by Annie Dyer
I shrugged. That sounded like a good plan anyway. “What about the kids? Who’s looking after those?” I also wouldn't mind babysitting; it wasn't something I actually found a chore.
“Eli’s parents arrive tomorrow, and his sisters. Plus, Victoria’s not drinking still, and Payton's not. The idea’s to get Ava to relax. You could always ask Georgia to join us.”
“Ask her yourself.” Claire was definitely trying to meddle.
“I might just do that.” She gave me a wicked grin that made me stifle a shudder.
I passed Niamh back to her and carried on swimming, my head full of a certain redhead wearing a white bikini, for my eyes only.
Marie Callaghan was a difficult person to avoid, so I figured I’d done a pretty good job by keeping out of her way for the first four days of the holiday. I'd seen her at the mealtimes that we’d shared together as a family, and a handful of times when there’d been a few of us sat round the pool, but so far, I'd managed to avoid being on my own with her.
Everyone else had gone back to their rooms for a shower or a late afternoon snooze. I'd already spent most of the afternoon asleep on a sun lounger, and then I dived in the shower before everyone else, having realised that there was only so much hot water and that Callum still liked to use up most of it in one of his forty-five-minute showers.
I sat at one of the outside tables, with my shades on, and a paperback thriller in front of me. I liked reading, to the extent where I’d toyed around with the idea of writing a book - it was just finding the time. I'd started reading this book this morning, and other than taking a nap I hadn't been able to put it down.
I didn’t notice my mother coming towards the table until it was too late. If I’d seen her, I’d have dashed away with the excuse I suddenly needed the bathroom or I had the sudden urge to pray – not that she’d have believed that.
But I definitely wouldn’t have been still sitting there, easy pickings for her to dig into about the prospects of finally marrying me off.
“I know you’ve been avoiding me, Joseph.”
I pretended I hadn’t heard her.
“And I know you haven’t gone suddenly deaf, either.”
Where were my siblings when I needed them to interrupt?
“Sorry, Mum, what was that?” I waved my book at her. “It’s really good, this.”
She sat down opposite me, putting a martini down in front of her. “I’m sure it is. How’s Georgia?”
“And she cuts straight to the point, blade sharpened.” I folded the corner of the page where I was up to and put my book down. “She’s good. In Spain at her mum’s.”
“Why isn’t she here?”
I knew that my mother already knew exactly what had happened. There was no way she’d left me alone this long unless she’d already found out enough.
I let out a long sigh and braced myself. “She wanted to slow things down. She thought things had gone too fast.” I talked her through the conversation.
My mother said little, just nodding and sipping at her drink. She and my father were going out for a meal by themselves tonight, leaving the rest of us home, cooking up random dishes between us and making an inevitable mess that would have her shouting at us when she got back.
Some things never changed, no matter how old we were or where we were in the world.
“But you haven’t split up?”
“No. We’re talking tonight. We’re texting. I guess I’m just worried that we’ll end up being friends and, well, nothing more.”
She nodded. “And you still want more with her?”
“Yes. I want everything with her.” It was easy to say the words aloud now I’d spent so much time thinking about it.
“Have you told her?”
I shook my head. “I never found the perfect moment, and now it’d just sound desperate.”
“Joseph, there’s no such thing as the perfect moment. Your father proposed to me in a lift. One he’d pressed the emergency button, so we were stuck together and I had to listen to him.” She smiled, her eyes lighting up with the memory.
“How long had you known each other before he proposed?”
“Ten days. We argued – in and out of court – and went for dinner together, and I won’t tell you what else we did…”
“Please don’t.”
She smiled at my predictable reaction. “Sometimes when you know, you know. And sometimes, knowing can scare you. I saw the way Georgia looked at you, and I don’t think she’ll want to put you in the friend court.”
“Friend zone. It’s called the friend zone, Mum.”
Her eyes danced and I figured I was being toyed with.
“Still, I don’t think that’s what she wants. She’ll just be worried about what could happen if you split up, and I get that.”
“Did Dad have the same worries?”
My mother laughed. “No. I don’t think he did. I don’t think he thought about the what ifs because he wasn’t worried about being cautious. He didn’t have anything left to lose by that point.”
“But Georgia has.”
She nodded. “She’s constructed a very careful life for her and Rose, and she’s worked bloody hard. On her own. Something serious with you isn’t just about the possibility of it not working out, it’s also about changing what she has to be, because you’ll be a partner. She’s used to doing things on her own.”
“She’s amazing.”
My mum’s hand – the martini free one – landed on my arm.
“You need to tell her that. Be clear. Don’t do that typical man thing of thinking we’re telepathic. We’re not.”
There were footsteps behind us that made us both turn around.
“Marie, where did you leave my belt?”
My father stood there, holding up his pants.
Mum shook her head and looked to the sky. “I’ve not left it anywhere, Grant. Where did you put it?”
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be asking you.”
She stood up, muttering something that sounded very Irish under her breath and probably contained a few unintelligible curse words.
I stood up and headed to my room, wanting my phone and the privacy to make a call.
Georgia answered on the third ring. I heard Rose in the background, giggling happily, and Olivia saying something about ice-cream. I wanted to be there, and I understood a little now how Max felt when he was away from Victoria and Lucy during the day.
“How are you?” It was a lame way in, but I needed to build things up here.
She laughed softly. “Good. Just talking to my sister about you. We were talking about birth marks.”
“You didn’t tell her where it was, did you?”
Another laugh. “No. But she tried to guess. How’s bridezilla?”
“Currently cross-checking a spreadsheet with a list. I think Eli’s going to throw everything in the pool later. Including Ava.” I’d passed them as I’d walked to my room; they were sitting on their balcony and Eli was trying to persuade her to just relax.
“If that happens, film it. What are you up to?”
And there was my in. “Missing you.”
There was silence.
Shit. I’d said the wrong thing. She was on a different page.
“I miss you too.”
Everything inside me swelled. “Thank god for that.”
“I’m sorry I hurt you when I said I needed to slow things down. I was panicking.” Her words spilled out in a rush.
“I was worried you wanted to end it. I thought that Cassie had scared you off.”
“She almost did. I miss you. A lot. When we get back home, we’ll talk. I need to know where you want this to go. If it’s the same as me.”
“When we get home?” Why not now? I wanted to ask. Why wait?
“You have a lot going on. I don’t want to crash Ava’s big day.”
“Okay. When we get home. I’ll try to wait till then.”
“Thank you.” There was a shout behind
her. “I’d best go. I think Rose is about to push Liv in the pool, and Liv’s about to go out on a date with the bartender. I’ll text you later.” There was another shout, then a hurried goodbye from Georgia.
I stared at my phone for a minute after the call ended, then fiddled around with the settings on the camera.
Standing back, I worked out where I needed to be to get all of me the frame and took three photos. I checked over them once, tried not to over think things, and then sent them to her.
I’d finally said my piece.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Georgia
I didn’t show Olivia the pictures at first. They were mine and I wanted to keep them that way, at least until I was absolutely certain about what I was going to do.
Seph was unique; I’d figured that the first time I met him, and the more time I spent with him, the more I realised he wasn't like anybody else I'd been out with before. The last few weeks had felt strange as if somebody had told me I couldn't use my right arm, when it was actually perfectly fine to use. I wondered if this was how Franciscan monks felt when they took a silence, frustrated and caged in.
It had been like I'd been on a diet. Where you were depriving yourself of all the things she liked best, only to later come to the conclusion that it was making absolutely no difference whatsoever.
I could carry on with the analogies; there were tonnes I'd thought of in the last few days, all questioning why I'd made this decision to slow things down with Seph. Instead of watching my sister cavorting on the beach with her bartender, I could have had Seph with us, rubbing suntan lotion into my back, laughing with Rose in the sea. Rose had asked after him at least three times a day. She’d brought her atlas with her, and she'd worked out the rough distance between where we were and where Seph was. There was no point in saying to her that he was at a family wedding, because she'd spent enough time with Payton and Claire in the last few weeks to know that they liked her.
“What is it that you keep staring at?” Olivia tried to peer over my shoulder to see what it was that was looking at.
I moved my phone away, wanting this to just be for me, not wanting to share it at the moment, because when I did my sister was going to throw a party.
“Nothing.”
“No such thing as nothing.”
It looked like we were in for one of our petty squabbles that took us back to when I was four and she was six. We'd never quite grown out of them.
“That's what Mum always said. Why are you copying Mum?”
“I'm not copying Mum. Let me see your phone!”
I moved it further away from her. “Don't you have some bloke to fawn over?”
Olivia scowled, and I could see exactly where Rose got that expression from.
“He's busy.”
I looked over to where he was sitting, and noticed that he wasn't busy at all. In fact, all he was doing was staring at his phone.
“Don't tell me you're bored of him already?”
Olivia tossed her head slightly, reminding me of a pony in one of Rose’s cartoons. “I think we’ve run our course.”
“Okay then.” I rolled my eyes, Olivia-style. “So, who’s next?”
She eyed me. If looks could kill, it’d definitely maim me.
“I’m taking a vow of celibacy. Like you.”
“I’m not celibate.”
“I don’t see you sneaking off for any afternoon delights while me and Mum are around to look after Rose, do I? Even though you could’ve.” She stretched out like a cat. “You’ve pretty much opted for a celibate life.”
“I haven’t. I’ve spent the last six months in a relationship!”
“Hmmm. With an amazing man, who adores you and your daughter, doesn’t mind that you’re work-obsessed and who likes Chinese food a little too much. One who even tolerated you thinking that Buffy the Vampire Slayer was comfort food and watched it with you.”
“Exactly.”
She shook her head. “But you’ve given him the brush off.”
I wanted to say that I hadn’t, but that would be a lie.
“We’re still together.” I was telling myself more than her, although I had photos that told me we were something more.
“Because he’s got the patience of a saint. Seriously, what’s the issue?” She rolled onto her stomach. “I still don’t get why he stopped being around all of the time. And neither does Rose. Did he do something you haven’t told me about? I have the money to hire a very good hitman.”
“Thanks, but no. He didn’t do anything.” I groaned. “I felt we’d moved too quick and I was worried that we’d end up rushing into something we weren’t ready for, so when it ended, Rose and I would be heartbroken.”
“I get that.”
I sat up. “What?”
“I get why you’d think that. The sperm donor was such a twat, it’s predictable that you’d associate all men with being like that. And Dad was hardly man of the year.”
“Shit. I thought you were about to go postal on me.”
“Oh, I still think you’re an idiot. And arrogant.”
“What?” It wasn’t the first time Olivia had called me an idiot. But arrogant was a new one.
“Thinking you know him better than he knows himself. Making a call on his behalf without talking it through. I’m no relationship expert…”
“No, you’re really not.”
“Thanks for that. But, back to my point, if you’d talked about it, you might’ve realised that the speed you were going was the right one for both of you, and you both wanted to get off at the same destination.” She started to giggle.
“What’s funny?”
She chuckled again. “Get off. You know, get off…”
“You’ve got the maturity of a thirteen-year-old boy sometimes.” I shook my head, my attention taken by Rose who was playing some game that involved running around with a child she’d met today.
I barely noticed my sister’s arm stretch out and swipe my phone from next to me.
“Olivia!” When did murdering your sister become illegal?
She didn’t say anything, just unlocked it and scrolled through my messages. Her pause told me she’d found the pictures.
“This is what you’ve been staring at?”
“I’m not sure what you’re looking at, so I don’t know.” I decided to be obtuse.
“Sod off, Georgia. You know damn well what I'm looking at.”
“You shouldn’t be looking at anything. It's not your phone.”
She smiled, and looked a little too delighted. “I think this is the sweetest thing I've ever seen. You need to put a ring on it and lock this one up.”
“You realise that if you ever heard a man saying that you'd accuse him of being an old fashion sexist pig, especially given that you've always refused to ever get married.” My sister thought she was an out-and-out feminist, when in fact she was just argumentative. I knew from having observed her watching Disney films with Rose that she'd definitely be wooed by a Prince who managed to say the right things and look pretty.
“It doesn't matter right now what I think, what do you think he's telling you in these photos.”
I knew what he was telling me in those photos. The first one was of him standing with his back to the pool, the evening sun behind him, and his hand pointing to his chest. He was grinning goofily, his stubble just a little bit too long, and his T shirt possibly a little bit too tight, not that I was complaining.
The second photo was of him again in exactly the same position, but this time his hands were cupped together to make a heart. His head was slightly tipped back, and his grin was wide.
The last photo was like the first but this time instead of pointing at himself he was pointing at me, or whoever was looking at the photo, so basically yeah, me.
Put together the three photos told me something that I wasn't sure I'd been ready to hear. Seeing it was a different matter. I could look back, check that I wasn't imagining things and study them for
any meaning that might not be obvious. But each time I came to the same conclusion: this was about a lot longer than now, and it wasn’t his gestures that told me, it was the look in his eyes. I saw laughter, joy, the giddiness that made him Seph, and love. Every time I looked, I saw the same thing.
“Georgia, why are you still here?”
I sat up. “What?”
“Why haven’t you gotten your baby, packed a bag or two and driven over there?”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t have an answer.
Three hours later I was in my hire car, Rose strapped into her booster seat and the soundtrack to Frozen blasting through the speakers. She’d been so excited she’d nearly burst when I’d told her we were off to see Seph, although some of that excitement had been down to him being in a castle. He was a prince, after all, or so she thought.
It was exactly a ninety-minute drive, just long enough for me to have given it a second thought before leaving, but not far enough for me to give it a third. Worst case scenario was that I’d misread things and he didn’t want me there after all, in which case I was close enough to turn back round.
It was a hot day, the sort made for lounging by the pool with a tall cool drink of water and a steamy book, but that didn’t matter. I might’ve been in a tin can of a car with a four-year-old who was belting out songs like she was Anna from Frozen, but I was a woman on a mission. Every mile I completed made me a mile closer to Seph, the words I wanted to say bubbling up inside me, waiting to erupt.
“Mummy, why are you driving so fast?”
I hadn’t noticed she’d stopped singing. I turned down the volume on Anna.
“I’m not, sweetie…” I glanced at the speedo. I totally was.
“Then why are you going slower now?”
Why did I have to have an observant child?
“Because I thought you’d want to look at the scenery.”
I kept my eyes on the road, but I couldn’t not notice the narrow look she gave me, where once again, she looked just like my sister.