by Tara Bond
I crossed the road to Alex’s apartment building. Instead of going through reception, and asking to be buzzed up, I went to the underground car park. I wanted this to be a surprise. I got into the lift and put in the code for the top floor.
I drummed my hand against my side as the lift went up. My heart beat harder as I got closer to his floor. It was a risk, of course. He might not be in. Or he might even have another girl there. But there was no turning back now.
The lift pinged, announcing my arrival, and the doors slid open.
I heard rapid footsteps. As the sound grew closer part of me wanted to get back in the lift and disappear. But before I could do that, Alex, barefoot, his hair mussed up in that sexy way I adored, rounded the corner.
I’m not sure who he’d been expecting, but he did a double-take when he saw me.
A look of happiness flitted briefly across his face—his initial, spontaneous reaction. Then he seemed to catch himself, remember how he was meant to act around me, and the smile was replaced with a frown.
“Why’re you here, Nina?” His tone was guarded, but I didn’t care. I was just happy to hear his voice again. I hadn’t realised how much I’d missed that clipped, upper-class drawl.
“I’m here to tell you that you were wrong.”
“About what in particular?” A ghost of a smile crossed his face. “There’s always so much to choose from.”
“About us.” I spoke firmly, refusing to let him put me off. “You were wrong about us.”
“Oh? I wasn’t aware there was an ‘us’ anymore.”
I followed him as he turned away and went into the living area. He took a bottle of whisky from the bar and poured himself a drink. I knew he was trying to pretend he didn’t care—like he had so many times before. But this time I wasn’t going to let him get away with it.
I took a step towards him, my eyes fixed on him, wanting him to know that I wasn’t leaving without telling him how I felt.
“You don’t believe I’ll ever trust you. You said that’s why we couldn’t be together. But you’re wrong.”
“Oh?”
“I did trust you. Even before I found out the truth about Giles.”
As I spoke those words, he went very still. “What do you mean?”
“At Jas and Hugh’s wedding. Remember when you asked me to wait for you so we could talk?”
“Yes, I do remember that.” His voice carried more than a trace of bitterness. “And from what I recall, my brother told you that I’d gone off to get high, and you believed him.”
I dropped my eyes for a moment, feeling my cheeks flushing at the memory. But then I forced myself to focus on the reason I was there. “You’re right,” I admitted. “At first I did believe him.” I took another step towards him. “But then, once we got into the car and he started driving, something kept nagging at me. I knew that something didn’t feel right.”
“Oh?” His blues eyes stared at me intently.
“And I suddenly realised that I didn’t believe Giles. Deep down, I knew that you would never have done anything like that—that you wouldn’t have broken your promise to me. I knew that I could trust you.”
I edged closer until I was standing right in front of him, wanting him to see the sincerity in my eyes, to know that every word I’d spoken was the truth. It was the only way I could convince him to give me—give us—a chance to be together.
I reached out slowly, hesitantly almost, and took his cool hands in mine. “When I realised something wasn’t right, I asked Giles to turn round. I wanted to come back and find you, because I knew you’d still be there, waiting for me.”
I saw surprise cross his face—followed by what looked like a flash of joy. And then it was gone, replaced by what I guessed was dawning horror, as he pieced together what had happened that fateful night. I sensed he was going to draw his hands away, but I held them fast, keeping my eyes locked on his, needing him to stay with me while I got it all out.
“But Giles refused.” My voice was little more than a whisper. “That’s when the truth finally came out.”
In the silence that followed, I felt we were both thinking about how Giles’s guilt and remorse had led him to lose control of the car, which had resulted in his death. But that wasn’t the point of my confession. Alex had grieved, and would continue to grieve for his brother. And I would always have complicated feelings regarding what had happened to my father and how it had been dealt with by Duncan, Giles and Alex. But that still didn’t change the fact that we could be together. I saw that now. I just needed him to see that, too.
I dropped his hands then, and reached up to touch his cheek, trying to bring his focus back to me, and the present. “I know what’s happened is awful—for both of our families. But none of that changes the fact that I trusted you that night. Even before I knew the truth about my father’s death, I knew I could rely on you. So if you think we can’t be together because I don’t trust you, then you’re wrong. Because I did—and I still do.” I could hear my voice crack with emotion, and it took every bit of strength I had to blink back my tears. “So if you still want me, then you have to know that I want to be with you.”
I choked on the last word, and I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. As they began to spill down my cheeks, Alex reached up and cupped my face in his large hands, using his thumbs to gently brush the droplets away. “Of course I want to be with you. You don’t know how hard it’s been staying away. I only did it because I thought it was the best thing for you. That being away from me would make you happy.”
At that, I laughed through my tears. “Do I look especially happy to you?”
His eyes swept over me as he pretended to assess my emotional state. Then I saw something change—the first hint of desire appear. “Not right now, you don’t.” A slow smile crept over his face. “But I’m sure I can do my best to change that.”
Before I could think of a response, he bent his head and kissed me.
* * *
Afterwards, we lay together in his bed in that comfortable, sleepy way lovers do. Alex was propped up against a mound of pillows, one arm wrapped casually around my shoulders while he played with my hair. I leaned against his bare chest, tracing his muscles with my fingertips.
“So what made you come round here today?” he said eventually. “After all this time, there must have been a reason . . .”
I thought back to my conversation with Duncan Noble and smiled to myself. It would do Alex good to know that I wasn’t the only person who had faith in him. “It wasn’t ‘what’—it was ‘who,’ ” I told him.
“Huh?”
I sat up a little and turned so I was facing him. “I mean, you should be asking who made me come round today. But it’s kind of a long story, and right now I’m starving. So if we can go to your kitchen and find some ice cream, I promise to tell you all about it.”
Chapter 34
Three months later
My mother bent down and removed a tray from the oven. The rich aroma of roast beef floated over to where I sat at the kitchen table, with Alex by my side.
Juices sizzled as she set the tray on the worktop. Her new boyfriend, Jeff, stepped forward and began to carve the joint, while she and April started to put roast potatoes and vegetables into serving dishes, and carry them over to the table.
“Can I help at all?” Alex asked, as my sister set down a bowl of crisp green beans.
“You’re a guest. There’s no need.”
It was hard to miss the flush on my sister’s cheeks, or the breathlessness of her voice. Her crush on my boyfriend clearly hadn’t diminished. But it was harmless enough, and I had a feeling it would dissipate soon. She’d started mentioning a boy in her maths class at increasingly regular intervals . . .
Alex’s hand scrunched the back of my neck, turning my face towards him. “So I get that I’m not helping because of my status as a guest. But what’s your excuse?”
“I’m just lazy.” I raised my eyebro
ws suggestively. “In the kitchen, at least,” I said, low enough for no one else in the kitchen to hear.
“Hmm . . .” He nuzzled his nose against mine. “So I’m guessing that means no home-cooked meals? I think I should’ve found that out before I asked you to move in with me.”
“It’s always worth reading the small print,” I agreed solemnly, and then lightly kissed him on the lips.
The truth was, I was happy to watch them dish up. I’d already offered to help once, and been told that everything was under control. That was good enough for me. I sat back in my chair and surveyed the busy kitchen, feeling an unexpected sense of contentment wash over me. Sunday lunch with roast beef and all the trimmings. You didn’t get much more of a traditional English family ritual than that.
My father had loved Sunday roasts, and after he’d died, my mother had refused to cook them—it was too painful for her. So it had surprised me that she’d been the one to suggest it. Perhaps she was feeling nostalgic. I was officially moving in with Alex that day, and he’d come round to pick up the last of my stuff. I’d been worried my mother might break down, but she’d genuinely seemed to enjoy cooking—giving April little lessons, the way a mother should. I could see Sunday roast becoming a regular thing.
Once the plates of meat and Yorkshire pudding were ready, my mother and Jeff came to sit down. Alex poured glasses of water from a jug—the one element missing from the meal was wine, something we’d forgone for my mother’s sake. April was the last to join us. She placed a jug of gravy on the table and slipped into her seat.
“Did you tell Nina about Paris?” my sister said as she helped herself to potatoes. Although her focus was on the food, it was clear she was talking to my mum.
I’d been about to cut into a slice of perfectly cooked beef, but now I set my knife and fork down. “No,” I answered before my mother could. “It’s the first Nina’s heard of anything about Paris.”
“We’re going there during the school holidays. On Eurostar. For five nights.”
April couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice—and I didn’t blame her. It would be her first time abroad. But I couldn’t quite share her enthusiasm for the imminent trip.
“So who’s going?” I asked as casually as I could. My eyes moved from April to my mum and then settled pointedly on Jeff. “The three of you?”
It was true that my mum was doing a lot better lately. She’d worked as an accounts assistant before having me, and she’d managed to get a job doing just that at a local architect’s. It had been hard for her at first, having not worked for so long, but now that she’d got the hang of it, I think she genuinely enjoyed the little challenges and triumphs of a daily job. I had a feeling it had helped her stay sober—to have something to occupy her time.
She’d met Jeff through work, too. He was a structural engineer, who freelanced for her boss, and he would come into the office once or twice a week. They’d gone on their first date two months ago, and so far he seemed like a good guy—amicably divorced, with two boys of his own, aged eight and eleven. But while I had tentatively given Jeff my seal of approval, it was still the early days in their relationship. I wanted to get to know him better before he started becoming a permanent part of April’s life. I didn’t want my mother making the same mistake she often had—plunging straight into a relationship and forgetting everything else. If things didn’t work out, then she risked going straight back to the bottle, which we all wanted to avoid.
But to my relief, she shook her head.
“No, Jeff’s not coming. It’s just going to be me and April.” She reached out and placed her hand over my sister’s, and squeezed. “A girly holiday, with lots of sight-seeing and croissants, and maybe a bit of shopping.”
As April squealed with delight, I opened my mouth to suggest that perhaps I should come along, too. But before I could speak, I felt Alex’s hand move to my knee, and give it a squeeze. I knew what the gesture meant—he’d obviously guessed what I was about to say, and this was his way of stopping me. We’d talked a lot about this—how I needed to find a way to let go, and trust my mother to take care of April, and concentrate on myself instead. It was funny how it was easier said than done.
I looked around the table, surprised once again at how well my once-fractured family were doing. That’s why, when Alex had asked me to move in with him, I’d had no hesitation in agreeing. He was about to open up his hotel, which took up a lot of his time, and while he still liked to go out when he could, the self-destructive behaviour hadn’t returned. He’d even started to get on better with his father—the loss of Giles having made them call an unspoken truce, and make an effort to get on. While they’d never be twin souls, they could at least start to appreciate each other for the people that they were.
So Alex had started seeing his father for dinner once a week. I had no objection to him going, but I hadn’t been able to bring myself to join them. I understood Duncan had concealed the circumstances of my father’s death for his family’s sake, but I couldn’t forgive his actions quite yet. As he was Alex’s father, I knew I’d have to find a way to be around him at some point, but that was for the future. There was only so much growing I could do at one time. Right now, I wanted to enjoy the present.
I raised my water glass. “Well, here’s to Paris.”
“No, we can’t toast that,” my mother said. “It’s the day you’re moving out of home. There has to be something more appropriate.”
“How about—to new adventures?” Alex suggested.
“That’s good,” April agreed.
We all raised our glasses, and clinked as we chorused, “To new adventures!”
* * *
“That’s the last of them.” Alex dumped the box down on the floor of the bedroom, and then straightened and rubbed his back theatrically. “And by the way, you owe me a massage later. I thought you said you didn’t have much stuff?”
It was early evening. After Sunday lunch, we’d all gone for a long walk to work off the roast and the apple crumble that had followed. Now, we were finally back at Alex’s flat.
“Hmm . . .” I looked up from the suitcase of clothes I was unpacking, and glanced around the room. “Yeah, there’s more than I’d imagined there’d be.”
Alex glanced at his watch. “If we do this quickly, we might still manage a movie tonight. So where do you want me to start?”
I nodded over at one of the boxes labelled: Schoolwork.
“How about that one?”
“Sure. I’ll take it to the study.”
He lifted the box, and carried it down the hallway to the third and smallest bedroom—which was also going to serve as my study.
I’d enrolled at a nearby sixth form college, so I could go back and take my A levels. So far, I was loving every moment of it. The only downside was my lack of free time. It was an intensive course, where the usual two years’ worth of material were crammed into one. What with my job as well—I worked twenty hours at the gym still, whenever I didn’t have classes—I was kept busy.
Alex had told me not to worry about working, and that he’d give me any money I needed—after all, I only had to earn enough to cover my own living expenses now, as my mum was able to support herself and April. But I’d insisted on keeping my job. While I’d come a long way in opening up to him, it was still important to me to maintain my independence and pay my own way. If nothing else, I thought it was a good example to set for April. I wanted her to learn to stand on her own two feet.
Five minutes must have passed, when I heard him walking back towards our bedroom. I looked up just as he appeared in the doorway. He was frowning.
“What’re these?”
It took me a second to realise what he was holding up, but when I did so, I closed my eyes briefly. I’d hoped we could put off this conversation for a little while longer.
“University prospectuses,” I admitted. I got to my feet, brushing off the dust from my jeans, and walked over to take them from hi
s hand. There were three in total—for Nottingham, Manchester and Exeter. The closest of them was a two-hour train journey away from London. Driving would take longer. “I’m thinking of applying to study law.”
Of course I could apply to a London university, but instinct told me not to. Although it would be lovely to be near Alex, it would be far too easy to be lazy about making new friends. What would be the point of going to university if I didn’t embrace the experience?
His eyes swept mine. “And why didn’t you tell me about it?”
I sighed. After twelve weeks of bliss, was our honeymoon period about to end? I felt knots forming in my stomach just at the thought of it.
“I suppose I didn’t want to bring it up until I had to.” I ran a hand through my hair. “The problem is, it’ll mean I’ll have to move away from here. We might not see each other much during term time. And I didn’t know how you’d react.” I frowned. “We’ve only just got together. It seems like a bad idea to put obstacles in our path when our relationship’s barely even begun—”
“No, it isn’t.” Alex interrupted me mid-flow. His blue eyes were soft and sincere as he cupped my face in his hands. “If you want to apply to university, then that’s what you should do. Even if it means us having a long-distance relationship for a while. You’ll just have to trust that we’ll find a way to make it work.”
As he bent his head to kiss me, I realised that I did.
Acknowledgments
I’d like to thank the following:
My agent, Darley Anderson, for his unshakable support, wisdom and kindness. He really is the best at what he does! Also at the agency, Andrea Messent, who provided a wonderful set of insightful comments after reading an early draft of this novel.
My UK publishers, Simon & Schuster, particularly the eternally charming and patient Suzanne Baboneau, and my long-suffering editor, Clare Hey, for her perceptive suggestions, which improved the novel immensely, as well as for her ongoing hand-holding of a very nervous author, and above all for her witty company at lunch. Emma Capron at The Hot Bed, who I’m having the pleasure of getting to know. At Atria in the United States, Judith Carr and Sarah Durand.