by Bloom, Anna
“You and Peter were married?” For a man as clever as Eli, he’s having real issues getting this piece of information to sink in. Who can blame him? It’s like yesterday we woke on the sofa in the Kensington Mews in an alternate reality.
“Yes.” Jeremy sighs and sits on an armchair, lifting a jumper from its cushion and placing it on his lap, fiddling with the material.
“Three years? I can’t believe this.”
I put my hand on Eli’s knee. Getting angry isn’t going to help anyone really. Peter is gone and with him so are his explanations.
“What happened to both your faces?” Jeremy blinks at us with interest from behind his lenses.
“Nothing.” Eli straightens up and I sigh.
“We had our arses handed to us by an evil bastard who’s hopefully been arrested,” I fill in. What’s the point in lying? This guy is family. Peter’s family. He flickers a smile but it last about three seconds.
“Peter said you made things fun.”
I shake my head slightly. “I had lunch with Peter just the other day, it hurts a little he didn’t mention you.”
Elijah pales even further and I squeeze his hand tight.
“It’s the agreement that was made.” Jeremy shrugs but it seems to take all the energy from him, and he slumps back in his chair, still holding the jumper.
“We want to invite his friends to the funeral? Are you a banker, too? I’m guessing you have a circle of friends here?” I’m kind of clutching at straws but someone has got to lead this, and Eli has just utterly shut down.
“God no, I’m a teacher. I teach maths in a high school.”
“He wanted to be a teacher,” Eli says, his voice distant like he’s chasing down memories.
Jeremy meets his gaze and the two men watch one another. “I know. He wanted to teach history.”
His words unravel something within Eli because in the next moment his head drops into his hands and his shoulders wrack with heavy sobs.
And my heart, so battered and bruised, delicately strung together with whispered promises and diamonds and gold, aches with such severity I clutch my chest tight to keep myself together.
My phone rings with the unmistakable sound of an incoming videocall and we all jolt. “Sorry.” Bollocks, I forgot to switch it off. I fish around in my bag trying to find it while Eli continues to cry next to me with his head in his hands. Finally, I grasp my fingers around it and manage to silence Abi’s FaceTime call. It hits me with a thunderclap of awareness that I haven’t told anyone what’s happened. The last Abi knew, I was on my train back to London to fight for Elijah. She doesn’t know I’m engaged, or that Peter is dead.
My heart booms.
“Sorry.” I go to throw it back in my bag, but she rings again. My stomach twists. She’d never ring me twice in a row unless something was wrong. Everyone knows the rule; if I don’t answer the first time then I’m not going to answer at all.
I’m torn. Eli is broken, sobs heaving his chest. Jeremy, a stranger but family so it seems, is frozen like a lake in the depths of winter, and Abi is calling, possibly to discuss the weather and wondering if I found my man.
I found him.
“I’m sorry. I need to get this.” My gut tells me I need to get it. I slide my hand down Eli’s back, wishing I could take away every shred of hurt eating him whole.
Standing from the sofa, I step out into the hallway. I don’t accept the video call. Instead, I cut it off and redial her with a voice call.
“Hey,” I whisper.
“Hey, you. Where the hell are you?”
“Sorry, Abs.” I open my mouth to tell her what’s been going on, but she beats me to it.
“He’s been arrested.” Her voice is high, tight, but I breathe a sigh of relief. Aiden is going to pay for what he did to me. For every touch. Every breach of trust. He will pay for them all.
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
“No, Faith. Not Aiden. Dan. He went after Aiden’s crew. It was bad, like more than bad. One guy is in hospital; they pulled him out of the sea.”
Her words make no sense. Nothing. I stare at the wall off the hallway, focusing on a framed charcoal sketch.
“I don’t understand.”
“Faith, Dan has been arrested. For grievous bodily harm, but it could be worse if the other guy doesn’t make it.”
My knees fold and I sit on the floor. A deep dark sob works its way from within me. “I can’t take much more.”
“What’s going on? Did you find Eli?”
A slow tear rolls down my cheek. “Yes. But Peter died. His brother. We’ve just found out he’s got a husband. We're there now. Elijah is a mess.”
“Yeah well, Faith. There’s a mess here too.”
I slump against the wall.
This is the moment. I’ve reached my limit. I can’t take anymore.
Everything keeps coming for me and I can’t fight it any longer.
“I’ll call you back.” I hang up the call. I don’t have words. Nothing. I drop my phone on the floor and then push myself up. Leaving Eli and Jeremy in the lounge, I stagger into the kitchen where I find a glass on a drawing board and run myself a drink from the tap.
The water swirls in my stomach and then rushes back up my throat, spewing into the sink. I gasp and clutch at my hair, sweat prickling my skin.
Shit.
My stomach is rolling, turning, squeezing so tight it’s painful. Although I can’t remember the last time I ate. Can’t remember the last time we even had a drink. It’s been a nightmare, a never-ending nightmare since Elijah’s birthday.
“Faith?” His voice calls from the doorway of the kitchen.
“Don’t come any closer.” I wave my hand back at him while I put the tap back on and splash my face.
His hands are on my shoulders, smoothing down my arms, heating my skin.
“Faith, what’s wrong?”
I can’t tell him about Dan. It would be too much now he knows the truth about us. He knows that on one blind night I broke the connection between us and gave myself to Dan. I swipe at my eyes. How did this happen? How did we get in such an awful mess?
“Talk to me.” He steps closer, gathering me into a tight embrace. Five minutes ago, he was sobbing, but now he’s the one comforting me, holding me up. It should be the other way around. My hands spread across his chest, gold and diamonds winking at me, telling me to hang on tight.
I shudder a deep breath. “Dan has been arrested. He went after Aiden and his friends.”
There’s a deep dark flicker in his eyes. I watch it flash and then resolve itself into his bright blues. I want to catch on fire as I struggle to breathe and meet his gaze.
“What happened?”
“He went after the guys who set on us; who hurt you.”
His head shakes from side to side and he sighs so deep it’s like it comes from his soul.
“Listen, Eli. Don’t worry about it. I just wanted you to know, because I don’t want secrets between us.”
His face, as he looks at me, is a tortured mask. “No secrets, not ever.” He runs a hand though his hair. The bruises are better, but a long way from being healed. A long way. “I’ll go. He needs a lawyer.”
“No.” I press my fingers into his chest. “No. You’ve got enough going on. We need to help Jeremy too now. He’s family.”
Eli nods slowly. Fuck, why does everything hurt so much? “And Dan’s yours. You look after Jeremy and I’ll go to Brighton. It won’t take me long to sort it out, then I need to come back and have a conversation with my mother.”
I frown. “Why?”
“Because she knew about this. I know she did, and I want to know just what deal she did to keep Peter from sharing his life with me.”
“You don’t know that.” My fingers lift to his cheek, smoothing the soft skin and the harsh scrape of his dark stubble.
“Yeah, I do.”
He catches my hand, turning it over and planting his lips on my palm. “`You ar
en’t running, even though this is a mess.”
I meet his gaze. “I told you. I’ll never run.”
“Let me go and help Dan.”
“Eli, your brother has just died.”
His fingers clutch mine tight. “I know, but nothing is going to bring him back now.” A shrug lifts his shoulders.
“I love you. You’re a good man.”
He’s deadly serious when he catches my face in his hands, his thumbs tilting my jaw so he can press a kiss against my mouth. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted to be.”
“I’ll stay with Jeremy for a while. I hope he lets us into his life now we’ve found him.”
Eli’s lips flicker with a wry smile. “I think he will have a hard time keeping you out. It’s your thing.”
“I’m a bulldozer.”
“The prettiest bulldozer I’ve ever met.”
“I’m going to ring Gerard and make sure he’s okay.” Another person I haven’t spoken to in the mess that’s been the last few days. Peter and Gerard used to be more than friends; he should have been first on my list. I suck.
“I’ll see you at home later?” Eli’s lips skim my cheek.
“Please don’t go. This isn’t right.”
“I’m going. End of. I’ll see you at home, my love.” His lips press against mine and my heart stutters wildly. “My wife.”
Why does being his wife seem like a different lifetime… a path that we might not be able to reach?
I nod, my heart aching. “At home.”
It’s dark, the night long having set in when he walks into the bedroom. Jeremy is in the spare room at the Mews, I couldn’t leave him. Couldn’t bear to walk away from him and his grief. I don’t know him, but he’s family now and I’ll do what I can for this new family of mine. I broke the news to Gerard; no one had called to let him know. He came over with a bottle of whiskey which he drank with Jeremy.
I checked on my little sis, Tabitha. She’s still crying. Lewis is still with her but for how long I don’t know.
I don’t know how much more any of us can take. Grief and heartache chase us all, toying with us from within the depths of shadows we can’t escape.
I’m holding my phone when my gaze lands on the tired shadows of Eli’s face. I’ve been writing the same message to Abi for the last hour, sat up against the white crisp pillows on Eli’s bed. We are getting married.
For some reason I can’t send it.
My thumb won’t hit the green button.
It’s the wrong time. The wrong place.
A tear slips down my cheek as he steps closer.
“It’s okay, he’s fine.” He drops to his knees on the mattress, pulling me into his arms.
A wild sob wrenches from deep within me. “Thank you. Thank you.”
His lips rain kisses on my face, absorbing my tears with his touch. “Just love me, Faith.”
I pull him close, desperately clinging to him and I love him with everything I have.
Six
Rain and black. It’s the same as in August: rain splatters on black umbrellas, the air is tight, and from under it I struggle to remember how to breathe. I didn’t expect to attend two funerals in two months. Eight weeks and so much loss and pain.
My hand clenches Eli’s as hard as I possibly can, and I try to ignore the rising swell of nausea that won’t go away. The stress of the last few days has left me strung on a shoestring.
Next to me, Tabitha slumps against Lewis whose face is grim and set hard like chiselled flint.
The summer of long hot nights and playing with glass seems a very long time ago.
On the dais, Peter lies in his chrome black coffin. One last pretentious flare from the man who I have learned didn’t have anything ostentatious about him.
It was all a front.
He and Jeremy lived a simple life. He paid himself the same wage as Jeremy earned as a teacher. Every other penny went into an account that is now frozen and waiting for probate to settle.
Too much bureaucratic red tape for a man who laughed like no one was listening and wanted to prank call his brother.
I sneak a glance at Jennifer. She’s sat, her back straight and tall, but with her face hidden behind a black net attached to her hat. Eli reaches over and squeezes her hand and for a long moment we are all tied together.
The vicar is stepping up to the pulpit when the clatter of the door at the back of the Bowsley local church squeaks. Eli and I both turn, and I smile as Jeremy walks in with an older couple—his parents. The man is tall and pale, his glasses similar to his son’s. His mother is stunning. Her skin the depth of ebony, her powerful frame well concealed behind a sharp suit.
Jeremy meets my gaze and I nod. I knew he would come. Jennifer sobs a little, but Jeremy—with his head held high—sits on the empty pew at the front on the other side of the aisle.
I settle back and continue to hold Eli’s hand. Wondering when we will all wake up from this nightmare
“You came.” I smile up at Jeremy and clink a glass of champagne against his. The Faircloughs drink champagne for all occasions.
“You were right. What you said the other night.” Jeremy’s dark eyes hold mine and I cringe.
“I was unkind. I’m sorry.”
His hand reaches for my elbow and he squeezes tight. “No, you were right. Peter and I should have fought harder for what we wanted and not given in.”
“You did fight; you had a wonderful life. I spoke out of turn. I don’t know what’s wrong with me at the moment, my emotions are all over the place.”
Jeremy peers closer, frowning around his spectacled frames. “You are very pale, Faith. Are you okay?”
I snort laughter which gets a few frowns of the more critical variety from other guests at the wake. “What’s to be okay about?”
“It will settle down.”
I lift an eyebrow. “I admire your optimism. How can you do that? You’ve just buried your husband.”
He shrugs. “I guess I never expected to meet him, not ever, so anything on top of that, every moment, has been something to be grateful for.”
I groan. “Gah, please don’t make me cry anymore. I can’t cope with it.”
“It’s just the way it is. Isn’t it?” He pushes his glasses back up again. “Look at me. I’m mixed race, from a religious family, and gay, and today my parents came to my husband’s funeral. Sometimes you’ve got to believe.”
I glance over at his parents. “Are you going to introduce me? Or are the tattoos going to put them off?”
“I’ve already warned them.” He chuckles even though it sounds forced. He takes my elbow. “Thanks for being there this last week.”
I offer him a small smile. “I wish I could’ve seen you and Peter together, and I know Eli does, too.” We both glance over to where Eli is standing by his mother’s side. His face is stern, his skin pale, his bruises now nothing more than a painful memory. I ache for him. His eyes fall on me and his soul within the depths of them feels like an ocean away.
“Keep hanging in there, Faith. This is going to be hard. Peter and Eli, from what I understand, used to fend off their mother and grandmother as a team. Now it’s just him. The weight is going to be unbearable for a while.”
I shake my head a little. “You know so much more than I do about them.”
He shrugs. “Not really. I only knew Peter. But I know he loved his brother in his own way, the ‘Prodigal Son’ he used to call him.”
A wry smile stretches across my face. “I know.”
“And Eli used to call him, 'Peter the Lurker'.”
Jeremy snorts. “Well if you knew how we met, that wouldn’t be far wrong.”
We are close to his parents now and I sense the weight of their glances on my ink. “I hope you’ll tell me everything when you are ready.”
His eyes meet mine. “I’d like that, Faith.”
“Well, we are going to be family by marriage.”
His face clouds and I know I’ve said too mu
ch. We would have been family by marriage, if his husband hadn’t died.
“I’m sorry, that was insensitive of me.”
“Mum, Dad.” He points to his parents. “This is Faith. She’s engaged to Peter’s brother.”
His mother, who's apparently nameless, smiles warmly and reaches her hand to shake mine, but his father stays straight-faced and tight-lipped.
“I would say run for the hills,” he says instead of shaking my hand.
“Lawrence,” his wife chides.
“Well, it’s the truth.”
“What’s the truth?” Eli’s hand slips into the small of my back.
“Nothing, don’t worry.” I give him a smile.
“I was just saying Faith should run for the hills instead of marry into the Faircloughs.”
Lawrence can’t know how close to the mark his words are. My gaze settles onto Elijah.
“Dad, for God’s sake.”
“Well, come on, you two were married for three years. I’m a pastor for goodness' sake and even I’ve managed to accept it despite the fact that everything about it disagrees with God’s word. But the Faircloughs here can’t even acknowledge you are in the room.”
An awkward silence hangs over the room. Lawrence’s voice is loud enough to carry through the Bowsley dining room.
He carries on regardless. “It’s all about face value and money with them. It has been since you both met.” Jeremy’s mum shoots me an apologetic glance and pulls on his arm. “I mean, look, even his own father isn’t here.” Elijah gasps, but Lawrence doesn’t stop. “If it hadn’t been for Faith and Elijah finding you, you wouldn’t be here, either, and you’re his husband.”
A shocked murmur runs around the room.
"I’m sorry,” Jeremy speaks to Eli, who doesn’t seem to even be connecting with what’s going on. “We shouldn’t have come, emotions are running too high.”
It takes a moment, but Eli finally snaps out of his daze. He coughs and clears his throat, swallowing awkwardly. “No, Jeremy.” He raises his voice so the whole room can hear. “You are Peter’s husband. You should be here more than anyone.”