9. Zoey
Zoey
C aleb was still snoring on the sofa when I woke up, dressed in the silky nightdress I’d picked up especially for this stay in London. I’d slept well, even though alcohol usually made me sleep badly, and I put that down to not drinking as much as I’d pretended.
Something else I’d pretended.
I’d wanted Caleb to think I was tipsy, maybe a little drunk, in case he was repulsed by the hint I didn’t want to pretend anymore. Then I could blame the idea on having too much to drink and we went back to normal.
I slipped out of bed, smothering a laugh at how he was half hanging off the sofa. He could sleep anywhere, and I had offered him half of the bed with a promise of a pillow fence, but he’d made some sounds about not knowing whether he had the willpower and then fell asleep where he was lying anyway. My hair looked better for a good brushing and my skin was glowy already. I brushed my teeth and added some moisturiser – I’d shower after coffee.
The nightdress was ivory and lacy, clinging over my boobs and ever so slightly transparent. It was fitted over my waist and stomach, hitting mid-thigh. Caleb hadn’t seen it last night and I wasn’t sure what his reaction would’ve been if he had. He’d been drunker than me, and overly thoughtful, although not keen to share those thoughts, which wasn’t unusual.
He wasn’t a secret keeper, or much of one, not if it was about himself. He’d always been open about how he felt to an extent, but I knew he thought about what he said. He didn’t speak like a publicity campaign, which had always been refreshing, not telling me what he thought I wanted to hear, but his truth.
But last night had been different. He’d held back. Today I knew we would talk, and while I might not like the answer he gave – this was all pretend and had to stay that way – I wasn’t going to go down without testing his response.
Hence the nightdress.
I switched on the coffee machine and heard Caleb make a sleepy moan, starting to rouse. Watching him wake up seemed a little creepy, so I focused on finding the cups – always too small in hotels, why couldn’t they give you decent sized mugs? – rather than him.
Then there was silence.
“Have I died?”
I turned around. He was sitting up on the sofa, shirtless – yes, I stared – and looking handsomely ruffled and confused.
“No, you’re alive. Do you have a hangover?” I faced him so he had a full view of the nightdress. I liked clothes, which was one of the benefits of the career I’d had. Lingerie was one of my passions and in a different life, I might’ve designed it. What I was wearing now made me feel sophisticatedly erotic, as it gave away a little more than a hint about how I was feeling.
Reckless.
I felt like I was about to soar from a cliff, and it didn’t matter about the sea beneath me because I knew I could fly. The sort of reckless that comes from anticipation, like a Friday night when you’re sixteen and the weekend means freedom and possibilities.
I wanted to see what more with Caleb could feel like. I wanted to explore what could happen now I didn’t have my wings clipped by record label executives and the expectations of fans and the media. I had financial security and the world at my feet, and the wisdom that came with navigating a life in the public eye.
“I don’t. That’s not what you usually sleep in.” He blinked a few times, staring at the nightdress and what was underneath it and then raising his gaze to my face. “What’s going on, Zo?”
In the last two weeks of living with Caleb, I’d concluded that I didn’t want to just be his friend. The idea of seeing him with another woman just wasn’t sitting well. The idea of me being with someone else while he was around sat as equally unpleasantly. I found him stupidly attractive, and having to put on a show pretending we were a couple felt too good.
Maybe it was because the rest of my life was changing I wanted to cling on to the person who’d been my anchor for more than the last decade and this was fleeting and I could wreck my most amazing friendship – I’d thought about both those things at length. Almost as much as I’d thought about how Caleb’s erection had felt pushed up against me that night we slept in the room at the Puffin Inn.
“I wanted to see what you thought of it?”
He picked up a cushion and held it over his face with a groan.
“I can see your nipples.”
I glanced down. Yep, they were definitely visible.
“They look good.” They really did. I liked my body, usually with a little more curve than what the tour had taken off me, and I especially liked my boobs. “You’ve seen them before.”
He moved the cushion onto his lap and squinted at me. “You know I only have so much resolve, don’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Zoey - ”
“Do you remember what I said last night? About pretending to be pretending?” My heart pounded, preparing itself for rejection.
He nodded, not looking away. “We’ve blurred the lines.”
“We have.” I moved to sit down next to him, pleased that his eyes went to my tits. “I like kissing you. I like you being handsy with me. That isn’t a new thing.”
He put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side for a hug. He smelled of sleep and last night’s aftershave and him. It was one of my favourite smells.
“I like kissing you too. It’s hardly a hardship.” He cracked a smile. “I still think about when we slept together.”
“I do too. I meant what I said – you wrecked me for everyone else and you were only eighteen. Was that your peak?” I poked at his chest and then let my hand sprawl there, feeling his warm skin, smooth underneath the dusting of hair.
“Absolutely not. I have far more skills now.” His arm tightened around me. “So you still want to bang my brains out?”
I nodded. “I haven’t had sex for months.”
“Why?”
“Couldn’t find anyone to take a chance on.” And I wasn’t a one night stand girl. I needed a connection that wasn’t just physical. I’d tried one night stands a couple of times and woke up the next day regretting it, not knowing the person next to me. I’d tried the friends with benefits with one of my security guards on tour once and it’d just made things awkward.
“So you have an itch you want me to scratch?”
“Basically, yes.” Which was untrue. I wanted him to be mine, not some other woman’s.
“A favour, like when I took your virginity.”
“I gave you my virginity. You didn’t take it.” I’d held the power that night, which was probably why I’d chosen him.
“I like that better.” He ran his fingers up and down my arm, making my skin tighten, including my nipples. “I also like the nightdress.”
“I thought you would.”
“Are you trying to seduce me?”
I nodded. “Is it working?”
“I’m trying very hard for it to not work right now. I don’t know, Zoey. Scratching an itch is one thing, messing about when we were a bit more than kids is another, but getting involved now – I want to, but – ” He shrugged and shook his head. “Every time I’ve told a girlfriend I’m not attracted to you, I’ve lied. If we cross that boundary now when we’re not exactly kids anymore – it’s going to change things.”
I felt my heart sink.
“You have a ton of change going on at the moment. What if this is just because of that?” He looked more earnest than I’d seen him for a while.
I rested my head against his shoulder so I didn’t have to look at him. “It could be. I don’t know what my plans are going to be but I’m serious about having a base in Puffin Bay. I don’t want things to be awkward between us. Ever.”
He dropped a kiss on my hair. “You look fucking amazing in that, and all I can imagine right now is ripping it off you and fucking you into oblivion on this sofa, but I’m still not sure it’s a good idea.”
“What about just for while we’re in London?”
I saw him almost waiver. Standing up, stretching just because of the effect I knew it would have on him, I then started to back away into the bathroom, instinct and desire casting some ancient knowledge, and I felt more sure than I should.
“I don’t think so, Zo. We’re going to need to keep this pretence up for a few more months. I don’t know how we can go back to just being friends and nothing else when we get back to Puffin Bay if we cross that line now.” He stood up, his erection obvious through the sweats he’d slept in. “I’m not going to pretend I don’t want you.”
“I don’t think you could.” I couldn’t stop staring at his dick. He was big, something I hadn’t realised until I’d had a couple more experiences with other men, and I knew he’d been talented with it more than a decade ago. “Let me know if you change your mind. I’m going to shower.”
I made sure I used my noisiest vibrator while I was in there just in case he heard me.
We headed to a restaurant in Mayfair to meet with Josh Bills, the singer/songwriter who we’d danced to last night. He’d contacted me through Carissa, who he knew anyway given he was one of the biggest players in terms of singer/songwriter at the moment. We’d then arranged this meet up, taking the opportunity when we were both in the same city.
I knew what Josh was interested in – he wanted to co-write an album, a concept one, which charted a relationship break up and the fall out if the couple tried to remain friends. We’d had a quick chat about it last night before he’d gone on set.
This was the formal meeting to work out whether we were compatible, whether we had enough chemistry to give the project depth, and that was a big thing for him.
My career had been different; while we were both commercial, he’d had a lot more say early on as to what music he produced, whereas I was a commercial doll, certainly at the start.
Hence I was where I was right now.
“Are you sure you want me with you?” Caleb frowned at me, hands in his jean pockets. “There are two comic shops over there and I think one of them has the Batman graphic novel I’ve been after.”
He was ridiculously cute when he was being unashamedly geeky. Today he had his glasses on that made him look like a really hot nerd.
“I need you with me.” I slipped my hand through his arm. “If I get papped sat with Josh, the rumours will start that he and I are having a romantic meal or something, and that’s not a good idea.”
“Cash,” he said, nodding. “But Josh is married, isn’t he?”
“He is. Happily. His wife’s pregnant with baby number two, and I think he has every intention of at least baby number three coming along too. I don’t want the rumours, neither does he, so your presence is needed. I’ll treat you to a batman comic afterwards.” I grinned evilly at him.
“Graphic novel.”
“Comic.”
“I’m not arguing any more. Are you telling Josh the truth about us?”
I nodded. “I will do. He’s a good bloke. You’ll like him. He has a boat too.”
“What sort?”
“You’re assuming I’d be interested in details like that; ask him yourself.”
It ended up being the second thing Caleb said to Josh, meaning that the first half an hour of the meeting was spent on the fascinating topic of fishing boats in the Nantucket Sound, followed by a conversation I could’ve lived without on the species of sea life that were there.
Maybe I should’ve let Caleb go to the comic store instead.
“Sorry, Zoey, this is your time we’re wasting,” Josh said, scrolling through his photos. “That’s the one I think I might get. What do you reckon?”
It was another boat that Caleb’s opinion was needed on.
Another five minutes went by. I responded to a message from Carissa, who was now happily supportive of my decision, filtering requests from artists looking for songs. While I’d started with manufactured pop, my own tracks interspersing through them, I’d won two Emmys and several other awards for songs I’d written, including a movie theme for a big blockbuster. I wanted more of that and less of my face in the spotlight.
“Would you consider writing any songs as a duet?” He put his phone away.
I nodded. “Absolutely, and I think that’d work great for this album.”
“How about singing with me? Just to record it, not in concert unless you ever fancied that.” Josh looked curiously at me. “I have some ideas for this and talking with your boyfriend has given me more, maybe setting the characters by the sea, keep a theme of water and sailing throughout.”
“Small town country?” I was into this idea.
“Pretty much. Maybe something a little rough around the edges – a hint of Americana. What do you say to recording?” He looked keen. “We can keep the contract fluid and confirm when we’ve finished. I’m thinking twenty-five songs and we whittle it down to the best twelve.”
“I think I’m open to that. I still like singing.” This was going well. “I just don’t want to be on stage anymore.”
“I get that. So how do we work this?”
We spent another hour just talking, the conversation meandering from song writing to industry gossip to his family and London and how careers changed and then back to ideas for songs, which had us both making notes.
Caleb listened in, making the odd useful comment. He’d been around me enough to know how this process worked and had sometimes been the first person to hear a song when it was still in its infancy. His attention broke away from Josh and me when the pretty, rather efficient looking manager came over.
“Caleb? Caleb Tominey? I can’t believe it’s you!”
Caleb stood up and gave the hug she was angling for. “How are you? God, it’s been years.”
“Six of them. How’re you doing?” She noticed me and looked slightly embarrassed. “I’m so sorry for interrupting – I was just so pleased to see you. Hi,” she acknowledged me. “I’m Carrie – I know Caleb from when he was doing his PhD and I was finishing my degree.”
She held out her hand which I took, shaking it briefly. “I’m Zoey – Caleb’s girlfriend.” I gave her my prettiest smile.
“He mentioned you a lot when we were seeing each other. I’m not surprised you eventually fell for his charms.” She gave another, more professional, smile. “I should leave you to it. Caleb, I’d love to grab a coffee and catch up if you’ve time while you’re here and I’m so sorry I interrupted.”
“It’s fine – really good to see you.” Caleb gave her another hug, which I didn’t like and I suspected that was written all over my face.
I got what he was saying. Sleeping together blurred lines that weren’t clear anyway right now, but I didn’t want to see him in Puffin Bay with someone else in his arms that wasn’t me.
I cast that particular thought away, focusing back on Josh and the sketch of a plan to start to work together when he was next free, because for once, it wasn’t my diary that was the issue.
Half an hour later, I almost stumbled over Carrie near the entrance to the bathrooms, my mind elsewhere in the midst of songs and ideas and melodies.
“So sorry,” she said, apologising although it really wasn’t her fault. Her smile made me feel guilty. “You’re really lucky to have Caleb, you know. He’s such a good man.”
“I know. He’s my best friend as well as anything else.” I kept thinking about what the everything else might entail.
Carrie’s eyes brightened. She glanced over to where Caleb and Josh were talking, probably about boats again. “He’s still the best I’ve ever had, so I’m envious of you for that. He’s such a good man as well – he could’ve been an arsehole, but he was just him and lovely.” Her smile softened, maybe some regret in there. “It was always obvious that he was completely in love with you, though. I remember talking to another girl he’d dated – we joked about having a club for Caleb’s ex-girlfriends so we could share our mourning – she said the same thing. None of us had any chance of keeping him because he was always smitten with you.”
I tried not to look surprised.
It didn’t work. “You had no idea?”
I shook my head. “He always had me safely labelled as a friend.”
“Given your job and lifestyle, maybe he didn’t want to put it out there and end up getting his heart broken. There’d have been a queue to fix it if that’d happened.” She gave me another smile. “I’m not after him back. I have a fiancé and while he’s not as good as Caleb in bed, he’s amazing. I’m just loving your love story and that you’ve finally noticed him.”
“Thank you. I’m loving it too.” Although I wasn’t sure exactly what volume I’d been reading.
We headed back to the hotel after the meeting with Josh finished, me trying to focus on the upcoming project and not think about what Carrie had said.
It was always obvious he was completely in love with you.
If it was that obvious, how had I missed it, and if he had been then – it was a while since he and Carrie had been together – was he still now?
Was that why he was reticent to try something more than this pretence.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Caleb interrupted my mist of confusion. “What do you want to do this afternoon?”
You, I want to do you. That was what I wanted to say.
“Maybe just hang out in the hotel room?” Rain was the order of the day’s weather and I’d spent enough time in London to not want to do any sightseeing. Tomorrow I had a meeting at my old house with a packing and removal company to finalise their instructions. In a couple of weeks, I’d be officially homeless as my house was being bought by someone who didn’t need a mortgage, so it was going through quickly.
I needed to decide where I wanted to base myself for the time being and make a commitment.
“Fine with me. I have things to read.” He patted the bag, the contents of which were several graphic novels.
“Cool. I might grab a bath.” I wanted to invite him to join me, but fear stopped me. Had I missed so many signs over the years that something which was completely obvious to someone who’d only known Caleb a few months could see what I’d been oblivious to? I had so many questions, but how did I know Carrie was right?
“You okay? You’re quiet. I thought it went okay with Josh.” He sat down on the sofa where he’d slept the night before. “You seemed enthusiastic like I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“Yeah, I’m excited. I think I need to rent somewhere in Puffin Bay and he can come over rather than me going over to his place in the States. Somewhere I can set up a recording studio.” I tried to divert my thoughts to practical things.
“Something permanent if you’re going to invest in that.” He undid his laces, a movement I became enchanted with.
The practicalities. Being with someone who would come home and take their shoes off, share the same space and make decisions together, rather than it being me and paid advisors. I thought about Caleb’s dad, Roman, and Amelie, how they bickered and teased, working together as a chosen partnership for the simple reason that they wanted to be together.
I looked at Caleb again. He was studying me, so clearly I was acting strange.
“What do you want in the future? Do you want someone to be with you in a relationship?” I swallowed, half bracing myself for his response.
He squinted at me. “Your brain’s working overtime.” A pause.
I didn’t fill it.
“I would, I suppose. I think part of the reason I haven’t moved out yet is because living over a pub means you always have people around, and I don’t want to be on my own.”
“If you lived on your own, you’d have company. I’ve never known you to go long between female company.” Which was true.
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t want it to be like that forever. I know relationships aren’t easy – my mum’s had enough bad relationships over the years – but I see Gully with Iris, and Finn and Ruby, and Roe and Freya, and I watch how they’re building a life together, even though it isn’t always easy. I don’t see myself being on my own forever, Zo.” He put his feet up on the table, his feet now bare.
“Who do you see yourself being with? What sort of person?” My heart had definitely sped up. I felt like I was in the middle of a particularly energetic dance routine.
Caleb laughed softly. “Someone who’ll tease me like Amelie does my dad, who won’t get mad at how untidy I can be and get even instead. Someone who has their own passion so they understand why I have mine, and doesn’t mind me spending time out at sea, or wants to come with me. Someone who knows me and won’t break my heart.”
Me, I wanted to say. Me. I can be all that. I already am all that.
“Do you think you know her already?”
He stood up suddenly, walking over to the window to take in the view over the city, or stare into space, I couldn’t tell.
“Go and get your bath, Zoey. Then let’s go for a drink somewhere.”
“Okay.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. He obviously didn’t want to give anything away. “I’ll be an hour or so.”
I ran the bath, adding some bubbles that had been supplied by the hotel. It was a luxury suite on the top floor; a bedroom with a huge bath looking out through a window with privacy glass, and a large lounge area, as well as a small but swanky kitchenette, the sort of place you might dream of escaping for a night, no matter where, because this was an experience in itself. I’d stayed in many rooms like this, champagne included, and a personal waiter sometimes. At first, it had been a novelty, then that wore off and I knew I was taking it for granted. How could you enjoy things if you took them for granted? One of the many reasons I wanted to step away from the lifestyle and go back to what gave me joy.
Song writing.
Puffin Bay.
Watching the clouds over the sea.
Caleb.
Reverse the order and it was probably more accurate.
I stripped off and tied my hair up, using a cotton pad and lotion to take off my make-up while the bath filled up, debating opening that champagne now. Wrapping a robe around myself, I decided there was no time like now, on what was a kind of mini-holiday, at least for tonight.
Caleb turned around from the window when I came into the lounge, his eyes widening, not saying anything just staring at the robe, which was thin white cotton. I hadn’t thought about what I had on, and this wasn’t the nightdress again where I was trying to tease him into making a move.
“I think I’m going to open the champagne. Do you want a glass – it is four o’clock so it’s not too bougie.” That was my explanation.
He nodded, looking from me to the window adjacent. “I’ll pour it if you want and bring it in. Just make sure you’re decent.” His eyes dipped to my breasts and back to my face. I knew exactly what he was thinking about.
“Are you sure you’d want me decent?” I pushed it.
“No.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure about that at all.”
The air was sucked from my lungs, and I felt lightheaded, like I’d already had too much champagne.
“You’ll have to see what you get then, won’t you?” I headed straight back into the bedroom and closed the door too, trying to recover some wherewithal.
That was the first actual indication that he really was thinking about more. I checked my reflection in the mirror, the size of the room meant it didn’t get steamy. The bath was almost at the right depth, so I slipped off the robe, leaving it in a pool on the floor, and climbed into the bath, the water warm and satiny from the bubbles. Rain hit the window, blurring the view, but that only made it feel cosier.
I had nowhere else to be today, no commitments, no pressures, nowhere I needed to be seen. If I wanted, I could stay here all evening with room service and movies in bed.
With Caleb in bed with me.
I sunk under the water, the bubbles enough to hide under. I heard the sound of a champagne bottle being opened, and then I waited.
Seven Years Ago
“I saw the interview. You did well.”
Caleb’s voice came through the car’s hands-free system crystal clear, which given we were over five thousand miles apart, felt slightly surreal. I wished he was here even if he’d have been trying to spend most of his time next to the ocean.
“Thank you. You’re up late if you’ve just watched it air.” I’d been on one of the big chat shows, filming it this morning, LA time, and it’d been broadcast just now. I hadn’t watched it; I hated seeing myself on screen, and I’d needed to drive myself back from a meeting anyway. I had two more days in America and then I was flying to Manchester, picking up a rental car, and heading to Puffin Bay and Caleb.
“Yeah, I was at a party. I have something I need to tell you.”
“Oh god. Have you got someone pregnant?” I didn’t like that idea for many reasons.
“No, not that.” He laughed. “You’d be a great Auntie Zoey though.”
“I would not. You have me worried now. What do you have to tell me?” My pulse had elevated. I hated surprises and this didn’t sound like a good one.
“I won’t be here when you get back. I’m heading off to Mozambique tomorrow night.” His words were flat, there was no enthusiasm, even though I knew this was a place he’d been dying to visit.
“That’s cool. You’ve always wanted to go there.” I tried to pep up how I sounded. I was gutted I wouldn’t see him. I had a week in Puffin Bay and I doubted Caleb would be back before I headed off to London.
“I wanted to see you. It’s been months.”
“Maybe you can get to London – are you flying back through there or direct to Manchester?” Caleb had often gone through London when he was flying out somewhere for research purposes, meaning we’d managed to snatch a few hours to catch up and have dinner or breakfast, or even just a coffee.
“London both ways. I’m there for three weeks – a place came up on a research project and I’d have been stupid to say no.”
“I get it. How many times have I had to cancel on you. Maybe I’ll fly out to Mozambique and you can show me some fish.” I wondered if I could swing it.
“Surprise me. It’d be great if you can, but I get it if you can’t. That was a huge interview you did.” I heard his fridge open, the sound familiar. “I could feel your enthusiasm.”
“My acting skills were on point then?”
“Very much so. You had me convinced – but who’s the guy you were talking about? The one you thought you might have something serious with? I don’t remember you mentioning anyone recently – was I drunk when you told me?”
I laughed, mainly to bide myself some time while I thought what words to use which weren’t it’s you, you daft idiot. “It’s something to say to throw the press off. They’ll dig and keep talking about me, but find nothing, which drums up its own drama.”
“Makes sense. Me and Niamh have ended, but I probably didn’t need to tell you that, did I?”
“Not really. We were getting up to the three month mark so I knew it’d be happening soon.”
“Yeah, predictable me. I should go to bed anyway. I’m trying to sleep late to make my pattern less fucked up. What are you up to?”
“Driving back to my hotel. I had a meeting the other side of L.A. Then I’m going to have a bath and a really good sleep. I think I got three hours last night.”
“A bath with bubbles, eh?”
“And a glass of champagne. A little bit of luxury.”
“Your life’s full of luxury.”
I laughed. He was right really; luxury, with weird hours and a lack of boundaries across the board, and a lot of graft, sometimes abuse and the odd soul destroying incident. “It is for tonight, but you know what?”
“What?”
“I’d rather be in Puffin Bay with you, above the Inn, even if you haven’t changed the sheets in forever.”
“Well, that is luxury, isn’t it? Semi-stale sheets and the clinging smell of pub food.” He laughed. “Send me a selfie when you get a mo. I’ve forgotten what you look like without all your war paint on.”
“Will do. Sleep well, Caleb.”
I sent him a selfie of me in the bath, up to my neck in bubbles and holding a glass of champagne, make-up free and smiling. He sent me a selfie two days later, him on a plane, a pretty redhead next to him, who I was sure would make Mozambique even more interesting and he wouldn’t miss me in Puffin Bay at all.