One Night: Unveiled, Page 27

  ‘Drat!’ Nan’s polite curse creeps past the wall of fear and has my eyes slowly travelling to the floor, where she’s on her hands and knees with a dustpan and brush, sweeping up scattered sugar and a broken dish.

  ‘Give it to me!’ A pair of hands appear from nowhere, wrestling with her fingers. ‘I told you, you silly old woman. I’m in charge!’ Gregory snatches the pan from Nan’s hand and turns exasperated eyes onto William. ‘All right, geezer?’

  ‘Fine,’ William replies, looking back and forth between Nan and Gregory. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘She –’ Gregory points the dustpan’s brush at Nan, and she knocks it away – ‘won’t do as she’s told. Get her up, will you?’

  ‘For the love of God!’ Nan cries, slapping her palms on her lap. ‘Put me back in that prison they call a hospital because you lot are driving me crackers!’

  My body feels like it’s turned to mush from the overwhelming sense of relief. I cast my eyes to Gregory. He’s giving William a look. A serious look. ‘You should get her settled.’

  William snaps into action, scooting down to collect Nan. ‘Come on, Josephine.’

  I feel a bit useless as I watch him help Nan from the floor. I’m relieved, confused, worried. It’s like he was never here. I didn’t imagine that call, and I definitely didn’t imagine Nan’s chirpy tone in the background. If it wasn’t for the telling look that Gregory just chucked at William, I would be questioning my sanity. But I caught that look. He was here. But he just left? Gregory looks shaken, so why the hell doesn’t Nan look like she’s been terrorised?

  I flinch when I feel a soft warmth brushing up my arm, and look down to see Miller’s perfect hand cupping my bare elbow. It’s only now I wonder where the telling signs of internal fireworks have gone. It’s been too long since I’ve felt them. They’ve been drowned out by too much fretfulness. ‘Maybe you should,’ Miller says, bringing me back into the kitchen where Nan is now on her feet with William’s arm around her shoulder.

  I cough the lump from my throat and take over for William, leading Nan away, while I’m sure Gregory will be filling William and Miller in on the events that have recently transpired. As we enter the room and settle on the sofa, I notice the TV on mute. It spikes a clear mental image of her sitting on the couch with the control in her hand, listening when Gregory answered the door to Charlie.

  ‘Nan, was someone else here with you a little bit ago?’ I set about tucking blankets in around her, refusing to meet her eyes.

  ‘You must think I’m as daft as a brush.’

  ‘Why’s that?’ I curse myself for inviting her to tell me exactly why. I’m the daft one here. No one else.

  ‘I might be old, darling girl, but I’m not stupid. All of you think I’m stupid.’

  I rest on the edge of the couch and fiddle with my diamond, looking down at it as I do. ‘We don’t think you’re stupid, Nan.’

  ‘You must.’

  I look out the corner of my eye and see her joined hands resting in her lap. I don’t insult her further by arguing with her. I don’t know what she thinks she knows, but I can guarantee the truth is a whole lot worse.

  ‘Those three men in there are talking about my guest. Probably figuring out a way to get rid of him.’ She pauses and I know she’s waiting for me to face her. But I don’t. I can’t. Just that little titbit of her conclusion has stunned me and I know she’s not done yet. I don’t need her to see my wide eyes. I’ll only be confirming her thoughts. ‘Because he’s threatened you.’

  I gulp and close my eyes, my ring spinning around and around on my finger.

  ‘Charlie is his name, nasty son of a bitch,’ she says.

  I turn to Nan, horrified. ‘What did he do to you?’

  ‘Nothing.’ She reaches forward and takes my hand, squeezing some reassurance into me. Strangely, it works. ‘You know me, Olivia. Ain’t anyone who can play the sweet old ignorant lady like me.’ She smiles a little, drawing one from me. It’s ridiculous that we’re smiling, given the awful situation we’re in. ‘Daft as a brush, me.’

  I’m staggered by her coolness. She’s bang on the money with her assumptions, and I don’t know whether to be thankful or horrified. Yes, there are a few gaps – gaps I’m not about to fill in – but she has the basic outline. She doesn’t need to know any more than that. I don’t want to do something so stupid as to elaborate on her dotted conclusion, so I remain quiet, contemplating where I go from here.

  ‘I know so much more than I’d like you to believe, my darling girl. I’ve worked so hard to keep you from the dirt of London, and I’m so very sorry that I’ve failed.’

  My brow creases as she works soothing circles into the top of my hand. ‘You know about that world?’

  She nods and takes a deep breath. ‘The moment I clapped eyes on Miller Hart, I suspected he might be connected. William appearing from nowhere when you ran off to America only confirmed it.’ She studies me, and I recoil, shocked at her confession. She pushed Miller and me together. The dinner, everything, she encouraged it all, but she goes on before I can question her motives. ‘But for the first time in forever, I saw your eyes come to life, Olivia. He gave you life. I couldn’t take that away from you. I’d seen that look in a girl before, and I lived through the devastation when it was taken away from her. I’m not going through that again.’

  My heart starts to free-fall into my tummy. I know what she’s going to say next and I’m not sure if I can bear to hear it. My eyes begin to fill with painful tears as I silently beg for her to finish right there.

  ‘That girl was your mother, Olivia.’

  ‘Please, stop,’ I sob, trying to get to my feet and escape, but Nan takes a firm hold of my arm and pulls me back down. ‘Nan, please.’

  ‘These people have taken all of my family from me. They’re not taking you as well.’ Her voice is strong and determined. Unwavering. ‘Let Miller do what he needs to do.’

  ‘Nan!’

  ‘No!’ She yanks me closer and grabs my cheeks, squeezing them harshly. ‘Take your head out of the sand, my girl. You have something to fight for! I should have said this to your mother and I didn’t. I should have said it to William, but I didn’t.’

  ‘You know?’ I choke, wondering what she might hit me with next. I’m being bombarded with too much information for my little mind to deal with.

  ‘Of course I know!’ She looks frustrated. ‘I also know that my baby girl is back and no bleeder has had the decency to tell me!’

  I fly back on the couch in shock, my plummeted heart now sprinting up to my throat. ‘You . . .’ I can’t get my words out. I’m utterly gobsmacked. I’ve grossly underestimated my grandmother. ‘How . . .’

  She settles back against her pillow, all calm, while I remain stuck to the back of the sofa, searching my mind for something to say. Anything.

  Nothing.

  ‘I’m going to take a nap,’ she says, beginning to get cosy, like the past five minutes haven’t happened. ‘And when I wake up, I want everyone to stop treating me like I’m stupid. You can leave me in peace.’ Her eyes close and I instantly take the cue – worried of the repercussions if I don’t. Gradually lifting my lifeless body from the couch, I start to back out of the lounge, faltering once, twice, three times, thinking maybe we should talk more. But to talk, I need to form words, and none are coming to me. I quietly pull the door closed and stand in the hallway, wiping at my eyes and brushing down my creased dress. I don’t know what to do with any of this. One thing is for sure, though. My head has been well and truly yanked from the sand. I’m not sure whether to be thankful or troubled by her awareness.

  Hushed whispers from the kitchen draw me from my pondering and my feet take off across the carpet, taking me to a situation I’m certain will only add to my mixed-up state. On entering the kitchen, the first sign isn’t good. Miller has his head in his hands at the table and William and Gregory are both leaning against the worktop looking on.

  ‘What is it?’ I ask,
filling my voice with strength. I’m not sure who I’m trying to kid.

  Three heads whip around, but it’s Miller who has my attention. ‘Olivia.’ He stands and comes to me. I don’t like that he’s sliding his mask into place, quickly concealing his despair. ‘How is she?’

  His question sends me off into a daze again as I mentally pull together an explanation for how she is. Nothing here is acceptable, except the truth. ‘She knows,’ I utter, worrying that that statement is going to need to be extended. When an inquisitive look jumps onto Miller’s face, that worry is confirmed to be warranted.

  ‘Elaborate,’ he orders.

  I sigh, letting Miller lead me to the kitchen table and sit me down. ‘She knew Charlie wasn’t good news. She knows he has something to do with you two.’ I wave a finger between William and Miller. ‘She knows everything.’ William’s face tells me he already knew that. ‘She’s going to have a snooze now and when she wakes up, she wants everyone to stop treating her like she’s stupid.’

  William lets out a nervous bark of laughter, as does Gregory. I know what they’re thinking, or at least thinking beyond their initial shock at this news. They’re thinking that this is way too much for her to deal with, especially since she’s just been discharged from the hospital. I haven’t the first idea if they’re right. Have I underestimated her? I don’t know, but one thing I do know is that I’m about to put their current shock to shame. ‘She knows my mum is back.’

  Everyone in the room gasps.

  ‘Oh Jesus,’ Gregory breathes, rushing across to me, crouching to give me a cuddle. ‘Oh, baby girl. Are you OK?’

  I nod into his shoulder. ‘I’m fine,’ I assure him, no matter how not fine I am. I let him coo and fuss over me, stroke me and kiss my head repeatedly. And when he pulls away from my seated form, he gazes at me for an age, all fondly. ‘I’m here for you.’

  ‘I know.’ I take his hands and squeeze, then use the opportunity to gauge the faces of the other two men in the room after my shocking news. William has a strange combination of awe and worry on his. And when I look to Miller, I see . . . nothing. He’s poker-faced. His aloofness has fallen into place, but I can see something in his eyes, and I study them forever trying to figure out what it is. I can’t.

  I stand up, making Gregory sit back on his haunches, and approach Miller. His eyes follow me until I’m before him, nearly touching his chest, looking up at him. But he doesn’t take me in his embrace, nor does his straight face crack.

  ‘I need to go home,’ he whispers.

  ‘I’m not leaving.’ I make myself clear before he starts with the demands. I’m not leaving Nan or this house until this is over.

  ‘I know.’ His easy acceptance startles me, yet I keep my composure, not willing to expose any more weakness. ‘I need . . .’ He pauses, thinking for a moment. ‘I need to be at home to think.’

  I want to cry for him. He needs his calm and normal to pull his thoughts together. His world has exploded into chaos and he looks like he could give under the pressure. I understand, really, I do, but there’s a tiny part of me that’s devastated. I want to be the one to settle him – me in his arms, me in his thing. Now’s not the time to be selfish, though. It isn’t just Miller who finds solitude when we’re immersed in each other.

  He clears his throat and looks across the kitchen. ‘Give me the package he left for me.’ A brown padded envelope appears to the side of me, and Miller takes it without a thank you. ‘Watch her.’ Then he turns and walks out. I watch his back disappear down the hallway, followed by the soft closing of the front door. I’m missing him already and he’s only been gone for two seconds. My heart feels like it’s slowing, and stupid as it might seem, I feel abandoned.

  I feel lost.

  Chapter 21

  A hot shower can only settle my nerves so much. When I get out, the house is quiet. After popping my head around the door to check on Nan and finding she’s still sleeping, I follow my feet to the kitchen. Gregory is standing over the stove, stirring something in a pan. ‘Where’s William?’ I ask, joining him by the cooker.

  ‘He’s taking a call outside.’ The wooden spoon bashes against the side of the pot, flicking some of the contents up the tiles on the wall. ‘Shit!’

  ‘What’s that?’ I screw my nose up at the brown slop being frantically whipped around. It looks disgusting.

  ‘It’s supposed to be potato and leek soup.’ He drops the spoon and steps back, taking a tea towel up to his brow and wiping it. ‘Nan will be horrified.’

  I force a strained smile, noticing blobs of goo on both of his cheeks. ‘Here.’ I take the towel and set about wiping him down. ‘How did you manage to get it all over your face?’

  He doesn’t answer, just lets me do my thing, standing quietly watching me. I take far longer than is necessary, until I’m sure I’ve rubbed blisters into his cheeks. Anything to avoid the inevitable. ‘I think you got it,’ he murmurs, taking my wrist to stop my clean-up operation.

  My eyes flick warily to soft browns, then drop to the white T-shirt covering his broad chest. ‘And here.’ I reclaim my hand and start to rub at his chest, but I’m stopped before I can rub him red-raw there, too.

  ‘Baby girl, stop.’

  ‘Don’t make me talk about it,’ I blurt, keeping my eyes on his hand holding my wrist. ‘I will, just not now.’

  Gregory flicks the gas off on the stove and leads me to a chair. ‘I need your advice.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Yes. Willing?’

  ‘Yes.’ I nod enthusiastically, loving him for not pressing me. For understanding. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘Ben’s telling his family this weekend.’

  I bite my lip, delighted I’m doing this to stop myself from grinning. A real grin. Not forced or fake. An actual proper grin. ‘Really really?’

  ‘Yes, really really.’

  ‘And . . .’

  ‘And what?’

  ‘And you’re happy, obviously.’

  He finally breaks and grins from ear to ear. ‘Obviously.’ But his smile fades just as quickly as it appears, making mine fade with it. ‘By the sounds of it, this will come out of left field for his parents. It’s not going to be easy.’

  I take his hand and squeeze hard. ‘It’ll be OK,’ I assure him, nodding when he looks at me dubiously. ‘They’ll love you. How could they not?’

  ‘Because I’m not a bird,’ he laughs, kissing the back of my hand. ‘But Ben and I have each other, and that’s what counts, right?’

  ‘Right,’ I assert without delay, because it really is right.

  ‘He’s my someone, baby girl.’

  Happiness for my best friend soars. Maybe I should be cautious on his behalf. After all, Ben has been a dick on more than one occasion, but I’m delighted he’s finally over what others will think of his sexuality. Anyway, in reality, I’m in no position to pass judgement. Everyone has their demons, some more than others – Miller definitely more than others – but everyone is fixable. Everyone can be forgiven.

  ‘What’s up?’ Gregory asks, snapping me out of my musings.

  ‘Nothing.’ I shake off my wayward thoughts, feeling more alive and awake than I have in . . . hours. Is that all it’s been? ‘That envelope.’

  Gregory’s sudden awkward shifting tells me he knows what I’m referring to. He was there, he saw, so of course he knows, yet I have an inkling there’s more to it, especially given that he’s avoiding my gaze. ‘What envelope?’

  I roll my eyes. ‘Really?’

  His face screws up in defeat. ‘The evil fucker gave it to me. Told me to give it to Miller. You know it’s not the first time I’ve seen him, right? He was that nasty fucker who turned up when you ran off to New York. I happily left him and William in Miller’s flat to their staring standoff. Fuck me, it was like being between two cowboys ready to draw! I nearly passed out when I opened the door to him.’

  ‘You let him in?’ I gasp.

  ‘No! Nan did! He said he was an ol
d friend of William’s. I didn’t know what to do!’

  I’m not surprised. Nan’s more tuned in than any of us are giving her credit for. ‘What was in the envelope?’

  He shrugs. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Greg!’

  ‘OK, OK!’ He starts with the awkward movements again. ‘I only saw the paper.’

  ‘What paper?’

  ‘I don’t know. Miller read it and put it back inside.’

  ‘What was his reaction to what he read?’ I don’t know why I’m asking such a silly question. I saw first-hand what his reaction was when I walked into the kitchen. His head was in his hands.

  ‘He seemed all cool and calm . . .’ He pulls up, thoughtful. ‘Not so much after giving you a hug, though.’

  I snap my eyes to Gregory’s. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well . . .’ He shifts a little, awkward. Or is it worry? ‘He asked casually, you know, whether you and I had ever . . .’

  ‘You didn’t!’ I recoil, fearing all kinds of shit will hit the fan if Miller ever found out about our fumble under the sheets.

  ‘No! But shit, baby girl, I was seriously uncomfortable.’

  ‘I’ll never tell him about that,’ I promise, knowing exactly what he’s getting at. Only Gregory and I know, so unless one of us is stupid enough to mention it, then he will be none the wiser.

  ‘Can I have that in blood?’ he asks on a sardonic laugh. He actually shudders, like he’s imagining what could happen should Miller find out about our silly little hook-up.

  ‘You’re being paranoid,’ I tell him. He couldn’t possible know. Which reminds me. ‘Did he show William the paper?’

  ‘No.’

  I press my lips together, wondering if Gregory is working with Miller and William. That letter, whatever was in it, had my part-time gentleman go into emotional lockdown. He needed to think. He’s gone home to the familiarity and preciseness of his flat to think. And he didn’t take me with him – his self-professed source of therapy and de-stressing.

  ‘I think I’ll pass on the soup,’ William says, strolling into the kitchen. Gregory and I both look across to him, seeing him poking at the contents of the pan with the wooden spoon, his nose wrinkled.