Chapter Three
Lane
“Lane, over here!” The deep voice calling my name was followed by a sharp whistle, pulling me from my wandering thoughts. I turned my head and followed the sound towards the two picnic tables that had been pushed together, half in the shade, in the garden of The Sleeping Goose.
Both tables were occupied by the motley collection of people I called my friends, and I realised I was the last one to arrive for our regular Friday-night catch-up.
I didn’t think I’d left the office that late, but I’d lost track of time once I’d taken Sparrow, my elderly collie, home, and clearly, I’d been longer than I’d thought.
Today had not gone as planned, and I was still thrown after seeing Oliver that morning. That was a blast from the past I hadn’t fucking wanted.
“Stop whistling for me,” I said as I dropped into the spare seat at the end of one of the tables next to Will, our resident farmer and the man I considered one of my best friends. “I’m not a bloody dog.”
“It wasn’t my idea. It was Alex’s.” Will grinned, his dark eyes glittering in the evening sun. He was such a handsome bastard, and we’d all told him several times his good looks were wasted on farming. He slid a pint across to me, and I took a grateful sip.
“Fuck off! I didn’t say that,” Alex said from the other side of the table.
Alex forever looked like a rock star about to stroll onstage somewhere with his loose vest top, oversized sunglasses, and intricate tattoo sleeves.
He was the mouthiest man I’d ever known, but his bark was worse than his bite.
He was like one of those yappy terriers who looked like they’d try to bite your arm off if you got too close, but in reality, they just wanted their tummy rubbed. Not that I was going to try that on Alex.
“You said I should try to get his attention,” Will said. “That makes it your idea.”
“I just said he wouldn’t be able to hear us. That didn’t mean you should fucking whistle.” Alex turned to the large, quiet man seated next to him and nudged him gently. “Noah, take my side.”
“I’m not taking sides,” Noah said with a soft smile as he sipped his Coke, his fluffy brown hair threatening to cover his eyes.
“Some best friend you are.”
Noah shook his head. “Fine. Alex, you have a point. We shouldn’t whistle at people. There. Are you happy?”
“No.”
“You never are, you miserable bastard,” I said with a grin, and Will chuckled as Alex flipped him off.
Alex, Noah, and I had all met at primary school, so I’d known them for years.
I’d met Will through Alex’s older brother, Spencer, in my early twenties, then, a couple years later, our friend group had expanded further when we’d casually adopted Laurie and Theo, who were both sitting opposite Spencer.
“Alex, why are you mad now?” Spencer asked, turning to face his brother. He looked like a California surfer and was still wearing a beanie over his shoulder-length blond hair despite the heat.
“I’m not mad. I’m just making a point.”
“There are better ways, man. You’ve gotta relax.”
“How was your day?” Noah asked me before Alex could start arguing with his brother. How the pair of them ran a successful business together was beyond me, but I thought it was because Spencer knew that ninety-nine percent of the time, Alex was just talking shit.
“Er, it was fine,” I said as I took another long drink, hoping it meant I wouldn’t have to talk. There were certain people here who had opinions about Oliver and our breakup, and I didn’t want them to know I’d run into him. Especially when I hadn’t figured out how I felt about the whole experience.
Alex rounded on me, his eyebrows furrowing over the top of his sunglasses. “It doesn’t sound fine.”
“It was just long. Busy. Had a lot of calls to make to suppliers.”
“You’re starting the B & B renovations next week, right?
” Will asked, and I wondered if he’d somehow put two and two together.
Will hadn’t been around for my initial falling out with Oliver, but he’d heard enough about it over the years.
I’d definitely told him I’d been hired to project manage the renovations on Iris’s cottage.
He’d even come to her funeral with me, and I was pretty sure he’d seen me exchange brief condolences with her grandson.
“Yeah, it should be fine, though. I was up there this morning doing some final checks, and it all looks good.” I felt everyone’s eyes on me, and I realised even Spencer, Theo, and Laurie had paused their conversation to focus on me.
“I thought Kara was away?” Noah said with a frown.
“Is she?” Alex asked.
“Yeah, my mum mentioned it because they work together. Kara’s taken a sabbatical, and I think Mum said they’ve gone to America.”
I felt Alex’s glare from behind his sunglasses. “Who let you in, then?”
“They could’ve left me a key,” I said, then swore under my breath because Alex smirked, and I realised I’d given myself away.
“They haven’t, though, have they? Who’s there?”
“Oliver.” My voice was quiet, and I quickly grabbed my glass and downed the rest of my pint so I could escape to the bar.
“What?” Alex’s voice was filled with cold fury. “You’re fucking shitting me.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I said. “It’s just for work.”
“Of course it’s a big fucking deal! That dickhead broke your heart, left, and never fucking bothered to get in touch with you for nine fucking years, and now he’s here?”
“Alex, chill,” I said. I didn’t want to get into this now. “Please. He has a right to be there. It’s his nan’s house.”
“Who’s Oliver?” Laurie asked. Our resident goth was leaning over the table with a curious expression on his pale face, his many silver rings glittering in the evening sunlight.
The fact that he ran a funeral directors would never cease to amuse me, although it was the ever-perky Theo who actually worked with the bodies.
Theo always said it was a charming, quiet way to spend the day, but Theo was also the sort of person who live streamed video games in maid’s outfits, occasionally did MyFans videos for fun, and owned a pair of taxidermized, tap-dancing mice. To each their own I supposed.
“We went to school with him,” Noah said before Alex could start ranting. “He and Lane were together for ages. It, er, didn’t end well.”
That was one way to put it, and I was forever grateful for Noah’s tact. He’d always been quiet and thoughtful, but he wouldn’t let anyone push him around.
“Oh shit,” said Theo, his eyebrows so high they could have disappeared into his hairline. “It’s that Oliver.”
“Can we please not make this a big deal?” I asked. “It’s really not. Oliver’s an adult, his nan died, and I’m just helping with the house. It’s not a thing.”
“It definitely is a thing,” Alex said. “I was the one who had to pick up the pieces when he left and broke your fucking heart. Have you forgotten how bloody miserable you were? Adele could’ve written four fucking albums about it.
And that’s before you decided to spend every weekend getting drunk and fucking everyone who showed even the vaguest amount of interest in you. ”
“It wasn’t that bad.” It had been. I’d thought I could use other people to make me forget, but it had just made it worse because none of them had been Oliver.
“Yes, it was. Don’t fucking lie to me.”
“Do we really have to do this now?” I asked, desperately hoping someone else would step in so I could get off this roller coaster of horrors. I didn’t fancy spending my Friday night taking a deep dive into my past mistakes.
Thank God for Noah, who gently interrupted before Alex could start ranting again, and said, “I thought Kara hired you. Didn’t she tell you Oliver was going to be there?”
“No, but it’s not her fault. She probably told Dad, and he didn’t pass the message on.
” I wasn’t sure whether I believed it or not, but I wasn’t going to tell them that.
When I’d first met with Kara to talk about the renovations, she’d been so warm and welcoming, asking all sorts of questions about how I was and whether I was seeing anyone.
She’d even casually mentioned Oliver was still single as well.
I’d thought she was just being polite, but now I wondered if there’d been more to it.
Alex muttered something under his breath and drained his glass. “I’m going to get another drink. Do you want one?”
“Please.” I pushed my empty glass across to him and watched as he and Noah collected the other empties, asking everyone what they wanted as they did, then headed for the pub door.
I wished I’d volunteered first so I could get out of there for a minute.
I knew Alex’s heart was in the right place, but I’d really wanted to avoid this shit.
It was like having to relive the memories of my breakup all over again.
Seeing Oliver had caught me completely on the hop, and my emotions had spent the whole visit threatening to get the better of me. I’d wanted to ask him what the fuck he was doing there, why he’d never bothered to text… why he’d never come back.
The whole thing had been awkward as fuck, and I’d just wanted to get out of there.
I’d always blamed him for our breakup, but deep down, I’d always known I was just as responsible.
Neither of us had been good at communication, and we’d let our anger, our fear, and our raging hormones get the better of us.
Letting Oliver go was my biggest regret, but over the years, I’d convinced myself the fault was one-sided because it made it easier.
But the truth was never going to stay buried, no matter how hard I tried.
If I was going to see Oliver every day, I was going to have to come to terms with the fact that we’d both broken promises, and we’d both hurt each other.
There was no point assigning blame in a conflict that had no victors.
Or I could continue to push my feelings down and bury them under a mountain of concrete like a body I was trying to dispose of in some old-school mafia way. Which honestly sounded like the better option.
It would have been easier to ignore if I didn’t have to see Oliver, but I was a professional, and I couldn’t just back out of working with him because it forced me to deal with emotions I’d been denying for so long they’d become part of the furniture.
I was the fucking project manager, and my dad would not think having my ex-boyfriend and former best friend around was an excuse to not do my job.
It was just a couple of months, maybe less if everything went to plan. I could suck it up and get through it, then I’d never have to see him again.
Unless Oliver was moving back here… I hadn’t even bothered to ask whether he planned to stay in the cottage.
“Don’t listen to Alex,” Spencer said, his warm voice cutting through my swirling thoughts. “He’s just looking out for you.”
“I know.”
“Are you going to be okay?” Will asked. He’d been surprisingly quiet throughout the conversation, but that didn’t surprise me. Will always thought things through before he spoke. He wasn’t the rash type. “Working with Oliver, I mean.”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” I said. “It was just a bit of a shock seeing him again. It’s been a while—if you don’t count Iris’s funeral.”
“That’s understandable, but you’re a different person now. He probably is too. It doesn’t change anything that happened between you, but maybe you could be, I don’t know, friends? Polite to each other at least.”
“I wasn’t planning on being a dick to him. I don’t want to get fired.”
Will chuckled. “No, but I mean, it’s been years. You’re adults now. Maybe just try and talk to him. Clear the air.”
“Are you saying he should give Oliver another chance?” Alex asked as he reappeared with a tray of drinks and Noah next to him. “Because there is no fucking way on God’s green earth he should do that.”
“No, I’m not saying that,” Will said as he took a drink from Alex. “I’m saying it’s been a long time. Maybe they need to start with a clean slate.”
“I don’t know if that’s possible,” I admitted, taking the pint Noah handed me. I slid my finger through the condensation on the side of the glass as I thought. “We have so much history. I don’t know if I can forget it.”
“You don’t have to,” Noah said as he passed out more drinks. “I think what Will means is that you don’t have to pretend the past doesn’t exist—you can’t exactly get rid of those memories—but you can start afresh. Draw a line in the sand and start over.”
“Exactly,” Will said. “That.”
“I think that sounds fucking ridiculous,” Alex said, climbing back into his seat. “But hey, if you want to give it a try, give it a try. What’s the worst that could happen? He’s already broken your heart once.”
I took a sip of my drink, turning Alex’s words over in my head. Luckily, Will and Noah seemed to sense I was done talking about the subject, and they casually moved the conversation on.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about what Alex had said.
What was the worst thing that could happen if I tried to be friends with Oliver?
Things couldn’t end as badly as they had before.
Now, the worst thing was that it would be cold and uncomfortable between us, and he’d have no interest in speaking to me beyond a professional capacity.
And while that would hurt, it wouldn’t be a total loss.
If things worked out, though, maybe I’d get my friend back. We wouldn’t be able to make up for the lost years, but maybe we could start again.
I was still thinking about it at midnight, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, the silence punctuated only by the occasional passing car and Sparrow’s foghorn-like snores from her bed on the landing.
Oliver definitely looked different from the lanky teenager I’d first fallen in love with, but deep down, I got the impression he was the same person—at least in all the ways that mattered.
I couldn’t deny he looked good, though.
As I rolled over and sighed in exhausted frustration, I thought about Oliver making tea in Iris’s kitchen with his scruffy hair and oversized hoodie and the odd socks I guaranteed he wouldn’t have expected me to notice.
And in the darkness, something inside my stomach fluttered.