So Now You're Back Read online

  Luke had always been smart.

  ‘The but is, I’m afraid I’ll have to head home sooner than expected. I’ve booked a cab to take me back to Atlanta tonight.’

  He put his fork down slowly, carefully. ‘Why?’

  ‘I had a Skype call with Lizzie and Aldo about an hour ago, and something’s not right at home.’ It was the absolute truth; her mother’s intuition was never wrong about this stuff. Well, apart from Lizzie’s anorexia that wasn’t, but she’d been under a lot of stress then.

  Luke’s eyebrows rose up his forehead. She’d expected surprise, even irritation; they’d had an agreement, after all. An agreement that she was being forced to break. What she hadn’t expected was for him to look so stunned.

  A tiny piece of her heart broke off inside her chest. She steeled herself against it. How easy would it be to fall for the man, the way she had once fallen for the boy? This was exactly why she needed to cut and run. Not that she was cutting and running; she had a perfectly good explanation for leaving early.

  ‘What’s wrong, exactly?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s, well …’ She scrambled around for a way to make her case convincingly. ‘It’s nothing specific. I just have a feeling that something’s not right. Lizzie was much perkier than usual. She asked me questions about the book tour. Which is not like her at all. She never shows an interest in my career.’

  ‘You told her you were on a book tour?’

  Was that accusation she detected in his tone? ‘I had to think of something to explain a two-week trip. I told you why I couldn’t tell her the truth.’ Even if those reasons seemed a tiny bit spurious and self-serving now.

  And, obviously, she should have come up with a much better cover story. But she wasn’t a fricking journalist. And she hadn’t expected Lizzie to suddenly become curious about her career after six long years of sulky apathy and seething resentment.

  ‘OK, what else?’ he said.

  ‘What else, what?’

  ‘What else is making you uneasy? Because I’m not seeing Lizzie being inquisitive about your career as a major problem here. Or not one that requires you to go hightailing it back to the UK four days ahead of schedule and break our agreement.’

  ‘Haven’t you got enough now for your article?’ she countered, struggling to suppress the sharp pain under her breastbone at his pragmatic response.

  What had she expected? That he would beg her to stay? Of course the article was his main concern now. He’d got the only other thing he had wanted already—her agreement to let him contact her directly about Lizzie. Everything else—the hot sex, the candid conversations about their past, the growing sense of companionship and intimacy—had probably just been added extras to him, and not something that he obviously considered a top priority.

  Luke had never been the hopeless romantic in their relationship. That had always been her … Which was exactly why she wasn’t going to be spending another night in his arms and risk losing her grip on reality.

  ‘We had an agreement,’ he said, his expression strained. ‘You want to duck out of it, that’s fine, if there’s a problem at home. But I’d like a bit more clarity on what exactly the problem is.’

  Temper flickered under the hollow feeling of hurt. ‘Aldo was behaving weirdly, too. The two of them were suspiciously pally. And I didn’t get to speak to Trey.’

  ‘Who’s Trey?’

  ‘Aldo’s au pair. He’s twenty-one. Aldo adores him. And he’s very responsible and conscientious. I check in with him every time I ring or Skype them. Just to make sure there’s nothing wrong. But Lizzie cut me off before I could speak to him. I don’t even know if he was in the house.’

  ‘What did Lizzie say?’

  ‘Nothing, I didn’t get a chance to ask her about Trey. And when I rang his mobile, it went straight to voicemail.’

  ‘No, I mean, didn’t you ask Lizzie if everything was OK?’

  ‘Of course I did, and she said everything was great and so did Aldo. But that’s not the point …’

  ‘Then what is the point?’

  ‘You’re making me sound paranoid,’ she countered. He was doing that journalist interrogation thing again. Flustering her and making her sound stupid. ‘I’m not paranoid. I know when something is off with my kids.’

  He covered the fist she had clenched on the table. ‘I’m not saying you’re paranoid. But is it possible you’re overreacting?’ She could almost hear him thinking about the anorexia-that-wasn’t-anorexia panic attack. ‘Lizzie’s eighteen, Hal. She’s a bright kid and she’s mature and sensible when she wants to be. Why do you think she and Aldo would be lying about everything being fine?’

  She tugged her hand out from under his. Feeling badgered. And defensive. And patronised. She knew she’d made mistakes with her kids. Maybe she hadn’t always trusted Lizzie enough. And maybe she hadn’t always been one hundred per cent as honest with them both as she should have—certain phantom US book tours being a case in point. But she’d spent a lot more time with Luke’s daughter than he had. And he’d never even met Aldo.

  ‘You’ve never seen Lizzie and Aldo together,’ she said. ‘Lizzie may tell you how much she loves her little brother, but what I’ve seen in the past six years is a lot closer to Alien vs Predator than The Care Bears Movie. The two of them suddenly being best buddies would be fabulous if it were true. But I want to go home and check out what’s going on for myself.’

  Even if I’m starting to sound totally paranoid to myself now, too. Thanks so much, Carl Bernstein.

  ‘And I don’t need your permission to do it,’ she added. ‘So I’m not even sure why we’re having this conversation.’

  ‘We’re having this conversation because we agreed that we’d start parenting Lizzie together,’ he said with aggravating patience. ‘If you say there’s a problem, I’m not going to argue about that.’

  ‘Thanks a lot,’ she said, not hiding the bite of sarcasm.

  So what exactly had he been doing for the past five minutes?

  ‘What time’s your flight?’

  ‘Ten. I’m getting a connecting flight through Chicago.’ She glanced at the clock on the wall, swallowing down the lump of regret at the realisation she had less than an hour left with him before the cab was due to arrive.

  They wouldn’t even have time to check out Luke’s bakery porn fantasies. She dispelled the thought with an effort as her thighs went all quivery.

  It was for the best—she already had enough addiction issues where this man was concerned.

  ‘The cab’s arriving at three,’ she replied.

  He stacked their plates, the remains of the pancakes that their conversation had interrupted congealing on the plate. And she suddenly had a silly wistful moment about that, too. Not realising until that precise second how much she’d wanted to cook a meal for him one last time.

  ‘Cancel the cab. I’ll drive us to the airport.’

  Her heart rate began to trot at the generous offer. God, she really did have it quite bad. She’d got out just in time.

  ‘That’s sweet of you, but not necessary. It’s a six-hour round trip.’

  He glanced up from the dishwasher. ‘Don’t be daft, Hal. I’m not coming back here. I’m coming with you.’

  Her heart rate shot straight to a gallop. ‘But you’ll have to change your flight. And what about the article?’ And my grand plan to make a clean getaway?

  He dumped the frying pan into the dishwasher and slammed it closed. ‘I’ve got enough for the article. And changing my flight’s not a problem. I’ll do it when we get to the airport.’

  He took her hands in his and her sweaty palms started to tremble.

  ‘I was going to wait until we left on Saturday to have this discussion. But we might as well have it now.’

  ‘What discussion?’ She tried to tug her hands loose, but he held on tight.

  ‘We need to do this together.’

  ‘Do what together?’

  ‘Go back to your place tog
ether. Speak to Lizzie together. Tell her what’s been going on.’

  ‘What?’ She yanked her hands free, her pulse ready to jump right out of her wrist. ‘But we can’t. It’ll only confuse her.’

  And me. It’ll confuse me. Even more than I’m already confused.

  ‘How?’ he said, using that eminently sensible tone that was starting to seriously piss her off. And make her panic go through the roof.

  She could feel a trap of her own making starting to close around her.

  She’d promised Luke a more substantial role in his daughter’s life. A role that she’d inadvertently denied him. And she’d been right to do that. But she wasn’t ready to let him back in to this extent. Not yet. And especially not after the events of last night. Their lives had to remain separate, or at least separate enough. She didn’t want to fall victim to the same unrealistic expectations that had caught her out once before where he was concerned.

  ‘Because she’ll know I’ve lied to her,’ she said. ‘About the book tour. If she really has turned a corner in her attitude to my work, I don’t want to jeopardise that.’

  ‘Were you seriously planning to go home and invent a whole book tour for her benefit?’

  ‘Well …’ Yes, actually.

  ‘Listen to me, Hal. Can’t you see that’s exactly why we need to do this together. She’ll have questions and lots of them. And it would be much better if we were both there to answer them. We’ve both been pretty damn childish about this for sixteen years. And, whether we intended it or not, Lizzie got stuck in the middle. Let’s put her feelings first for a change. You’re not the only one who’s lied to her. She asked me about what happened to us and I never told her the truth, either. Because I was too ashamed to admit that I’d run away. But I’m not running any more. We need to be straight with her, even if it’s going to be hard, so she doesn’t get stuck in the middle again.’

  She blinked, her heart sinking to her toes, hating his passion and determination and the fact that he was making so much sense. His insistence on being a good father to their daughter wasn’t going to make him any less irresistible as a man.

  A man who always had been, and always would be, far too dangerous to love.

  ‘Come on, Hal. You know it’s the right thing to do,’ he coaxed.

  ‘All right,’ she said, admitting defeat.

  How could she argue with him, when it was the right thing to do for Lizzie? Just not the right thing for her.

  ‘You better get packing,’ he said. ‘You’ve got about ten times as much stuff as me.’ He ran his thumb across her bottom lip, the heat and affection in his gaze crucifying her. ‘I guess we’ll have to take a rain check on my bakery porn fantasies.’

  Thank God for small mercies.

  She left him, the trap clamping shut around her heart.

  Chapter 20

  ‘Where’s Trey?’

  Lizzie bit back the retort as Aldo’s anxious gaze darted over the crowd at the school gates, searching for his invisible au pair.

  ‘He’s busy,’ she replied. ‘We had fun yesterday, didn’t we?’

  She’d taken him to the cinema to see the latest Marvel superhero movie after school—sitting through enough CGI pyrotechnics to make her head explode.

  Maybe she wasn’t the Aldo Whisperer, but she was doing her best. Especially as she didn’t have a clue where Trey had been since yesterday morning.

  He hadn’t come home last night and his phone had gone to voicemail all day today. She had a hideous feeling his mum had died. And while the thought of that was bad enough, worse was the worry, writhing in her stomach like a bucket of worms all day, about how he might have reacted. Had he gone on a bender? Was he wandering around West London in a daze of grief? It wasn’t like him not to call her back and let her know what was going on.

  Plus, her mum had been suspicious when she’d Skyped yesterday evening, and Lizzie had nearly cracked and told her the truth.

  She’d never had any problems lying to her mum in the past, about homework, school and Liam … But she was worried about Trey. Worried about what he might be going through. And she had this insane urge to ask her mum what she should do. Should she go round to Trey’s flat? Make sure he was all right? Would he want her to?

  But she couldn’t ask her mum’s advice without breaking the promise she’d made to Trey.

  ‘What’s he busy doing?’ Aldo whined. ‘He promised to take me to Laser Quest today because it’s the last day of school. I want him here. Not you.’

  The ingratitude of the comment stung. Lizzie’s temper spiked. As if she didn’t have enough on her plate already without getting the Gestapo treatment.

  ‘His mum probably just died. So why don’t you stop thinking about yourself for two seconds?’

  ‘His mum died?’ Aldo’s face collapsed, bringing Lizzie back to her senses, several seconds too late. ‘When? Why didn’t he tell me? Doesn’t Trey want to look after me any more?’ The whine in Aldo’s voice might have been aggravating, but for the edge of panic. Aldo had always been chronically insecure. She guessed it came from not having a dad, and having no mates at school thanks to his angry Arthur routine of the past few years. ‘Is he ever coming back?’

  ‘He is coming back. He wouldn’t just leave us,’ she said, to reassure herself as much as Aldo.

  Trey’s mum was dying; of course he couldn’t think about them right now.

  But she knew how much Aldo missed him. Because she missed him, too. That sure, solid presence that she’d come to depend on in the past week and a half.

  What felt weird, though, was knowing she was the grown-up in this situation. Without her mum or Trey there to take the slack, Aldo was counting on her to say and do the right thing.

  ‘How do you know?’ Aldo said, still scared.

  ‘Because I know Trey. He’s not like that. He likes you.’ And I hope he likes me, too. ‘And he likes his job. He certainly wouldn’t leave without telling us.’

  ‘Where is he, then?’

  She walked out of the school, towards home, holding on to Aldo’s hand. The way he clung to her was surprisingly reassuring.

  Perhaps she should just tell him the truth. She hated it when her mum lied to her, and he probably wouldn’t even understand half of it.

  ‘I don’t know if Trey’s mum is dead yet,’ she said, ‘but I know she’s very sick. That’s why he had to go and be with her for a bit.’

  ‘Where is his mum?’

  ‘She’s in a hospice in St John’s Wood.’

  ‘What’s a hospice?’

  ‘It’s a special hospital where people go to die. When they’re very sick.’

  ‘Why don’t we go there, then? So if his mum dies, he won’t be all alone? If our mum was going to die, I’d want Trey there. Wouldn’t you?’

  Lizzie stopped and stared at her brother. Apparently, while she’d been panicking about what the best thing to do was, Aldo had come up with the answer.

  ‘Hi, my name is Lizzie Best and this is my brother, Aldo.’ Lizzie held on to Aldo’s hand while sending the receptionist her most reassuring smile. ‘We’re friends of Trey Carson and we were wondering if he’s here today.’

  ‘Yes, he is,’ the older woman said. ‘Are you here to pay your respects to the deceased?’

  ‘Trey’s dead?’ Aldo’s distressed cry accompanied the massive leap in Lizzie’s heartbeat.

  ‘Oh, no.’ The receptionist smiled, almost amused. ‘I meant Ms Carson. His mother. I just assumed …’

  ‘His mother died, then?’ Lizzie clutched Aldo’s hand to stop it juddering.

  ‘Yes, about two hours ago.’

  Oh, shit, Trey. No wonder you haven’t been answering my text messages.

  ‘Who did you say you are again?’ the receptionist added.

  ‘Lizzie Best, we’re good friends of Trey’s. Really good friends,’ she reiterated, seeing the look of suspicion beginning to cloud the woman’s face. ‘Is he still with his mum, then?’

  ‘He’
s with the funeral director at the moment.’

  ‘Is there anyone else with him?’ she asked. ‘Like a friend? Or some family?’ They would leave if he had someone with him. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe the loneliness she’d sensed was all in her imagination, and he had loads of people to help see him through this. And he didn’t need her or Aldo there.

  The woman’s face softened, and Lizzie could feel her sympathy for Trey stretch towards them across the Formica desk. ‘I’m afraid not. He’s the only authorised visitor Ms Carson’s had since she arrived four months ago.’

  ‘Could we go through? To offer our condolences?’ Lizzie asked, desperate to see Trey. No one should have to do something like this all alone.

  The woman hesitated. ‘I’m afraid only relatives can be authorised to go through. Were you related to Ms Carson?’

  ‘Yes, we’re her …’ Lizzie racked her brains. ‘Her second cousins, once removed.’

  ‘Are we?’ Aldo asked.

  ‘Shhh.’ She shot her brother a shut-up-you-muppet look. And, for once, Aldo actually shut up without arguing, knowledge dawning in his eyes.

  Unfortunately, knowledge had dawned in the receptionist’s eyes, too. And a moment passed as Lizzie waited for that knowledge to turn to refusal.

  She braced to make a run for it, giving Aldo’s hand a warning pump. If they had to, she and Aldo would storm the doors of the hospice.

  But the woman simply indicated the clipboard on the desk, her expression kind and sympathetic. ‘Sign in, then you can go through.’

  Lizzie scribbled their names on the sheet with the time and date. ‘Thank you.’

  She rushed through the doors, tugging Aldo with her, in case the receptionist changed her mind.

  Light shone into the airy corridor from a glass wall on one side, illuminating an open ward on the other. People lay in curtained-off cubicles, the beds wide and comfortable, like normal beds instead of hospital ones. A few patients glanced their way, most didn’t. Lizzie searched the faces, then moved on.

  The heavy scent of air freshener and chemicals hung in the air. The few sounds of conversation were muffled, as if the silence were held at bay by the most tenuous of threads. Her Converse and Aldo’s high-tops slapped against the stripped wood flooring as they rounded a corner.