FIFTEEN
Elton
Rejection stings. It settles in deep and claws at your inside. Being pushed aside and looked over shouldn’t be new for someone who grew up in foster care, I should be used to it. But no, being rejected by Reilly feels like a mark against me.
I’ve never been this obsessive with women in the past. You don’t want to date me? Okay, no stress. I’m a big boy. I can take it. But this isn’t just any woman. This is Reilly. The woman.
I make sure to go in when I drop Neive off for her baking lessons, a small flirt, welcoming smile. I’ve held myself back from touching her in any way, despite how much I crave her when she’s close.
There’s a snap of fingers in front of my face, pulling my attention away from my phone and another draft of a text to Reilly.
“Are you listening, Elton?” MJ snaps. She can be so stroppy.
Neive and I are visiting MJ at the rehabilitation centre for breakfast. A continental buffet breakfast is laid out along one side of the day room.
Large windows look out over a lush green garden.
The marble floors and oversized armchairs try to distract us from the fact we are in a rehab facility.
They’ve designed the building like a modern city hotel.
The purples and blues are meant to be relaxing, but I can’t get past the feeling they are using it to hide the true meaning behind being here.
I can scoff all I want at their decor choices.
This place is the best. Their therapy range is vast and diverse, and MJ has thrown herself into it.
She’s taken to the equine therapy they offer in the New Forest. The thought of MJ riding and grooming horses is a novel idea, but it’s sparked something fresh in her.
Things are going well and she’s preparing to come home.
I feel good about this, she’s putting the work in and she is doing everything she can to be the best mum for Neive.
“I don’t want to, Uncle Elton. No one can make me move!” Neive’s voice is firm and strong, but she can’t hide the edge of a teenager in it.
“Neive, this will be a fresh start for us. A new place where we can focus on rebuilding our relationship.” MJ is clutching Neive’s hands, smiling. It’s good to see the colour back in her eyes, and she doesn’t look gaunt or pale anymore.
They are talking about a potential move away from Dorset. It would be a terrible idea, but MJ is keen to move to Wales once she’s back on her feet, and I want to give her that. I can help her and Neive get settled.
“I have built a life here, Mum. I have friends, and I’m doing well in school.
I’m getting high grades in most of my subjects and my tutor is really helping with maths.
And we can’t leave Uncle Elton. I don’t want to.
Plus, what about my lessons with Reilly?
” At the sound of her name, I find myself paying more attention to what is going on. MJ takes note of my piqued interest.
“The baker?” There’s a slight sneer in MJ’s tone. Here we go.
“Also Uncle Elton’s girlfriend.”
“Not my girlfriend.” I wish she was my girlfriend. We haven’t even managed to move past flirty text messages. I’ve given up asking her out and I’m just hoping I can keep her in my life in any capacity. Not that I don’t plan to try again in the future. Respectfully, of course.
“Only coz you’re arguing.” Neive pops her hood up, crossing her arms and leans back in her chair.
“A girlfriend? Is this where your head is at, Elton? You’re so distracted today. Don’t lose it over a girl. You know how these things end for you.” Harsh but fair. I don’t have the best track record with women.
“Neive, sweetie. Wales is a great idea. Your mum needs a new start, and somewhere like that can give it to you both. You can’t be worrying about me.
I need to be working in London more often, so I’ll barely be here once your mum’s home.
” It’s been a nightmare to find supervision for Neive when I head to London for meetings.
Claire always offers, but she has her own life to deal with, plus she’s my housekeeper, not my childcare.
The odd night here and there is fine, but I wouldn’t want to take advantage of her good nature.
Neive is close to tears as MJ pulls her in for a hug. “We’ve got plenty of time to discuss this. Nothing is happening overnight. But you need to understand this is what is best for us.”
Neive says nothing. I would hate for them to move so far away but I’ll do anything to aid MJ in her recovery. If this is something she feels she needs then it’s something I’ll explore.
I hug MJ goodbye and sign us out. Still nothing from Neive, who storms ahead, slamming the car door as she gets in. I reach across the console for her hand, which she grabs with the force of a scared girl looking for guidance, but still faces forward avoiding my eye.
“I’m sorry if I’m in the way,” she whispers. I choke at the words coming from her, so timid and small. “I get it if you don’t want me around anymore, but I don’t understand why it needs to be Wales.” I don’t miss the disgust in her voice at the word Wales.
“Neive, darling. Look at me.” She shakes her head. “You are not in the way, and I always want you around. Your mum has history here, and we want the best chance of her continued recovery.” I try to reassure her. I can’t believe she thinks I don’t want her around. I love having her here.
“I’ll have no one there. I’ll be lonely.” Tears are now slipping down her cheeks. I don’t know how to do this. What’s the right choice? Where’s the manual?
“I just want what’s best for everyone. We will figure this out.”
“Wales isn’t best for me,” Neive says with a determination that can only be manifested by a teenager.
I have no response to that. If she doesn’t want to go, I won’t make her.
The key now is to placate MJ. I can’t have her relapse, but I won’t put Neive’s happiness on the line.
I’m not ready to make any promises I can’t keep, so I’ll keep quiet for now.
I need to talk to MJ first before letting Neive know and coming up with a new plan together.
~
Back at the house, I’ve shut myself in the study. Neive hasn’t come out of her room since we got home. I’ve told Claire to take her lunch to her room. She doesn’t want to come out. That’s okay, space is a good idea for all of us right now.
Maybe Reilly is right. My life is complicated.
But the thought of her here calms me. The image of her baking in the kitchen comforting Neive.
Her bare feet tapping across the tiles. She’d be wearing cute little shorts and my shirt, so big on her it would hang off one shoulder, her freckled angel face surrounded by her fire-red curls.
She would listen to me as I went through the chaos in my brain and help me pick it apart.
Reilly would know what to do. She has a level head and is empathetic towards others.
She would put Neive first and find a way to make MJ happy at the same time.
Then she would come into my office, and I would lay her across my desk and thank her with my head between her thighs.
My fantasy is interrupted by Claire bursting through the door. She normally knocks, so this uncharacteristic display of worry concerns me. She scans the office, fear sketched on her face, hand on her chest and a wash of tears in her eyes.
“I can’t find Neive.” Her voice is laced with horror.
“What do you mean?” I’m on my feet, dread racing through me.
“I went to see if she wanted to help me with dinner prep. But I can’t find her. She’s not outside. She’s not in the basement. She’s not in here!” She flaps her arms out to prove her point.
“Jeeves!” I yell, but there’s no need as he’s already striding through the door, iPad in hand, phone at his ear. Already in action.
We’ve had attempted break-ins in the past – not when Neive has lived here – and my security has increased tenfold since then. It still doesn’t stop my brain going to the worst-case scenario immediately.
“Elton,” Jeeves says, “I’ve already checked the cameras.
She slipped through the back gate a couple of hours ago with a rather full backpack.
I’m on the phone with a contact who can provide extra help.
” He nods at me slowly, telling me his contact isn’t exactly the police.
I nod back at him, giving the go-ahead to do whatever he needs to do to find her.
He walks out, still talking on the phone, barking orders about hacking into CCTV.
My grip is tight on my phone as I try to call Neive. If she’s running away, she probably won’t answer, but I can’t come up with anything else right now.
“Elton,” Jeeves says, coming back into the room, “she got an Uber from the bottom of Knight Street. I’m getting into her phone now, and we should have a location shortly.” I try her phone again. And text her.
Call me, Neive, I just want to know you’re okay.
Claire is in tears, so I send her out of the office to see if Neive left a note or anything in her room. I can’t think clearly with her in here, breaking down.
I can’t believe she ran away. She’s never left this house without telling me what her plans are. And never alone. Me or Jeeves are always with her. How would she even know how to get an Uber? She’s thirteen! I blame the internet. And me. I really blame myself right now.
“She got the Uber to Bournemouth centre near Chancy Road, which is where …”
“Sunshine Bakery is.” I grab my phone to make the call just as her name pops up. Reilly, she’s calling me. I answer, my hands shaking.
“She’s here, Elton. She’s upset, but she’s safe.” I drop onto the sofa, and my head hangs. My shoulders loosen, and I feel the sting of tears in the back of my eyes. She’s safe.
“I’m bringing her home. But I want to warn you she’s very vulnerable, so if you’re mad, which I’m sure you are, you need to hold it. She needs support right now.”
“I know. I’m over mad. I’m just so relieved she’s okay. I’ll come get her.”
“No, I’ll bring her home to you.” Reilly is firm, which puts me more on edge.
Neive chose Reilly over me. Even she knows the woman is the voice of reason.
“And Elton, me and you need to have a conversation as well.” Oh, she sounds mad at me.