‘A couple more weeks yet,’ Nick said, and Amy rolled her eyes.
‘What will we do without you?’
And that niggle was flaring. It was a line Alison was starting to hear far too often when she was around Nick, and it shot an arrow into her heart each and every time she heard it.
‘We really are grateful,’ David said, and Alison looked at his suit and his smile and the new-found confidence in this family and knew what was coming. ‘I got that job, by the way.’
‘Fantastic.’ She could not have been more pleased. ‘That’s marvellous.’ She was delighted for them all.
‘Hello, there!’ Ellie joined them and chatted for a moment. ‘Has it really been a month?’
And it had been and it was, because just a couple of days later Alison had a mortgage and a set of keys.
‘I don’t remember the carpet being this green.’ She walked around with Nick and wondered if she’d bought the same place. ‘Were the walls really brown?’
‘It will look great with furniture.’ Nick was optimistic and then realistic. ‘And a coat of paint.’ He saw her glance up at the grey ceiling and then blow her fringe skywards at the job ahead. ‘I’ll help you. We can go and look at paint this evening and get it done over the next few days.’
‘You’ve got better things to do than paint a flat,’ Alison pointed out.
‘No.’ He pulled her towards him. ‘I like spending time with you—here.’ He pulled out a present from the bag he had been carrying that had had Alison wondering, and she opened it and it was a plant in a bright red pot that he put on the tiny balcony table. ‘That’s the garden sorted.’
Then he pulled out champagne and, of course, he’d forgotten glasses, but as they had that night on the beach they sat on the floor and drank from the bottle. Though it was cool and fizzy, Alison just had a mouthful because, yes, the flat was hers and Nick was here and it was a great day, but somehow she was finding it hard to feel like celebrating, especially when Nick pointed out she should hold off getting her furniture delivered till the flat had been painted. It was practical, sensible of course, but she wanted to move in so badly.
‘We’ll get it done in a week,’ Nick said. ‘Then we’ve still got…’ His voice trailed off, because then all they would have was a week.
And it just got ever closer—the future was fast approaching and it caught up at six p.m. on the Friday. Alison was trying to wrestle damp legs into her stockings as her mum chatted to Nick in the lounge.
There was a seafood restaurant at the Quay Nick wanted to try and even if it was supposed to be gorgeous and the views and food to die for, Alison was exhausted and, frankly, a box of noodles and a DVD would have sufficed.
She peered at her slightly pale reflection and added a dash more blusher. She could hear the laughter from the living room, because even Rose seemed to have loosened up and was getting on with Nick. Everyone did. It just made it harder, that was all.
‘Ready!’ She was wearing high heels and a black dress with a sheer black blouse over it, and her hair was behaving. Nick’s eyes lit up in pleasure as she walked in and Alison’s did the same.
He was in dark trousers and a dark shirt, which accentuated his blondness. She wished her flat was ready and he had picked her up from there!
‘What time’s the table booked for?’ Rose asked.
‘Seven,’ Nick said, ‘so we’d better get a move on.’ He kissed Alison on the cheek and he was clearly thinking along the same lines as she was because as Rose turned her attention to the television, he whispered the real time in her ear. ‘Eight,’ he said, and that made her smile. They were just about to dash off for their supposed seven p.m. booking, but really his flat, when his phone rang. He glanced at it, about to ignore it, then frowned. ‘I’d better get this.’
Alison sorted out her bag and checked for lipstick and things as Nick went out to the little garden, and she could hear the restrained delight in his voice, hear him laugh, hear him talk. ‘It’s a huge surprise!’ she heard him say. ‘Thanks so much for considering me.’ She glanced over at her mum and forced a smile, then poured herself a glass of water as Nick spoke for a little while longer and then came in.
‘Work,’ Nick said, and Alison gave a tiny frown.
‘In England.’
‘Oh.’
Rose suddenly remembered she had the iron on in the laundry and Nick must have remembered that he oughtn’t to smile quite so widely, because he contained his delight just a touch. ‘They’ve asked me to cut short my trip. Not this bit,’ he added hastily, ‘just get back from Asia a month early.’ As she listened she found out that one of his seniors was leaving and there was a fast track to consultant, and she did absolutely everything right. Alison smiled and kissed him and offered congratulations, but it was the strangest feeling, because she was wishing him well for a time that didn’t involve her.
‘I haven’t said yes,’ Nick pointed out.
‘It’s still something to celebrate—so it’s my turn to get the champagne!’ Alison said, and she kissed him. She really tried, she did everything right, but Nick couldn’t help but compare it to the more genuinely happy response she’d had to David’s news, and it didn’t irk him.
He got it.
Somehow they didn’t dash back to his place for some alone time. Instead, by unvoiced mutual consent, they headed straight to Darling Harbour, walked around for half an hour and then shared a meal that should have been sumptuous, but there was just this sadness in the air and it was Nick who broached it.
‘It’s not looking hopeful for Asia.’
Alison forced a tight smile. ‘You’ve got offers all round. What’s happening with Cort?’
‘Cort?’ Nick frowned.
‘Amy said there might be a spot…’
‘That’s still up in the air.
‘It’s going to be harder than I thought.’ He took her hand, but it stayed in a ball beneath his. ‘Saying goodbye.’
‘It’s going to be exactly as hard as I thought,’ Alison said, and her eyes flashed with tears for the very first time.
‘It doesn’t have to end just because—’
‘Oh, please…’ She was almost accusing. ‘I’ll accept your friendship on Facebook.’ Then she shook her head, because she wouldn’t.
Because she could not stand the thought of following him, reading about him, and not having him. That at some point she’d have to block him, because he was taking with him her heart.
‘We can still keep things going…’ But he didn’t push it, he paid the bill and though there was conversation, both were hurting.
‘Alison,’ Nick said as he pulled up at her house, neither having even suggested they go to his place for a while. ‘I never intended… I mean…’
‘Why couldn’t you have been boring?’ Alison turned to him. ‘Why couldn’t I have found you in high heels and my underwear?’ And she started to laugh, but it was squeezed out with tears and Nick pulled her into him and held her for a moment.
‘I’ll pick you up tomorrow, we’ll talk, we’ll try and work something out.’ His mind raced for solutions, and there was but one he could think of and that required deeper thought. ‘Tomorrow,’ Nick said, ‘I’ll pick you up.’
‘I don’t want to paint.’
‘We’re not going to paint,’ Nick said. ‘We’re going to work something out. You just be ready at ten.’
‘For what?’
‘Eight letters,’ Nick smiled. ‘Starts with S, ends with E.’
‘I hate surprises.’
He cupped her face with his hand and looked over to her, as if reading her for the very first time. ‘You really do, don’t you?’
And she pulled away, stepped out of the car and headed into her house—just a touch shaken by what he’d said, a touch unsure what he’d meant.
A touch worried that he’d stepped on a truth.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘HI, MUM.’ She was tired and confused and all Alison wanted was bed, but
Rose seemed determined to chat.
‘How was it?’
‘Lovely,’ Alison said.
‘You’re early.’
‘I’m just tired.’
‘You didn’t go for a walk afterwards?’ Rose asked. ‘Or back to his place for coffee?’
‘I told you…’ Alison frowned, unsure what Rose was getting at, but she found out a split second later when her mother’s hand slapped her cheek, and furious words erupted from her.
‘You tell me nothing!’ Rose snarled, and then she tossed a handful of little packages at Alison, like confetti to a bride. ‘Strawberry flavoured…’ Rose sneered. ‘Banana flavoured—you tart!’
‘Mum, please…’ Shamed, embarrassed, shocked, still she tried to calm things down, but Rose would not let her speak.
‘How could you, Alison?’
‘I’m twenty-four!’ She spelt it out, repeated it, said it again, but Rose would not relent.
‘How could you?’
She was seventeen again, only there wasn’t her dad or Tim to deflect her mother. It was ridiculous and they both knew it—and for the first time Alison told her mother so.
‘You turned a blind eye with Paul.’
‘Paul was serious about you!’ came Rose’s savage reply.
‘So’s Nick. He’s not using me.’ Alison’s voice was rising, but she wasn’t just arguing with Rose, she was arguing with herself. ‘It’s not some fling…’
‘It’s exactly what it is,’ Rose responded. ‘What? Do you think he’s going to give it all up? You heard him tonight. He’s got a promotion. It couldn’t possibly work. And you’re sleeping with him.’ It was all too close to the bone for Alison and she sat there and tried to take it, but Rose would not stop. ‘You were always trouble, always the one we worried about, always wild, and yet it was poor…’ She stopped, but not in time. The words might just as well have been said—Alison had lived, Tim had died. It stung and it burnt and tears shot from her eyes, not just at her mother’s thoughts but what she had done to her brother’s memory.
‘Tim was fun, Tim knew how to laugh. You’ve canonised him, Mum, you’ve turned him into some sort of saint. No matter what I do, I can never live up to him.’
‘Alison…’ Rose maybe realised she had gone too far. ‘This isn’t about Tim, it’s about this man.’
‘This man,’ Alison said, ‘is called Nick, and he makes me laugh and he makes me happy. And…’ she threw the condoms on the floor ‘…you have no right to go through my things. I can’t wait to move out!’ In fact, she didn’t have to wait now. ‘I’m going.’
‘With him?’
And Rose broke down then, just melted onto the chair. And Alison wanted to storm out, to go to bed, to curl up in a ball, but instead she sat with her arms around her mum, her own tears not helping her stinging cheek. Yes, it was a row that had needed to be had, but Alison knew what it was really all about.
‘I was talking about the flat. I’m not going to England, Mum.’ She stroked her mum’s shoulders. ‘He’s not going to ask, and if by some miracle he did, I wouldn’t go.’
She wouldn’t.
She couldn’t.
She’d had it confirmed now.
It wasn’t about Nick, it wasn’t about England. It could be Thailand, or a bungee jump, or a car, or a wave, and the row would have been the same. Even if cruel words had been spoken, she knew she was loved—it just stifled her.
‘I’m not going to England,’ Alison repeated. ‘I may be moving into a flat, but I’m not going to leave you—I never would, Mum. But—’ she was firm, really firm with her mum for the first time ‘—I do have to live.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
IT WAS horribly awkward the next morning.
‘Yes, please’ to tea, and ‘No, thanks’ to toast.
And ‘You should eat something.’
‘I’m honestly not hungry.’ Alison wasn’t—she felt sick when she thought of the condoms, and just all churned up from their row. She had no idea what was happening today either. She had a bikini on beneath her denim skirt and halter neck and something a little more dressy laid out on her bed, in case…well, just in case Nick’s plans were upmarket.
‘Mum,’ Alison tried, ‘about last night…’
‘Let’s forget about that,’ Rose said. ‘It’s sorted now.’
Except it wasn’t, Alison knew that. She looked at her mum’s strained face, at the panic that was always in her eyes, and it was more than Alison could deal with, more than she could help with, and she broached what she had once or twice before.
‘Have you thought about talking to someone?’ Alison swallowed. ‘That grief counsellor you saw…’
‘Can they bring them back?’ Rose shook her head. ‘Anyway, I’m fine. I am sorry about last night, I had no right to go through your things.’
‘Mum,’ Alison attempted, but the conversation was closed.
‘What are you up to today?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ Alison admitted. ‘Nick’s planning something.’
And to Rose’s credit she gave a bright smile. ‘That sounds exciting.’ But her smile faded as there was a low rumble in the street and as Rose went to the window she glanced anxiously at her daughter.
‘Nick’s here,’ Rose said. ‘On a bike.’
And, worse, he had two helmets.
‘Hi, Rose.’ Nick grinned. ‘I’m taking Alison to Palm Beach—where they film that soap…’
‘Nick…’ She could see her mother’s bleached face and knew she had to do something. ‘I haven’t been on a bike.’
‘I’m the one riding it,’ Nick said. ‘All you have to do is hold on. Come on, Alison, I’ve got everything planned.’
The sun was in his eyes, so maybe he couldn’t see her expression. Part of her knew she was being ridiculous, he was hardly going to go roaring off. It should have been the perfect surprise; it almost was. She wanted to grab the helmet he was offering, to climb on, to be the young woman she once had been, to spend a precious day with the man she adored.
So she tried.
‘See you, Mum.’
‘Alison, be ca—’ And Rose tried too because she smothered down her warning. ‘Have a good day.’
‘I’ll call you,’ Alison promised, before her mum asked, and there was fear and trepidation but a certain exhilaration too as she took the helmet and did as he asked and just held on.
She held onto his back and felt the machine thrum into life, her lips tightly closed, breathing through her nose, utterly rigid as they made their way through the city and over the vast bridge. She wanted so many times to tell him to stop, to let her off, and yet there was a thrill, a thrill that felt almost like pure joy as they left the city behind. The bay glistened ever more beautiful with every turn, every incline, and Alison found out what it meant to leave her worries behind.
‘Amazing, isn’t it?’ He paused the bike and they sat for a moment just admiring, and Alison waited for him to take a photo, but he didn’t, he just sat and gazed out and drank it all in.
‘We used to come here for a drive on Sundays,’ Alison said. ‘When we were kids,’ she explained. ‘If we go back a couple of kilometres, there’s a nice picnic spot.’
‘I’ve got it all worked out,’ Nick said, turning the engine back on, and instead of going back they went on, further than she had been, and it felt faster too, but a faster that didn’t unsettle her. She had her cheek pressed into his back, could feel the heat from his body and the blue of the water before her eyes and the wind on her legs and her hair whipping her mouth, and she wanted the road to last for ever.
Nick really had worked it out. He took the bike off the beaten path and he really had found the perfect spot. It was cool and mossy and a thick curtain of trees allowed no glimpse of the ocean, but you could hear the rumble of it in the background as they spread out the blanket and opened up the food.
‘I couldn’t sleep last night,’ Nick admitted, opening up some wine as she scooped out rice onto plastic
plates and shared out prawns. ‘How about you?’
‘It wasn’t a great night…’ Alison admitted, but she was reluctant to tell him about her mum, to bog him down with the endless problems, but then he surprised her.
‘I couldn’t sleep without you.’
And she tried not to let her heart leap, because then it would have to fall.
‘I don’t want this to end, Alison.’ His eyes never moved, but his fingers found the knot of her bikini, his long slim fingers at the back of her neck, and she wanted to arch into them, but she just knelt there, felt the slight drop of her breasts as he unravelled the knot.
‘Bet you say that to all your gals…’ She tried to make a joke of it, but it petered out at the end. ‘Here.’ She pushed towards him a plate.
‘I’m not hungry.’
Neither, suddenly, was she.
‘Did you like the bike ride?’
‘No,’ Alison said.
‘Liar.’ Nick smiled, and it had all gone as planned, because that was supposed to be his lead in, something about bikes, he reminded himself, except his fingers had freed another knot now, and his train of thought was diverted as he peeled down her halter like the skin of a grape and saw the lovely plump flesh within, and maybe he was a little hungry after all.
‘I couldn’t sleep last night,’ he repeated, but this time with different intent. And to others it might be tame, but to Alison it felt wild—she could feel the cool breeze on her breasts and she liked it, liked it more with each hot kiss he trailed because the breeze cooled her again. There was the hum of flies around neglected food and he kissed her off the blanket and away from them. She liked too the pillow of moss on her bottom as he slid her skirt up and in this, with him, there was no inhibition, and sometimes she wanted to explain, to tell him that this wasn’t her, except in his arms it felt as if it was.
She slid down his zipper, slipped her hands inside and freed him, and such was her want she gave a sob of frustration as his hand slid to his trouser pocket, gritting her teeth and willing him to hurry it on, but it tore, and he cursed in frustration and dug in his pocket again. And she hated them so, with him, she hated them so, especially when they were in his wallet on the blanket, and there was a moment, not even a moment, where she looked in his eyes and there was a Will we? Only they never found out—a screech of brakes filled the warm air and a thud that had them both leaping up.
Her Little Secret Page 9