Fix Them Up

Chapter Eighteen

My poor attempt to climb into Liam’s van exposed how tipsy I was. And that I’d signed up for Lydia’s hot yoga class in the morning. And that my filter had completely disappeared.

I’d drank a little more than I usually would, but the day had been a rollercoaster of emotions: excitement, joy, grief, and sadness, all punctuated by the warmth of Liam’s watchful gaze.

I’d grown self-conscious about my tipsy status by my fourth pint.

It was ten o’clock, probably Liam’s bedtime, and he wasn’t drinking.

Surely there was nothing worse than being around a load of drunk people when he was sober?

But Liam seemed happy to sit there, watching everyone else chatter and laugh, sipping a Coke Zero.

Not Diet Coke – Coke Zero.

Sandra whispered that she had ordered it for Liam. ‘Don’t mention it. He’d only say I was making a fuss.’

I glanced his way to find him looking at both of us, sitting in one of the armchairs next to Jack, Lydia, and Freddie, chatting amongst themselves.

‘What are you two whispering about?’ he asked, a fake frown on his handsome face.

Handsome – when had he got that handsome?

His face was so… symmetrical. And masculine.

His jaw was sharp and defined like it could cut glass.

I wanted to rub my face in his five o’clock shadow.

I made a mental note to call Willa and inform her of Liam’s attractiveness. She would want to know.

‘Nothing!’ I shouted back, grinning.

Sandra called last orders and kicked everyone out. Liam followed me out to the van. The heat of his hands brushed my lower back.

‘Do you judge people who do drink?’ I asked, shivering slightly. It was now eleven, so it was freezing. I couldn’t believe how much colder it was up here.

Liam leaned over and flipped on some switches, making heat blast out of the vents. ‘Better?’

‘Yeah, thanks,’ I murmured.

‘I don’t judge people who drink.’

‘Huh?’

‘I don’t judge people who drink.’

‘Why would you judge people who drink?’

‘You asked if I judge people who drink.’ His lips twitched.

‘Oh.’ I hiccupped. ‘Well, you probably should.’

‘Ah, don’t be daft.’ Liam was still smiling.

His smile transformed his face. His features were usually so neutral and cool.

He had a bit of a case of resting bitch face until he smiled, and it was like a switch flipped.

His joy flowed across his features so easily when he wanted to. It was beautiful to watch.

‘You have a nice smile, you know,’ I slurred.

Sober Kat was banging her fists against a locked cage.

‘Thanks.’ Liam smiled wider. ‘You’re nice to me after a drink. That’s another thing to add to my list.’

‘Your list? What list?’

Liam laughed. ‘Nothing. You were talking about my smile.’

‘Yeah, it’s nice.’

‘You’re a lightweight.’

I pouted. ‘I know. It sucks.’

‘Probably ’cos you’re short.’

‘I am not short. I’m bang-on average. Average, average, average. Apart from my IQ, which I have been told is below average, which is nice, isn’t it?’ I hiccupped a laugh.

‘Do you want a rod?’

‘A what?’ I spluttered.

Liam kept his face deadpan. ‘A rod. For all that fishing you’re doing.’

It took me an embarrassingly long time to figure out what Liam was on about. Then the penny dropped.

‘Oh, har, har. Very funny.’

Liam chuckled as he drove us through Everly Heath, the glow of the streetlights setting everything in an orange haze.

‘Stop,’ I shouted, throwing my hand on the dashboard. Liam came to a screeching halt.

‘What’s wrong?’ His eyes were wide, assessing the danger.

‘Can you pull in?’ I pointed to the car park.

I unclipped my belt and ran across the grass, searching.

‘Kat,’ Liam called. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I haven’t seen it yet. I should have seen it by now.’

‘Seen what?’

‘It’s around here somewhere. I just don’t know where.’ I squinted, trying to see the names on the graves in front of me.

‘Wait here.’ Liam returned a minute later with a torch and placed it in my hands. ‘You use this, and I’ll use my phone.’

‘You’ll help?’

‘Are you daft? Of course I’ll help. Let’s split up, and we’ll find him quicker.’

‘You shouldn’t have said that. That’s what you say before you get murdered.’

‘What?’ Liam frowned.

‘In the horror films.’

Liam chuckled. ‘It’s Everly Heath. The biggest crime here is the mystery thief who kept nicking Paul’s pears.’

Liam wandered off, shining his torch on each grave as he went.

‘Who is Paul? Why did someone steal his pears?’ I asked as I took the next row and kept searching.

‘The greengrocer. We found out it was the rabbits escaping from the pet shop next door. It was a mystery for weeks.’

I huffed. ‘This place is bizarre.’

‘Here, Kat,’ Liam said, his voice going soft. My heart leapt. I made my way to where Liam stood two rows behind me. I looked down at the epitaph. James ‘Jim’ Williams. Devoted son, brother, and father.

‘Devoted.’

Liam gave me a curious look. ‘Did you pick it? The words.’

‘No, I let Uncle Brian pick it.’ I rubbed my forehead. ‘Our relationship – if that’s what you could call it – well, it wouldn’t have fit on the granite.’

‘It sounds… complex,’ Liam said, his voice uneasy.

Was I making Liam uncomfortable?

‘Sorry, I’m drunk. A morose drunk, apparently.’

‘It’s fine, Kat.’ He said my name softly, almost reverent. It was nice to hear my actual name from his lips, not the nickname I’d become familiar with.

‘Tell me.’ Liam inched his hand around my arm. He placed his hand on my arm tentatively, reassuringly. We both ignored how I leaned into that touch, my head resting on his shoulder. And we both ignored how Liam’s arms tightened around me.

‘I’m fine.’

‘We’re a little past “fine”, don’t you think?’ Liam asked, and I turned up to see him looking down at me. He was right. He’d already seen me cry. He knew my family. It wasn’t like he was some random stranger asking me. He wasn’t just a builder I’d hired.

Liam was… more.

‘It’s so fucking complicated,’ I whispered, as if worried I’d wake the dead.

‘People say that grief is love with nowhere to go. But what happens to all the anger and longing and frustration or the crippling disappointment? Where does that all go? What happens when it’s not as simple as just “love”?

’ I glanced down at the grave. ‘He left me again. And he didn’t even make it right before he left.

’ My eyes began to burn. I took a deep breath, trying to hold myself together.

I didn’t want to fall apart for the second time tonight.

‘How do I make it stop?’ I sniffed. ‘Every time I think I’m over it, it all comes rushing back.’

The streetlamps from across the street illuminated Liam just enough to see the hard lines of his clenched jaw. His pinkie finger moved against my skin, back and forth. I could feel his reassuring warmth standing next to me.

‘I don’t know, Kat,’ Liam answered after a pause, his voice low. ‘I think you have to feel it all. It’s like a wound. It has to bleed to heal.’

‘I don’t want to feel it,’ I complained. ‘I want it gone.’

Liam huffed. ‘If it were that simple, everyone would do it. You can drink through it – I’ve tried that.

You can suppress it for a while. But it will come back, and it will come back harder.

And grief – grief is the trickiest of them all.

It can hit you like a fucking train out of nowhere.

A smell or a place sparks a memory, and that’s it – you’re in the trenches, just trying to climb out.

’ He was looking ahead, his eyes soft with… sadness.

Pure sadness.

‘You lost someone too?’

‘I lost my mum when I was twelve. Breast cancer.’

I frowned. ‘But Dot mentioned –’

Liam looked away. ‘Dot doesn’t remember. She came to the funeral before she was diagnosed. But she doesn’t remember now. And it would be cruel for her to have to hear it again and again.’

‘I’m sorry.’

I couldn’t imagine losing someone that young. When I was that age, at least I knew my dad was alive, even if he was AWOL. Or did that make it worse? I wasn’t sure, but I knew we couldn’t have a ‘who had it worse’ contest.

‘It’s fine –’ Liam’s mouth shut quickly, but it was too late.

I raised an eyebrow. ‘I thought we were past “fine”. And that certainly doesn’t sound like feeling it.’

‘Have you heard of the phrase “do as I say, not as I do”?’

‘Hypocrite.’ I tutted.

We stood a little while longer, side by side. I figured the conversation was over and that, in a few seconds, we’d trail back to the van and go home.

Until Liam opened his mouth.

‘Losing Mum was the worst day of my life. But sometimes, I wonder if the aftermath was worse. I was the eldest. So naturally, I took everything on. Dad was a wreck because he’d lost the love of his life.

My brother was little, and he wanted his mum back.

So, I became that for everyone. I started making breakfast. I got Ren ready for school.

I helped him with his homework. I did everything to keep the ship afloat. ’

My heart hurt for that little kid with too much responsibility.

‘I see that in you.’ I glanced up at him.

‘See what?’ He had an earnest expression, eager to hear what I had to say.

I took a deep breath. ‘Well, how many favours have you done since the committee meeting?’

‘Well, not that many –’ Liam kicked a piece of dirt from his boots.

‘Come on,’ I said. ‘Cough it up.’

Liam coughed. ‘Seven or eight.’

My eyes bugged. ‘Are you joking? For free?’

Liam shrugged. ‘Little things, really. Fixing a loo. Sealing a shower. Fitting some cabinets. I’d managed to keep them at bay since I took over from Dad.

I had an excuse – new management. We’re doing things differently.

But when I stood up and volunteered to help you…

’ He petered off, then glanced up at me. ‘Well, it was an open invitation.’

Guilt thrummed through me. I’d caused this.

‘I’m sorry. It’s my fault.’

‘It’s not your fault. I could have said no. But I didn’t.’ Liam shrugged. ‘A family trait, apparently.’ He glanced up, his eyes soft. ‘And I couldn’t say no to you.’

My heart jumped, but I kept my voice even.

‘You could have.’

‘Trust me, I couldn’t.’

‘Well, you need some boundaries, Mister!’ I demanded, my cheeks burned from his words.

I needed to change the tone, or we were heading somewhere else.

I counted on my fingers. ‘You worry about Jack far too much. You spend a huge chunk of your day making sure Freddie gets the proper training.’ I cocked an eyebrow.

‘You volunteer at the club with the first bat of Sandra’s eyelashes.

Then, you come home and cook’ – I pointed a finger – ‘and I know you go to the effort to make extra for me, and then make everyone lunch too.’

Liam’s lips twitched. ‘Are you telling me off, Red?’

‘Yes!’ I rolled my eyes. ‘You even fold your tea towels in a specific way.’

I’d watched in morbid fascination from the annexe as Liam folded and tucked his tea towels so that they looked like pretty little packages.

‘You’ve been watching very closely.’ Liam took a step forward, his eyes flicking all over my face.

I flushed. ‘Don’t change the subject.’

Liam ran his hands through his hair, which had grown long again, as it had at the funeral. It was floppy, making him look like a nineties heartthrob – a blue-collar Hugh Grant.

‘I’m trying not to take on so much. Therapy helped.

But it’s still hard to say no. That’s why I get so angry at my dad sometimes.

I’m trying to put some… boundaries up. And he steamrolls over them.

He’d have me burn out rather than say no.

And half the time, it’s not greed or business. It’s because he wants to help.’

‘I’m sorry for shouting. And I’m sorry if I became another one of those burdens.’

He looked at me then, really looked at me. His usually guarded features were strangely open.

‘I didn’t mean it like that, Kat. You aren’t a burden.’

I shrugged. ‘I feel like one.’

‘Trust me. You’re not. And the shouting was kind of hot.’

A hysterical giggle escaped my lips. ‘Hot?’

‘Yeah. I’m not going to analyse that.’ Liam grinned. ‘C’mere,’ he said, opening his arms.

I instinctively stepped into them, not caring what this meant. I didn’t want to overanalyse this gesture of kindness. Liam’s arms wrapped around me, and his chin rested on my head. He was solid and so, so warm.

‘I’m sorry about your dad.’

I felt the word rumble through his chest.

‘I’m sorry about your mum,’ I said into his chest. ‘Aren’t we a pair?’

Liam pulled back and looked at me. I probably had snot all over me and looked like a blubbering mess, but he smiled.

Something had shifted between us – a new understanding.

It wasn’t a tentative truce based on a silly pinkie promise but something deeper – a friendship, maybe.

A green shoot bursting from under the soil; it was delicate and new.

In my bones, I knew Liam was someone I could trust.

A part of me was comforted by that, and the other part of me… the part that had been hurt before.

Well, that part was terrified.