Chapter Fourteen
Kat’s To-Do List
FIND OLD TO-DO LISTS!!! Buy a new notebook
Book design appointments (kitchen/bathroom)
Thank-you card for Pat (for brownies)
Redesign social club event flyers (they are gross)
Call Mum back
‘So, just so I can get this right, you’ve moved in with your builder.
’ Willa’s familiar voice came down the phone.
She had texted me about fifteen minutes earlier: Free for a chat?
I would usually be fast asleep at seven in the morning if it weren’t for the fact Liam mentioned he left the house at seven thirty.
Plus, it wasn’t like I’d slept.
I’d been too excited to start the renovation, so I was up at five a.m., like a kid at Christmas.
Willa continued, ‘The builder you’re paying has offered you somewhere to live?’
‘Well, yeah, but it’s not as bad as you think. He’s a mutual friend, I guess. He’s close with my uncle and auntie. And he grew up with my cousin, Lydia. And he came to my dad’s funeral.’
The explanations came tumbling out of me, and I internally winced at the defensive tone. I did not mention the whole car park debacle but listed off my justifications with no sense of shame.
‘Isn’t that a bit weird?’ Willa asked gently.
‘No. Yes. I don’t know.’ I slapped my hand on my head. ‘I think we’re friends now. Kind of.’
‘Friends?’ Willa repeated.
I thought Liam and I were friends. Kind of.
We seemed to have settled into a suspension of hostilities since the afternoon tea event at the club.
Mostly. He had offered me somewhere to live and made me dinner.
Friends did that sort of thing, didn’t they?
And we’d both agreed that if I lived here, I would rebrand his business in return.
Friends helped each other out.
‘Yes, friends.’
I could hear Willa’s scepticism from the pause down the phone.
‘Be careful, okay, Kat. What do I always say –’
‘Don’t shit where you eat.’
‘Don’t shit where you eat,’ she repeated with vigour.
‘And you’re living with the man renovating your bloody house.
What if he makes a move on you, and you have no choice but to accept?
I know he’s a family friend, but – just lock your doors.
’ She paused. ‘But I suppose he has the keys, doesn’t he?
Given it’s his house.’ I could hear her frown down the line.
‘I’ll be fine, Wills. I promise.’
‘It’s the power balance –’
‘I’m rebranding his business in return for staying here. And you know how much I could charge for that if I wanted to.’
Willa hummed, still unsure.
‘And I’ll keep you updated. It’s all on track to finish in two months. Then, I’ll be back in London; I can buy my own place and be ready to start work again. All of this chapter about my dad will be behind me. And you won’t have to worry about me.’ I ignored the deflated feeling that gave me.
‘I always worry about you,’ Willa said dryly.
‘Hey!’ I complained. ‘How are things at work?’ I changed the subject away from my liabilities.
‘Fine.’ A single-word answer was all I was going to get.
‘And John?’
John was Willa’s on-again, off-again boyfriend.
I fucking hated John. Willa was the Miranda to my Carrie, always more practical than me, but it didn’t always mean she was invincible.
Even if she’d prefer it that way. John – or as I like to call him, ‘fuck-face John’ – was controlling and manipulative.
When I’d first met him, I’d had an instant visceral hatred response.
We’d met in the new buzzy restaurant in Soho, and all night, John had subtly controlled Willa, monitoring what she ate and drank.
I thought maybe I was going mad because everyone else seemed to like him; even Willa’s dad, who was notoriously hard to impress, seemed to like him. They went golfing together.
After six months, John persuaded Willa to rent an apartment with him, but he paid no rent because he had to ‘keep up repair costs’ for his piece-of-shit canal boat.
Yes, he lived on a canal boat.
Since then, John had shown his true colours. He’d cheated on Willa twice, but she took him back. She was hurt and resentful when I tried to host a mini-intervention to point out how horrible he was. So, we don’t often talk about John.
But since I wasn’t in London, if the shit did hit the fan, I wasn’t going to know about it.
However, I promised myself that I’d trust my gut from then on. I’d trust that part of me that knew something was off, that raised the hair on my arms. It was like my spidey sense.
‘We’re not together.’ Another minimal word answer.
‘Oh.’
When I’d left London, they were back together.
‘He’s out of the picture. For good now.’
‘That’s good…’ I said, unsure of what I should say.
‘Yeah, I thought you might be pleased.’
‘Willa –’
‘It’s fine, Kat. More importantly, when can I come up to visit? I want to assess this new housemate you’ve got. Check everything’s above board.’
‘He’s not a housemate, Willa.’
‘Well, he kind of is, isn’t he?’
‘He – it’s a weird arrangement.’
‘If he even thinks about touching you without your consent –’
‘Don’t worry, mama bear,’ I chided. I wish she extended this protectiveness to herself.
‘I have family that would knee him in the balls if he thought about it.’ After Sandra got up in front of all of Everly Heath to ask for help, I think I could bet on her coming to my defence. And the same with Lydia.
Having a family I could rely on was a strangely nice feeling.
I was about to put off a Willa visit when I glanced over at Liam’s house. He was stood in the window looking out at the garden and donned his usual outfit – a black T-shirt, utility trousers and steel-capped boots. A familiar, unreadable expression on his face.
He lifted his cup of tea as if to say, Want one?
I gave him a smile and a thumbs-up and internally cringed at the awkward gesture.
‘Wills – I gotta go. Can I call you later?’
‘Sure. Speak to you later.’ And she hung up.
I walked across the pathway to Liam’s house to find the bifold doors ajar.
‘Morning,’ I called out, taking a seat at the island.
‘Morning,’ Liam replied, pushing over the cup of coffee on the kitchen island. ‘I hadn’t expected you up this early.’
‘What do you mean? I’m coming with you.’
‘No, you’re not.’
My smile faltered. ‘Yes, I am. I want to help.’
‘That was not a part of the deal. I said it would be quicker with you out of the way. I can’t be worrying that you’ll fall off a ladder or stub a toe. I have enough to worry about with Jack’s weekly trips to A & E.’
Liam moved to the fridge, pulled out something wrapped in greaseproof paper and put it into a backpack.
I trailed after him. ‘I need to come with you.’
‘Tough.’
‘Liam – come on.’
‘Don’t “come on” me.’
I snorted.
‘Childish,’ Liam chided.
‘I hate to point it out, but it’s my house, so I have every right to be there.’
He glanced up, his brows knitted together. He would get some serious lines if he kept frowning this much.
‘Wouldn’t you rather stay here and relax?’ He gestured to the lounge. ‘I have Sky.’
I laughed. There was something cute about his innocent suggestion. Like I was itching to catch up on the latest season of Yellowstone.
‘I’ll go mad here. I’m serious. I don’t have an “off” mode.’
Liam stopped and stood at the island, pressing his hands on the worktop, levelling me with a serious look. ‘There isn’t anything you can do.’
‘I can’t knock plaster off some walls?’
‘No.’
‘Then, can I come to take some videos? I was up all night on Instagram, scrolling through house accounts. I’ve started one, so I can see how far we’ve come. Something to remember.’
Liam’s lips were a fine line. He looked me over, doing that scanning thing again.
‘Fine.’
‘Yes!’ I beamed. ‘Thank you.’
‘But no getting in the way.’
‘I won’t.’
‘And don’t touch anything.’
‘No touching.’
‘And don’t do anything that can land you in A & E. I’m busy enough.’
I saluted. ‘Yes, sir.’
Liam shook his head. ‘You’ll be the death of me.’
I smiled brighter. ‘I won’t, I swear.’
‘We’re leaving in five minutes.’
Liam walked down the hall, and I swear I could hear him mutter something about wrapped around my finger, leaving me laughing into my coffee cup.