Chapter Forty-One
Liam stopped the van outside my house, a small smile on his handsome face. He’d run his hand through his hair on the drive over, his gaze shifting to me and back to the road, like I was going to disappear at any time.
‘What’s going on?’ I said, walking over to him, taking his arm from his hair and threading his fingers through mine. It was a relief to be able to do it. To touch him again.
‘I –’ Liam began. ‘I’m not good with all the words.’
My lips turned up into a smile. ‘All the words?’
‘You know what I mean. I didn’t go to uni. I can’t write you poetry.’
‘Liam, if anyone wrote me poetry, I’d die of embarrassment.’
Liam pulled me closer, pulling me into a quick kiss, his hands still wrapped in my hair when he said, ‘This is my way of saying I love you.’
My heart pounded at his words as he pulled me towards the house, and then I noticed it. The front garden had been neatened, and the moss and overgrown plants had been trimmed back. A new porch light had been fitted. The door had a fresh paint of colour – a pale pink.
Then – I glanced through the front door windows and pulled back.
I turned to him. ‘Liam. What did you do?’
Hope and happiness blazed through Liam’s dark eyes.
‘I’ve been waiting to show you for weeks. I’ve kept all the photos I wanted to send.’ He threaded his fingers through mine to pull me towards the door.
As it glided open, my jaw fell open.
Parquet flooring was shining up at me. A cream carpet runner led up the stairs, with new spindles painted black. It smelt of fresh paint. A huge round mirror hung above the console table.
Three framed pictures hung, empty.
Liam clocked my gaze. ‘I figured you would want to pick out the pictures. I didn’t want to assume who you’d want in them – this isn’t for me. This is for you. I’ve still got my place, so we can live separately, if you’d prefer.’
‘Liam.’ I squeezed his hand, grinning up at him. I’d never seen him so flustered. ‘Take a breath.’
His eyes took me in, moving across my face. ‘I want you to enjoy this.’
Liam put his hands on my shoulders and ushered me into the first room, the lounge. The deep blue walls made the space feel cosy and homely. A log-burning fire sat at the hearth, and on either side were fitted arched bookcases, which looked familiar…
Then it hit me.
I turned to Liam. ‘My Pinterest.’
He’d gone on my Pinterest and recreated it.
Liam shrugged. ‘It was public, and you made it easy. You catalogued each room so I could replicate what you’d designed. I was impressed. I’ve worked with a few interior designers, but none were as thorough as you. And before you say anything, I chose to do this. I’ll take the hit.’
He’d paid for all of this. He must have spent a small fortune.
‘You –’ I stuttered. ‘You’ve done each room.’
My eyes almost bugged out of my face. I hadn’t held back.
I’d gone all out. Bold Farrow and Ball paint, floral Sanderson wallpaper, and expensive furniture from West Elm and Soho Home.
I’d gone down a rabbit hole until three in the morning and made notes and lists.
It was my dream house, an ideal scenario.
But I never actually planned to decorate it like this.
I’d planned to find some cheaper alternatives.
‘How – how did you have the time? What about the other fittings?’
When I’d left, this house had been half finished.
‘I had some help.’ Liam smiled. ‘Pretty much everyone chipped in. Every labourer at the club. I couldn’t keep Brian and Sandra away.
They kept coming to do odd bits after work.
And Lydia helped with some of the heavy lifting.
’ Liam hooked his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into his back.
He planted a kiss on my neck. ‘Unsurprisingly, you are very popular. Once Pat caught wind, I had a whole list of volunteers. Carpenters, painters. Someone who tried to sell me solar panels. I held off on that, but if you need them installed, I know a bloke.’
I made a choking sound.
Liam murmured, ‘But even if they hadn’t helped, I would have done it. It might have taken me longer.’
I stood there, Liam’s arms wrapped around me, in the same room we’d crossed paths in all those months ago. I’d got him so wrong. I’d presumed he was an arsehole, grumpy, uncharitable. But he was the opposite.
‘I – I’m lost for words.’
‘First for everything, Red.’ I could hear the grin in his words. ‘Come on, there is more.’
I let Liam tour me around the house. It was surreal seeing a house I’d designed on a social media app in real life.
Liam had replicated my perfect kitchen and somehow improved it.
Originally, I’d planned for a small kitchen and island, but Liam had shifted the design to make room for more units.
It made it more practical, with a perfect triangle between the oven, sink, and bin.
He’d installed the brass handles and a huge Belfast sink I’d dreamt of.
He’d created the dining nook I’d added to my board one day without a second thought.
I’d loved it, but I’d figured it was a pipe dream.
Now, it was in front of me. I wanted to sob.
It was so beautiful. Liam told me that Sandra had spent hours painting it in Farrow and Ball’s Railings, the dark blue complementing the soft, almost pink kitchen cabinets.
‘She wanted it to be perfect,’ Liam said.
The bathroom we designed months ago was installed upstairs. The first design, not the pared-back one. A vintage dresser held the sink, making the rustic tiles and the soft blue wood panelling on the walls pop.
‘What – what did you do with all the other fittings?’
‘I donated them,’ Liam said with a grimace. ‘A bloody field day at the club. People bartering over a bloody bathroom tap.’
A laugh burst out of me, and Liam’s lips twitched. He ran his hand over the bathroom dresser.
‘As promised.’
‘As pinkie promised.’
My eyes met Liam’s, and I tried to show him what this meant to me, how much I appreciated it. He raised a thumb to my cheek.
‘I wanted to see this, what you created.’
My eyes burned with tears. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much. It’s beautiful.’
‘There is one more thing.’
‘Liam. I can’t take anymore.’ I shoved my head into his chest. ‘I might combust.’
Liam’s chest shook with laughter. ‘One more, that’s it. You aren’t getting anything else for the year.’
I pulled back, pouting. ‘Not even a Christmas present?’
‘Maybe your present will be me.’ Liam kissed my lips, his tongue stroking mine.
My hands began to roam until he pulled them off him, and I groaned. He grinned.
‘Come on, I can’t wait.’
‘Neither can I,’ I muttered as Liam led me downstairs.
In the kitchen, Liam opened the French doors onto the garden.
The most extravagant Wendy house I’d ever seen sat at the end of a new stone path.
Liam had painted it a soft pale green, and it had a little porch with two rocking chairs.
The windows and doors were real and solid, not just made of timber and plastic.
Tears formed now and ran down my cheeks silently.
‘I took a look at your dad’s plans. I couldn’t do everything in them – he had a lot of ideas. But if we wanted, we could extend into the loft next year with Jack’s help.’
Liam opened the doors and turned on the lights, and I suppressed a sob.
A huge rustic wooden desk sat in the middle of the room on a large rug. On the wall hung a huge pinboard, and pinned to it were samples I’d ordered for the house months ago. Samples that now made up the cushions and wallpaper of the house behind me.
Next to them, my dad’s draft plans for the house were on display, too.
A craft table and an easel with paint supplies were on the other side.
‘This is for your interior design projects, but I found out you liked to paint watercolours when you were younger,’ Liam said, his deep voice filling the room, ‘so I ordered you some paints.’
‘How –’
‘I asked Graham. I got his number from Brian, and he seemed more pleased to hear from me than your mum had been. He promised not to say anything to her. He sounded like he was living out his spy fantasies.’
‘Why – why did you do this?’
‘Call Graham?’
‘No, all of this, the house. This office.’
‘I like to think of it as a studio.’ Liam scratched his head as he took a deep breath. ‘When I asked you to come back. I realised I didn’t have anything to offer you.’
My face softened. ‘Liam –’
‘I know – you’ll deny it. But you’re giving up this big life in London for me. So when you left and I was alone. Well, I couldn’t just sit on my arse. I needed something to do.’
‘Other than opening a restaurant.’
Liam shrugged. ‘Ren was great with it, actually. He took on a lot more than I’d been expecting him to. He hasn’t dropped the ball once. So I spent a lot of time here when I wasn’t with Abi or at the restaurant. I wanted to be able to give you something.’
I took a step forward, itching to touch him. Liam seemed to read my mind and stepped forward to pull me into him. My chin on his chest, I looked up at him.
Liam kissed my nose. ‘I think this is the first time I’ve seen you speechless.’
I cocked an eyebrow. ‘You met me at a funeral where I was literally speechless.’
Liam wrinkled his nose. ‘I don’t count that.’
‘Yeah, because you were a dickhead.’
‘I think you called me a prick, actually.’ He smiled, and I laughed. ‘I think I probably fell in love with you then. You leaned out your window and called me a prick. That was it.’
I rolled my eyes but wanted to burst. Combust. So many emotions running through my body, I had no idea how to siphon through them.
Liam tugged at my hand. ‘Come on, there’s a lot more to see.’
‘Don’t you have a soft opening to get to?’
He looked sheepish. ‘I may have given you the wrong timings on your invite.’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re conniving when you want to be.’
His eyes burned into me. ‘I knew what I wanted, and I needed to make it happen. I’ll beg, borrow, and steal if I have to. Now, come on.’ He tugged at my hand. ‘I’ve been waiting to show you this for weeks.’
‘But I want to stay with the bookcases,’ I complained, staring at them like I was Gollum. ‘So pretty.’
Liam laughed. ‘I think you’ll like the kitchen more.’
‘Am I dreaming?’ I went to pinch myself. ‘I must be dreaming.’
I thought about my life at home since I moved back. The sadness I felt when I dropped my bags in the hall of Mum and Graham’s house – the feeling of defeat. I’d lost again. I’d failed. Another unsuccessful hobby I’d taken up and then dropped. Mum was right.
Then, I thought about living in Everly Heath.
I’d never felt lighter or more at home. I’d been supported, even with the heaviness of my relationship with my dad, that flipping between grief and resentment.
They’d rallied together and built me a fucking home.
A proper home. Just like the one I’d imagined.
And I think it was something like my dad had imagined when he’d drawn up those plans.
So, it made my decision easy. For once, I knew my impulse was so right that it wasn’t an impulse.
‘So, would we live here?’ I mused, playful.
Liam’s eyes flickered, but he was still reserved like he was holding back.
‘Yes. I’ll sell the house. I don’t care about it anyway.’
‘So, you’d make me breakfast every morning.’ I pointed to the main house. ‘In that kitchen?’
‘Kat –’ Liam warned, the deep timbre of his voice making me shiver. ‘Don’t play with me.’
I turned to him, smiling up at his handsome face, which was flickering between disbelief and hope. I decided to put him out of his misery.
‘I’m staying.’
His head shot up.
‘What?’
‘I want to stay. Here, with you.’
‘You’re moving here? We’re doing this?’ Liam’s eyes were wide, still disbelieving. I stepped closer, wrapping my arms around his neck and leaning closer.
‘Well, you did make this house the most perfect house I’ve ever seen –’
‘You did that –’
‘And built me an art studio. Then you told me you love me. I’m afraid you won’t be able to get rid of me now.’
‘I don’t want to,’ he said, pushing me up onto my new desk, his mouth on mine, insistent and urgent. His hands were everywhere: on my neck, my cheeks, like he was trying to kiss every bit of me at the same time. Like he couldn’t decide where to start.
He pulled away. ‘You’re staying.’ We were both out of breath.
‘I’m staying.’ He kissed me again, somehow even more urgent and fervent than before.
‘How long have we got?’ I gasped between kisses.
‘Long enough.’