Chapter 38

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Rosie

It was such a familiar feeling,opening the door to Mum’s place and stepping inside. The instinct was to say hey, Mum, I’m home, but I had to stop myself. This wasn’t home anymore. My home was upstairs.

Heart to hearts could never be more powerful than the one I’d had with Mum just over a week ago. Since then, we’d been spending time together whenever we could around her work, and my revision. I’d told her my story, and she’d told me hers, and here I was. It was time to meet my mum’s new partner.

I was excited to meet Tom and see how happy they were together in person. I had more faith in him than in anyone else she’d called her boyfriend, and I didn’t even know him. The look in her eyes was different when she spoke about him. The glow around her was natural, and grounded, with nothing fanatical about it. Nothing but respect and quiet love.

I was smiling brightly as I stepped into the living room to see him there next to her on the sofa. He looked way older than I’d have thought – completely grey with some wrinkles around his eyes, but that made no difference. His eyes were so warm.

“Lovely to meet you, Rosie,” he said, and stood up to shake my hand, but fuck that. I was growing bolder at expressing my feelings by the day.

I pulled him in for a hug.

“Lovely to meet you, too. Thanks for making my mum so happy.”

He chuckled. “No need to thank me for that. Your mum makes me a lot more happy than I could ever make her, that’s for sure.”

Somehow, I wasn’t quite so sure as he was. He was making Mum the happiest woman on the planet, besides me. She was grinning when he took his seat back next to her. She took his hand as I sat in the armchair across from them, and gave a little squeeze. He squeezed hers back, and I realised that I was coming to read the tiny things in relationships that make them so special. Looks between couples that say the unspoken. Shared jokes. Shared stories. Knowing each other and showing it in tiny gestures. Loving gestures.

Yeah. I already knew I was going to like Tom. I could feel it.

I knew Julian would like him, too.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” Tom said.

“Ditto. Mum hasn’t stopped talking about you. I even know what cereals you like.”

He laughed back. “You’re a muesli girl yourself now, aren’t you?”

“Yep. Chocolate hoops have no place in my life anymore.”

Neither had plenty of other things. Not least Scottie and the fear that despite everything he was going to worm his way back into Mum’s heart somehow, but there would be no chance of that.

I hadn’t known she’d called the police on him, finally. I’d had no idea they’d arrested him in Wrexham and taken him in for questioning – finding a whole load of drugs on him when he was put into custody. Served him right. There was no way he’d make it out of there now. Not on any count. Mum’s evidence was just too extensive, and drugs possession speaks for itself.

I settled down in the chair a little more, ready to get a sense of Mum’s new boyfriend myself. I wanted to hear it in his own words.

Tom told me how he’d crossed paths with her when he was out shopping with his daughter in town, and Mum was crossing the street with Trisha and Ramsay. He was grinning from ear to ear as he told me how he’d plucked up the courage to ask her out after their long conversation, and I smiled along with him. I’d heard this story from Mum’s side, and hers was just as happy. She’d told me about her nerves when she realised just how much she liked him, and worrying like hell he wouldn’t feel the same. It was Trisha who had convinced her, actually. Trisha, not me, who’d been close enough to assure her she was worth it.

And here he was. Here with her now. Devoted.

I loved the outcome, and the boost it had given her self-esteem, but Mum’s confidence in herself was growing all by itself, too. I could see it. The pride she felt in standing up and putting Scottie where he deserved to be was giving her a hell of a lot of faith in her own strength. Strength she’d never known she had.

“Tell me, then,” Tom said when we’d been talking awhile. “When will I get to meet the book hero, Julian? I’ve heard a lot about him, too.”

I couldn’t help but grin at Mum, loving how she’d have been singing his praises. Her feelings for him had taken as far a 180 as they could go.

“Later, if you like,” I said. “He’s making a risotto for dinner. You’d be welcome to join us.”

“I’d love to, but I’ve already baked a chicken pie for your mum.”

I smirked. “Yeah, Mum likes chicken. A lot.”

“Tom’s pies are the best,” Mum said, then looked at him with another squeeze of his hand. “His everything is the best.”

Tom kissed her hand, and it was so nice to see. They were loved up, but it wasn’t through rose-coloured spectacles. It was the joy in the caring of something so simple. The tiny gestures.

“You doing the pie with beans on the side?” I asked Tom, and he chuckled.

“Of course. And roasted potatoes.”

“Ace,” I said, and it really was.

I had revision to do upstairs, so I couldn’t stay all that long. My exams were all in progress, lining up sharp like a hurdles race, but I was doing ok. Dare I say it, I was even confident. I could do it and come out with good grades – just as Lola was doing great at her end of term exhibition presentations. She was smashing it. She’d gotten a whole round of applause from the room at the one last night, and I’d been there with Peter and Julian, letting out cheers and whoops when she’d wrapped up.

Life couldn’t be better. Seriously. It really couldn’t.

I hugged both Tom and Mum goodbye with a see you soon and went on my way, ready to practically dance up the stairs to Julian. I’d closed Mum’s door behind me, and reached the stairs on the way up when a sense of deja vu came over me in a wave – transporting me back in time to months ago when I’d been caught in the same act. But it was still a crime then.

I felt Trisha’s eyes on me as she stepped out into the hallway with Ramsay, but this time I didn’t panic, or back away, or feel guilty. I just raised my hand, with a smile on my face, even daring to say hi. This was the first time I’d seen her since the great unveiling of chapter one.

Mum said Trisha was still struggling with processing things and coming to terms with the changes in our lives all round, so I figured she’d have some tutting and fog horning to hurl in my direction, but no. I stayed still as Ramsay tottered on over, ruffling his hair as Trisha locked up their door. I was still standing there as she reached me, and she sighed, not tutted.

“I was looking out for your mum, and looking out for you, too. You might not think it, but I was.”

I could have said so many things in response, criticising, and arguing how things with Julian had been none of her business, but underneath her know it all exterior, I could see the truth. In her version of reality – Crenham Drive – Trisha really did think she was looking out for us. That was only reinforced when she smiled.

“Glad your mum’s finally out to get Scottie locked up. He’s disgusting. Vile prick.”

“Yeah, he sure is.”

“Tom’s much better. She said you’re meeting him today.”

“Just did.”

“He’s nice, isn’t he? She deserves it.” She looked right at me as Ramsay pretended to be an aeroplane, spinning around and making engine noises. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer the door that night, Rosie. I should have done. The thing is, Scottie threatened me, too, and I was scared shitless. I just couldn’t. Not with Ramsay. I just didn’t want to admit it. Just kept talking crap to myself about how he’d get better, but nobody ever does, do they? Leopards never change their spots.”

I didn’t agree with her on that anymore. I’d seen plenty of leopards changing plenty of spots these past few months, but I got her logic.

Mum had already told me that Trisha had admitted Scottie had threatened her, just a few days ago. She was going to be called in as an extra witness if one was needed. So were Julian and I.

“You never said a word he was threatening you as well,” I said. “Mum had no idea.”

“No. I didn’t tell her. Didn’t want to put more shit on her plate. But maybe it would have helped. I dunno. It probably would.” She shrugged. “Oh well. We’ll never know now, will we? My fucking bad.”

She went to walk away, but I stopped her with a wait, Ramsay still pretending to sail the clouds.

“How are you feeling about things with me now? Do you still hate Julian?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. Your mum says he’s nice. Says he’s helped you loads. She even tried to shove chapter one in my face last night.”

I could imagine.

“Are you going to read it? Maybe it’ll help you make up your mind.”

“Maybe.”

“Please do,” I said, and took my first step upstairs, but she gave me a wait this time.

“Do you really want that? After everything? Does it really matter what I think about the man upstairs?”

I weighed that up, and no, it didn’t. Not really. People could think what they liked about Julian, and it could be as bollocks as they liked, because their words wouldn’t touch either him or me. Not anymore. But still. She was Mum’s best friend, for her faults, and her small-minded ways, and her trumpet mouth, and I held true to my own beliefs – leopards can change their spots, and people can learn from their mistakes.

“Yeah,” I told her. “It does matter what you think. And I’d like that. I’d like you to read chapter one.”

She smiled, looking almost relieved.

“Then I’ll give it a read. Your mum can bring it round when she’s done with loverboy tomorrow morning.”

“Great. Thanks.”

Ramsay got bored of his aeroplane arms so Trisha walked on after him, shooting me a final glance over her shoulder.

“I’m happy you’re happy. And I’m happy your mum’s happy, too.”

“Thanks,” I said again, and watched her leave, her leopard spots already changing just a fraction in front of my eyes.

Wow. I was coming to be an optimistic person, and who’d have ever thought it when I was holed up with Scottie and Mum before things took a turn for the better? With our beach break in Tenby looming, and a night out in Worcester city, and the signs of the grand move for Julian and me on the horizon, optimism was the only thing I could know. I was blessed. And so was Mum now. Thank God, so was Mum.

Julian was waiting for me when I stepped through the door, just like always. He had a new shirt on which looked gorgeous. Dark green to match his eyes.

“Well, did you like Tom?”

I grinned my head off. “I loved him. He’s great. Really, really great. He’s even made Mum a chicken pie for dinner.”

“Excellent. I can’t wait to meet him myself.”

“Maybe later, when they’re done? I could drop Mum a message?”

His piercing eyes met mine.

“I’d love to meet your prospective stepfather, yes. He’s welcome over whenever you’d like, as is your mother.”

“Steady on!” I said, realised I’d used Julian’s favourite words and then giggled and covered my mouth – just like I always did. “I don’t think we should be buying new hats just yet. A chicken pie isn’t engagement fuel.”

“Steady on indeed,” he said, “But it’s got nothing to do with chicken pie. It’s to do with you. With the faith shining through you, having seen him with your mother for yourself. I know you wouldn’t give that easily, sweetheart. You’ve had a lot of experience to judge it by.” He waved a finger at me. “Don’t even think of saying thanks for that compliment.”

I poked my tongue out. “Thanks anyway. I’ll never stop saying thanks and you know it.”

“Just as you’ll never stop pushing your glasses up your nose, no matter how fitted the frames get. It’s a tiny one of the many, many things I love about you.”

I dropped my bag on the sofa, took out my phone to type out a message to Mum, then cast my phone onto the coffee table before I dared to ask Julian the question. After his early hours admission a few nights ago, I couldn’t not…

“Have you heard anything?”

He carried on through to the kitchen, not meeting my eyes. Hurting. Scared. Heart on trial.

“No. Not yet.”

“It’s still early days, remember?”

“The postal service is very quick, Rosie, and you know it. I’m not feeling all that optimistic, but at least I can say I tried. And maybe I’ll try again one day, who knows?”

I did. And I’d be behind him every step of the way – helping him build bridges with the people he loved, just as he had with me. Feeling the pure relief of having my mum back in my life had only reinforced how much Julian must be desperate for his children, and his brother, and even some of his old friends. Damn, even Katreya, to an extent. After all, he had been ready to lose his life over losing them, and he would have done if I hadn’t knocked on his door that night.

“You could drive over there, to Oxford,” I said, but he shook his head.

“Not if it would hurt them. It could burn bridges even further, and rightly so. Screams and hurt on top of hurt is the last thing any of them need.”

“But what about you? What do you need?”

“You,” he said simply, still trying to brave it through his pain.

The risotto was ready to prepare, ingredients laid out in the kitchen. Julian started frying it up and I put the kettle on, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind.

“It’ll be ok, you know. One day. They won’t be able to live without you for ever.”

“I admire your faith in me. I’m certain, however, that they’ve lost theirs.”

He’d told me roughly what he’d put in the letters to them, and how he really had opened his heart and offered it on a platter. If only they’d take it. If only even one of them would so much as look at the olive branch he was waving and see him for the beautiful soul he was, despite his flaws.

I watched him cooking, and he turned the conversation back to Tom, keeping it there until our dinner was ready.

“Here’s to us,” Julian said at the dining table with our risotto, holding up his juice glass in a toast. “And to your mother. To Beverly and Tom.”

He laughed out loud as our clink of glasses was met with a knock at the door, and I realised my phone was still on the coffee table. I hadn’t seen Mum’s reply. Duh.

Oh my God, here it was… Tom and Mum meeting Julian together. All four of us. It felt like a major event, not just some people hanging out together.

“They can have some risotto if they’re still hungry,” Julian said as he crossed the living room to answer, but I doubted that would be the case. I was sure they’d be stuffed from Mum’s favourite meal.

“Hey!” I called out as I heard the door open. “Sorry! I missed your messages!”

But there was no answer. Not so much as a sound. Nothing.

“Is that you, Mum?” I called out. “Julian? Is that Mum?”

Nothing. Only silence. And there was something in the air. Something tense and ominous, and enough to make my heart race. I was up from my seat, risotto forgotten as I dashed across the living room to find out what was going on, and standing there, in the open doorway was a man I’d never seen before, but clearly recognised.

How could I not?

He looked virtually identical to my boyfriend, minus the stubble.

I didn’t know what to do, so just looked between a silent Julian and his silent brother, both of them staring at each other. I was hoping for a grand reunion, tears and hugs, but Julian looked choked up, confused, and his brother looked stoic, jaw gritted. He had a letter in his hand. The letter in his hand, no doubt.

“Are you going to let me into this shithole, then?” his brother asked him, without so much as shooting me a glance. “We’ve got a fuck of a lot to get talking about, don’t you think?”