by Lisa Swift
‘Um, thanks,’ he said.
‘I love saying your full name. It makes you sound like a superhero.’
‘What makes you think I’m not?’
Sophie laughed. ‘You seriously think you can smuggle a Donnie Darko line past me without me noticing? Nice try, Con.’
‘I’d be disappointed if I could,’ he said, smiling. ‘So what will you wear?’
Sophie shrugged. ‘I thought maybe She-Hulk. I’m in a Marvel sort of mood.’
Connor nodded his approval. ‘Nice. You know, Soph, I never knew girls could be cool until I met you.’
‘Well, I never knew boys could be sweet until I met you.’
She took his hand and led him to her bed. They sat down, and she lifted her lips up to his.
Connor closed his eyes and opened his mouth a bit, trying to remember the YouTube videos he’d been watching to help him improve his kissing technique. He was definitely getting better: there was hardly ever any escaping saliva now, and Sophie seemed to like it – at least, the noises she made suggested she did. Connor enjoyed the noises, although they frightened him a bit too. He was hoping Sophie wouldn’t want to move too quickly to the next stage. In spite of JJ and Crucial’s teasing, he’d much prefer to take things slow. He really liked Sophie Cavendish, who was pretty and interesting, and made him laugh, and liked all the same things he liked, and he couldn’t help worrying she might go off him if he wasn’t very good at whatever the next bit was. He was only just getting the hang of this bit.
She was making the noises again. He could do without that right now, to be honest. Oli would be here any minute, and Mr and Mrs Cavendish. He didn’t want to be in the sort of state those breathless little moans and sighs tended to get him into.
One of her hands massaged his back, and Connor, thinking he ought to show a similar level of enthusiasm, wrapped one of his arms around her so he could rub his hand up and down her spine a bit.
She seemed to like that. More noises. God…
Apart from the issues of excess drool and when to break for air, what to do with your tongue was the most awkward part of the business. No amount of studying snogging on YouTube, practising how wide to open your mouth and how to move your head around, could help Connor with that. Did you shove the whole of it right in, like, a full tonsil excavation? Or sort of dart it in and out like a snake? Spiral it round and round like a cement mixer, maybe? Or was it supposed to be kind of the tongue version of a thumb war – like he should sort of scoop hers up and wrestle with it a bit? He tried a few different things, paying close attention to the noises Sophie made in response, but that was no help. She seemed to like all of it. Perhaps he should’ve asked Uncle Theo for a bit of advice after all. Theo had always had loads of girlfriends and…
Shit! Her hand was sliding over his jeans. Up his thigh, not stopping, not… Connor put his own hand over it to halt its progress.
Sophie pulled her lips away from his.
‘What’s up?’ she whispered. Her eyes looked huge after the kiss, and sort of wet, like Ariel the mermaid or something.
‘Oli’s going to be here soon.’
‘I know,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘Mum wouldn’t let you stay over on your own so I had to invite him to keep it respectable. You want me to though, right?’
‘Yeah, course. Course I do. I just think… we’d better not get carried away.’
‘I guess not.’ She kissed him again: just a little peck this time. ‘I love how you’re so sensible, Connor. You don’t push for it like the others do.’
‘Um, cheers,’ Connor said, although he wasn’t sure ‘sensible’ sounded like much of a compliment. Also… others? What others? He didn’t know Sophie had had boyfriends before him. Not that he minded, but it worried him to think she might be comparing him to other, better kissers.
Was she even still a virgin? God, he didn’t want to think about that. The idea she might have so much more experience than him was the one thing guaranteed to get him stressing out even more than he was already during their make-out sessions.
She smiled provocatively. ‘Anyway, maybe I can get you alone later. It is my birthday party.’
‘Yeah.’ He forced a smile. ‘That’d be… um, nice.’
Chapter Six
‘What do you suppose he’s up to now?’ Lexie asked Theo as they waited at the bar of the Highwayman’s Drop.
‘Look, relax, can you? Connor’s fine.’
‘You don’t know that. God only knows what that little vixen’s doing to him, the poor wee innocent.’
Theo laughed. ‘Sophie? She’s another one of these cosplay geeks, isn’t she?’
‘Exactly. She’ll be there in her PVC Harley Quinn catsuit, bearing down on my little frightened Connor with a gleam in her eye and a cat o’ nine tails in one hand. The experienced older woman. I’ve seen The Graduate.’
‘Lex, she’s fifteen and into role-play gaming. Those kids have a very different idea of the role of a Dungeon Master than you do, trust me.’
‘All right, so I’ve become a worst-case-scenario panicky mum lady. Don’t judge me.’ She pulled out her phone. ‘I’ll just give Janette Cavendish a quick ring, check they’re OK.’
Theo took the phone from her and tucked it into his pocket. ‘Nope. Confiscated. You’ll have a large pinot, relax and enjoy a night’s holiday from being mum to a teenage boy. Which, as you’re fond of reminding me, you’re really far too young to be.’
‘God, am I ever,’ Lexie said, sighing.
‘Hiya,’ Brooke said as she approached to take their order. ‘Did I just hear you two talking 1940s costumes?’
‘Er, no,’ Lexie said. ‘Different costume conversation.’
‘What can I get you both then?’
‘Large house white and a pint of Best please.’ Lexie summoned a smile. ‘So what do you think you’ll wear to the festival?’
‘Depends how much effort I can be bothered to put in. I quite fancy going as a Wren, but I’ll probably leave it till the last minute and end up wearing my mum’s mac and pretending I’m in the French Resistance. How about you guys?’
‘That’s one thing we don’t need to worry about. We can just wear our work gear.’ Theo grinned as he watched her pour his pint. ‘So, any clues as to what might be going on under the long mac, Brooke? Please say it involves suspenders.’
Brooke grinned back. ‘Who says it involves anything at all?’
Theo ran a finger under his collar. ‘Yikes. Better put some ice in that pint.’
Lexie nudged him. ‘You never let up, do you?’
‘Have to keep my arm in, love.’ He nodded to an empty table. ‘You grab us a seat. I’ll get these.’
‘I thought I owed you a pint.’
‘I’ll let you have a stay of execution on owed drinks until Daryl finally manages to crowbar his wallet open.’ He patted her arm. ‘Tonight’s on me, Lex. You need a break.’
She smiled at him. ‘Thanks, Theo.’
‘I’d advise the snug,’ Brooke told her in a low voice. ‘It’s Friday. That means Ryan Theakston’s going to be in later looking for someone to bore rigid with tales of his military exploits at that bloody re-enactment group.’
‘Right. Thanks for the tip.’
Lexie went to claim a table, leaving Theo to chat up Brooke. It made her smile. She’d been that girl once herself, many years ago.
At thirty-three, Theo was still every inch the handsome, irresponsible charmer he had been the night she’d met him seven years ago, when, with his mate Daryl, he’d approached her in the Leeds casino she’d been working at to see if she might fall for his lines. Lexie, young as she’d been then, had still been wise enough to look past this obviously inveterate flirt to his steadier friend.
Funny how things turned out. In the end it had been flighty Theo who’d been there when she’d most needed someone to lean on, and sensible Daryl who’d let her down. Let them all down.
It seemed strange to remember that just a few years ago it would’ve
been the three of them heading out to the pub, usually on a Tuesday night when the restaurant Daryl and Theo ran together was closed and Connor – still a whispering, pale little lad with fringe in his eyes – was staying over with his nana. If only Lexie could have seen what was looming on the horizon…
Looking back, she was irritated with herself for not spotting the signs that her marriage was destined to fail before it had even begun. Yes, she’d been young and in love, but she ought to have known better. She’d been flattered, then, by the way Daryl had paraded her around Chamber of Commerce and Rotary functions, proudly introducing her to his business contacts as ‘my future wife’. She’d been proud of the admiring glances he’d attracted; how he’d been hailed as some sort of whizz-kid restaurateur, little realising just why Daryl threw himself into his work with such vigour.
Above all, she’d glowed with pleasure when he’d complimented her on the relationship she was building with Connor. Lexie had been wary when, on their first date, Daryl had revealed he was the father of a seven-year-old boy. That he was a widower had been intimidating enough, and when Lexie had discovered he was a single dad into the bargain, she’d almost called time on the whole thing. Every one of her friends had advised her to ditch him before she got in any deeper.
Nevertheless, a second date followed the first, and then a third. Eventually Lexie was introduced to her boyfriend’s young son – a shy little soul, quietly grieving for the mother he’d lost far too young, desperate for love – and an instinct she didn’t even know she possessed had taken over. She’d watched Connor’s eyes follow his father – the father whose face filled with pain every time he caught sight of the boy – and her heart had melted. In the end she didn’t know which part of the package she was marrying into: whether it was Daryl’s wife she wanted to be, or Connor’s mum. She only knew she was past the point where she could walk away.
It was only after they were married that things started to niggle. Little things, at first. At Daryl’s request, Lexie gave up her croupier job so she could spend her nights at home with him and Connor. She wanted another job; a daytime job that wouldn’t take her away from her new family, but Daryl wouldn’t hear of it. Connor needed her at home, he said, and besides, they didn’t need the extra income. Then she worried about his relationship with Connor, and begged him to take more of an interest in the boy’s hobbies. Daryl made a token effort to reconnect with his son but he soon grew distant again, that same look of pain in his eyes.
The only time Daryl ever acknowledged Lexie’s needs was when she told him she’d like to move house. She didn’t feel right living with him in the home he’d shared with his first wife, his teenage sweetheart Elise, who’d died just over a year before they met. Daryl was enthusiastic about that idea, and Lexie had been pleased that she still had some influence with him. However, he quickly took over all the arrangements and Lexie found herself shut out of the decision-making entirely. The next thing she knew, they were in a six-bedroom new-build on the outskirts of Leyholme that felt far too large for their little family. Daryl had said they needed it – someone of his status and ambition needed a home that looked a bit imposing – and after all, he’d said, with a cheeky squeeze of her bottom, who knew that they might not fill the empty rooms before long?
And that had been the real clincher. The baby. The baby that Lexie had been so keen to try for, and that Daryl had continually made excuses to put off.
At first, timing was the issue. The business was still growing. They needed a decent nest egg first: something they could draw on if lean times should come. Then it was Lexie herself. She was young – nearly four years younger than Daryl. She didn’t want to ruin her figure just yet, did she? Give up her best years to dirty nappies and midnight feeds? She had plenty of time to have a baby – it was a foolish woman who had children before thirty, in his opinion. Of course, it had been different for him and Elise: they’d been in love since they were kids, so when Elise accidentally fell pregnant at nineteen, marrying and starting a family hadn’t really been a big deal. They were going to do it anyway; finding out Connor was on the way had just brought it forward a bit. There was a period during her marriage when Lexie had felt that if she heard the phrase ‘things were different with Elise’ one more time, she’d start googling undetectable poisons.
And then, finally, he told her he was ready to start trying – just in time for Lexie to realise that Daryl Carson was the last man she ought to have a child with. His strained relationship with the son he already had was enough to make her see that. Besides, by then Lexie knew in her heart that Daryl didn’t really want another child. All he wanted was to try to prevent something he ought to have realised was inevitable – the end of their marriage.
The trouble with Daryl was that he hadn’t wanted a wife at all: not really. Not in the sense of a companion and friend to share his life with – that place had been occupied by Elise, and it never could be filled by anyone else. All he’d wanted was a trophy, and a tool; someone young, fun and attractive he could show off at networking events, who could accessorise his big house, impress his business associates, and bring up his son.
Lexie had known her marriage was over long before it had officially been pronounced dead. It had been Connor who’d kept her from leaving, although in the end she and Daryl were as good as strangers living under the same roof. She no longer relished being her husband’s wife but she still loved being Connor’s stepmum, and her fear of losing him had kept her with Daryl long after she ought to have called time on the marriage. The best thing Daryl ever did for the boy was to agree to Lexie’s pleas that he should stay in England with her when his dad was offered a two-year contract working for a restaurant chain out in Japan. Uprooting Connor from the life he knew to live in a strange country with an indifferent father would have been the worst thing that could have happened.
And then there was Theo, the one person who had even more reason to resent Daryl Carson than she did. Lexie was actually angrier with Daryl for the way he’d treated his old friend and business partner than she was on her own behalf. Seriously, who did something like that? Concealing the state of the finances in that cold, calculated way; preparing his own exit strategy via a friend with contacts in Japan, then casually announcing weeks before he was due to leave that the business was in its death throes and he’d sold his share for less than half what it ought to have been worth? Given no opportunity to buy his partner out, Theo had been forced to sell his half for a pittance, only barely scraping enough from the ashes of his hard work and dreams to invest in a modest new venture.
But despite Daryl’s betrayal, Theo’s loyalty to his former friend’s family had never wavered. They were all SODs together, he liked to say – Survivors Of Daryl. Lexie didn’t know what she would have done without Theo’s support and friendship. He was always there to offer a shoulder to cry on and a loan if she needed it, although he was hardly flush with cash himself. And then finally, when she’d been struggling to get a job with a CV that, thanks to Daryl, contained far more gaps than skills, he’d saved her bacon by offering to help her get a business loan so she could go into partnership with him at the little cafe-restaurant they eventually named the Blue Parrot. It was only after Daryl had gone that Lexie realised there was a lot more to Theo Blake than a knicker-dropping grin and a flirty one-liner.
‘Tuppence for them?’ Theo said as he came over with the drinks.
She smiled. ‘Just thinking how lucky I am to have a friend like you.’
‘I should say you are, after what I went through tonight. I wish I had a daughter I could use to get my own back.’ He paused. ‘On second thoughts, I really don’t.’
‘You’ll settle down one day.’
‘Not if I have anything to do with it.’ He sighed as he took a seat opposite her. ‘Mind you, I’m not sure the universe isn’t trying to send me some sort of message. I’m going through a dry period at the moment.’
‘Yeah?’ She glanced at the barmaid. ‘Brooke P
adgett seemed keen to flutter her eyelashes at you.’
‘Just a bit of polite social flirting. Brooke’s not interested, she’s turned me down before.’
Lexie raised her eyebrows. ‘That must’ve been a new experience for you.’
He didn’t smile. ‘Dunno, Lex. I’m starting to feel like my age is catching up with me.’
‘You’re not genuinely thinking about finding some poor, unfortunate girl to settle down with?’
‘God, no. Me with a wife and family? Seriously, can you imagine?’
‘I know, the poor sods.’
‘I mean, maybe if I met someone who was on the same page as me when it came to kids. I couldn’t compromise on that.’ He took a sip of beer. ‘Even then, though, I’m not sure she really exists, this perfect woman.’
‘Bit harsh on our kind, isn’t it?’
‘I don’t mean in general, I mean for me personally,’ he said. ‘I’ve been on a lot of dates, Lex. I’ve been out with women who are funny, warm, beautiful, sexy, exciting. Women who share my interests, who make me laugh. Every one of my ideal qualities in a partner, but never the whole lot in one package.’
‘Bloody hell, Teddy. I never realised you had such high standards.’
He gestured down his body. ‘Can’t take all this out of circulation for just anyone, can I?’
‘So that’s the reason you shag around, is it? You’re actually a closet romantic eternally searching for your soulmate? I knew you were a man of hidden depths.’
‘Well, no, generally I’m just randy,’ he said, smiling. ‘I’m not kidding though: I genuinely don’t think my perfect person exists. If she did, I’d have met her by now. And if she did, the chances of someone like her wanting to be with someone like me are slim to none. So why brood on it?’
‘There’s not a single person you dated where you thought “hmm, maybe this could work”? No one you wanted to get closer to?’
‘Nope,’ Theo said. ‘Go on, love, say it. I’m a heartless, shrivelled husk of a man destined to die alone.’