activities. But this was all in a good way – in a way that made her wake up with a smile on her face, as she felt Zach’s bare chest rise and fall with the heavy breaths of sleep beneath her head.
Pulling the blanket that had somehow ended up over them a little higher to keep out the cool air, she closed her eyes to the morning sun, in the knowledge that Evangeline wasn’t due back until that evening, and so would not be walking in on them, and wondered if she deserved to be this lucky; this happy.
Chapter Twenty-One
It was another three hours before they were both awake, and this time it was Zach who woke up first. The sunlight, though not necessarily very warm, was still streaming through the windows, brighter than it had been when Imogen had first opened her eyes. It was only a moment or two after Zach had woken that Imogen opened her eyes again, and saw him smiling.
“Morning…” she murmured, stretching her legs out a little beneath the blanket, and shivering involuntarily as the cold air hit her feet. The sun may have been streaming in, but it wasn’t doing an awful lot to warm up the house.
“I think we’re heading for afternoon, actually…” Zach said, with a grin that Imogen was pleased to see. Despite his acceptance last night, his confessions of love, there was still some part of her that wondered whether what she’d said would sink in, and he’d be off. She knew she wouldn’t be able to blame him if he did, and yet she desperately hoped he wouldn’t. At the moment, however, as his arm around her waist pulled her closer, he didn’t appear to be going anywhere. She was grateful for the warmth, and didn’t protest – not that she would have done even if she hadn’t been cold.
“I hadn’t realised we’d slept that long! What time is it?” she asked, glancing at her wrist and realising it was bare. Seeing her watch was not there, she knew immediately where it was: she was useless at remembering to put it back on after she’d showered, and she remembered taking it off the previous morning and placing it on the bathroom windowsill, where she assumed it still was.
“Five to twelve,” he informed her, stroking her hair absentmindedly. “I guess we’d better get up, in a minute.” His addition was reluctant, and Imogen was pleased that he seemed as displeased about having to get up as she did. But she knew they had to: Evangeline, Ella and homework ensured that. Nodding and sighing at the same time, she pulled herself gently from his arms, the blanket wrapped around her. She hadn’t forgotten that neither of them were wearing anything; although she wasn’t exactly embarrassed, she couldn’t help but blush a little as she ferreted around for her shirt, and he lazily picked up his underwear.
“Seems a shame to ruin this weekend by ending it with writing an essay, doesn’t it…” Zach commented, referring to the French essay they both had due in for the next day, which, of course, neither of them had yet started.
“Hmm. Well, I’m not gonna deny it’s ended up being a pretty fantastic weekend, but I wouldn’t say it was entirely perfect,” she answered, pulling on her jeans.
“Really?” Zach was curious, as he pulled on his own jeans too, but didn’t bother with his shirt.
“Well, all the stuff I told you…hardly the stuff of romantic novels, is it.”
“Imogen.” His tone was a lot more serious now, and he placed a hand on her arm, until she looked at him. “Stop looking so scared I’m going to run out the door. You won’t get rid of me that easily, you know.” He allowed himself a smile, and Imogen couldn’t help but smile back: after all, she was extremely happy, and his good mood was infectious.
“All right, all right, I’ll have to think up some other elaborate plan to get rid of you then,” she joked, wishing she didn’t have to go home. But she knew that Ella would be expecting her back by one at the latest, and she didn’t really want Eve to return and see her in the house. Eve hadn’t exactly been informed of Imogen’s plans to stay over – not that Imogen had planned the night before, but she had told Ella she was staying over, so that she would be able to stay out as late as she wanted without fearing grounding. She wasn’t sure what Eve would have to say if she found out Imogen had stayed over, and, frankly, didn’t want to know. Everything was too perfect to be ruined.
At the door, Imogen and Zach kissed goodbye, without wanting to leave each other. Imogen realised that Zach had been right: it had been a pretty perfect evening. She’d told him her past, got it all off her chest, and now had no more secrets from him; he hadn’t run away, told her she was sick or that he never wanted to see her again. All in all, a pretty successful evening – and that was without taking into account everything after that.
“See you tomorrow then.”
“Yep, in the hell-hole once more.” Wrapping her scarf securely round her next to keep out the February winds, she walked hastily back to the Kingsleys’ house. No-one was surprised as she walked in and went straight to find Abby: that was expected.
***
Ella had, in fact, been quite surprised at the way Imogen hadn’t seemed to enforce her strict rules regarding who could look after Abby that had been the pre-requisite of the adoption.
While Imogen still did a lot more for Abby than Ella would ever have expected of her, or asked her to do – she was, after all, for all intents and purposes now mother to both the girls, and therefore they were her responsibility – she wasn’t her sole carer.
A lot of that was, in Ella’s opinion, due to her relationship with her Zach, and the new friends she had made. Despite her feelings of dislike towards Zach (feelings she couldn’t really justify – perhaps it was just a natural reaction to a guy like Zach dating her ‘daughter’) she had to be thankful to him for that. Imogen needed to live like a teenager, and was finally doing so. Having read the notes on her behaviour in her past homes, she had been surprised at how few problems she’d really had settling in with the Kingsleys. She allowed Ella, and during the day, Millie, to share the care of Abby, and was happy to leave her for the odd evening, like the night previously.
Would Imogen have been more difficult, not have settled in, had it not been for Zach? Ella wasn’t sure, but she was happy she didn’t have to find out – her family’s expansion seemed to have been successful.
She’d worried about the fact that Imogen and Sara were the same age, but although they didn’t seem to get on brilliantly, there weren’t any major problems; often the two fought just like sisters would. And Abby was such a hit with Dana, it was like the two had grown up together. Daisy, too, seemed happy with the additions to the family; William liked Imogen and Abby, and Millie just liked to disapprove of people.
The problems that Ella had worried about, almost anticipated, with adopting an older child, and one who had had problems settling in the past, had not occurred. She knew just a little of Imogen’s past – scrawled social workers’ notes, a brief police report; it was all very impersonal, and she wondered if she would ever be able to ask Imogen about it. She’d been through so much at such a young age – Ella wondered if, even if Imogen had been an absolute nightmare, she’d have been able to blame her for it.
After playing with her little sister for a while, Imogen had headed upstairs for a shower, and to change into some clean clothes. She hadn’t noticed the night before, but it wasn’t just her watch that she’d left at home – her phone was still on charge, on her bed-side table. Flicking it open, she was informed she had one new message.
Hey! Fancy coming round later this afternoon? Eve x
She smiled wryly to herself: sure, that’d be easy to explain – how, having supposedly spent all night and morning with Eve, she was going back round. She texted back a quick excuse (homework, which wasn’t actually a lie
) hoping Eve wouldn’t mind too much, and locked herself in the bathroom for a nice, long, hot shower.
***
Whilst many would have thought that Imogen did deserve the happiness she was currently feeling, there was one person who seemed determined to ruin it – although he didn’t manage to that morning.
Jack rang, yet again. Yes, he was determined – determined to speak to his sister. He failed yet again, as Sara had informed Ella of Imogen’s wishes, and so Ella made up a lie and hung up quickly. She was going to have to tackle the problem with Imogen at some point, but was loath to do so. She seemed so…happy.
Instead, she decided a shopping trip was needed. Abby was growing fast, and needed some new clothes (her current ones were starting to look a little too small), and she was also looking for a new outfit.
Although she hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, she’d been seeing Braden quite regularly since the wedding, and they were due to go out again the following weekend. She thought, too, that Imogen might like some new clothes – and she wanted to see what sort of things Imogen liked, as it was her birthday at the end of the next month. Pondering whether or not to ask Sara and Daisy along too, she knocked on Imogen’s door.
Family Portrait (Kingsley Family Trilogy Book 1) Page 18